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“Do you need help to get changed?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll wait outside.”
Without waiting for my response, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“Done!” I called out in a few moments, my shivers having quelled a bit after changing out of the damp clothes.
He entered promptly. “Come on, get back into bed,” he directed me.
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Afra, Imran’s girlfriend. She’s a nurse. A very good one.”
“She said you are family. Do you know how lucky you are to have so many people love you this way?”
“Yes, I count my blessings every day,” he said with every bit of sincerity as he pulled the covers on me and tucked me in.
“Do you have any food in the house? Anything I can give you before I medicate you?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, my illness came unannounced and uninvited.”
He picked up his phone and began typing furiously.
“I’ve ordered soup from a nearby deli. It should be here shortly. I need to get you some rasam to warm up your insides.”
“I love rasam,” I said. “I like it with rice.”
“This one is more medicinal. I’ll ask Amma how to make it.”
Before he could run the whole scenario in his head—before I could stop him—he’d placed a call to his mom.
“I need the recipe for your pepper rasam,” he said to her.
I held my breath, waiting to see how that conversation would unfold.
Who do you need it for?
A friend.
What friend? And why are you cooking for him?
She’s unwell.
It’s a she? Who’s this friend you are cooking rasam for? And have you ever made rasam before that you think you can crack it now?
I chuckled at the look on Sujit’s face. If the conversation hadn’t exactly gone the way it had in my head, it was very close.
“No, I don’t want you to send it here.”
Silence as he listened to her.
“No, Amma, just give me the recipe.”
He blew out an exaggerated breath and said, “All right, never mind. Forget I called. I will figure out something else to give her.”
Silence again.