The Warmest Winter✓

Fifty-eight

Malik walks in with a big smile, and I feel happy having him over.

"Here I am, Professor. How do I ever say no to you?" he muses over a soft hug he gives me.

I giggle with delight. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. It's been forever since you and I had a talk, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Malik sighs and we're at last in the living room. "So, how are you?" he asks right away while taking a seat, his large intelligent eyes studying me carefully.

"I'm good." I shrug, trying harder to convince myself the same thing. "Oh, and I think lunch is ready now. Do you mind taking this conversation to the kitchen instead?"

"By all means." He grins.

The Middle Eastern lunch smells resplendent when Mrs. Prescott welcomes us with a beaming smile. Oh, I'm starved.

"Hello, Malik," Mrs. Prescot greets Malik.

"Oh, hi, beautiful Nana!" Malik scoops the old lady into a terrific embrace, and I pull myself a seat while smiling at them.

While they exchange pleasantries, my thoughts wander away from here, thinking of everything else going on in my life. It all feels like a rollercoaster of emotions, and maybe it's meant to be this way.

Sometimes good, sometimes bad. We tend to go higher, and then lower, but never the same level over and again. It's probably spinning down right now, but tomorrow things may be different somehow. Smiling, I try to stay positive.

"Any problem, Professor." Malik gives me a worried look, interrupting my deep thoughts.

"Nothing. Come, have a sit." I tell him with a brighter smile.

Oh, it's been a good while since we last had a meaningful chat—just the two of us. Was Montana the last time? Or way before the wedding? I can't clearly remember, but I missed him.

"I knew this invitation wasn't going to let me down, Professor," says Malik after occupying a seat across from me, his eyes on the food. "I'm super hungry and the smell doesn't do me good."

I chuckle delightfully, feeling a certain pleasure as though I'm beholding anew the brother I haven't seen in ages. That's how I see Malik; a brother I never had.

A hot biryani pulls some steam in the air, beside which a bowl of roasted chicken oozes the delicious scent of spices, an Arab recipe I decided to google special for him.

"Enjoy your lunch," Mrs. Prescott utters while placing a fruit salad freshly made for dessert. "I have some things to do, so if you'll excuse me." She smiles at us.

"Thanks, Nana," I tell her, and Malik's nod speaks the same thing.

We begin eating.

"How does it feel having your twin away from home?" Malik breaks the easy silence with a playful grin.

I flush at the name 'twin'.

"Weird. I feel like the house will swallow me when the night comes," I answer musingly, and it's almost the truth. "Any news from Roshni?" I glance up at him while slashing the chicken breast to my liking.

Malik's eyes lose their gleam. "No, not yet. Maybe by tonight I'll be able to reach her."

"Oh, I forgot Australia is on the other side of the world." I take a deep breath. "You're missing her a lot, don't you?" I smile sadly, imagining the void he must be feeling inside.

"Oh, stop it." Malik blushes. I shoot him an inquiring eyebrow and he quickly says, "Fine. Yes, I miss her. But well . . . Maybe it's better that we both have the personal space we need to think things over."