Page 146 of Debugging Love

I sit up and slide my sunglasses onto my nose. “If you say so.” Maybe she’ll like me more if I nail dinner tonight. One can hope.

We pack up our beach gear, slide on our flip-flops, and trudge through the hot sand to the bicycles that have been our mode of transportation for the last four days. The VRBO Chance’s mom rented is a few blocks from the ocean and close to Folly Beach’s main strip. We’ve been enjoying slow bike rides, dinners out, casual shopping. A four-day beach vaca with Morgan and Kayla would be fun. But with Chance, it’s been amazing. And I’m not, in the slightest bit, ready for it to end. Luckily the beach is less than forty minutes away from Wild Oaks. Something tells me Chance and I will be coming here a lot.

Our quick trip ends at a quaint, seafoam green cottage with a wraparound porch and a sandy front yard. Its five bedrooms have offered plenty of privacy, while the great room has been the perfect place to convene for meals and board games.

Chance bought everything we need for Murgh Kari, which I’m told is chicken curry in American. We head to the kitchen, gather the ingredients onto the island, and get to work while Navya quietly reads a book on the couch. Chance’s mom and dadi are last-minute souvenir shopping, according to Navya.

Chance cuts the raw chicken and measures the spices but lets me do the cooking. The white rice is already warming in a rice cooker. He brought it with him to fix a fresh batch every morning. I’ve never eaten so much rice, but I could easily get used to it.

While the Murgh Kari is simmering, Chance shows me how to make chapatis with wheat flour, oil, salt, and a little water. We’ve made half a dozen when Chance’s mom and dadi arrive.

Dadi has fully embraced South Carolina beach life, donning a floppy-brimmed hat, a modest tank top with a flowy linen cover-up, and light, wide-legged pants. Her arms are laden with shopping bags. She deposits them onto the table.

“Hello, dear,” she says, waving at me. “Come see what we bought, Adi.”

Notice she didn’t ask me to see what they bought. I hover by the stove, stirring the curry so it doesn’t burn while Dadi shows her purchases to Chance, which include several necklaces and pairs of earrings. Navya wanders over and they admire a shell bracelet and pendant.

Chance glances at me and beckons me with a wave.

“I think this is ready,” I say.

He leaves the women and returns to my side. Together we fill large bowls with rice, chicken, and rich sauce, place the bowls on plates, and fold a chapati onto each one.

“This smells wonderful, Adi,” Dadi says as we sit.

“Danni made it,” Chance says. “Including the chapatis.”

“Let’s see how it tastes, then.”

I wring my hands under the table while Dadi prepares her first bite and ceremoniously lifts it to her mouth. The moment my Murgh Kari hits her taste buds, her eyes widen. “This is good, Danni. Even better than I make at home.”

Chance reaches for my hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. It’s a small victory. With many more to come, I hope.

Chance threads his fingers through mine as we walk along the beach, twilight muting the sand and the ocean. We walk along the water’s edge, our bare feet leaving trails of footprints.

“That was a good idea.” I lean against him and wrap my hand around his forearm.

“I told you she likes you.”

“She said my name.”

“She said it more than once. I think that means you’re accepted into the family.” He pauses and swings around in front of me. “If that’s what you want.”

A breeze comes up behind him and ruffles his hair. I reach up and comb my fingers through his curls, styling them neatly until another breeze undoes my effort.

“Is it what you want?” Chance asks tentatively after I let too much time pass. Not because I’m uncertain. The opposite. Which is unsettling in its own way. But I’m here for it.

“It is,” I say, smiling up at him.

He gathers me in his arms, wipes my smile away with his lips, but I still feel it as we kiss…a distinct silliness that’s going to leave me smiling inside for a long, long time.

Epilogue

Danni

I grab a handful of books off the bookshelf and stuff them into one of the many boxes Morgan, Kayla, Willa, and I are using to carry stuff downstairs. During our Wednesday night video chat a few weeks ago, Willa announced she was ready to leave Indiana behind for Charleston’s charm, milder winters, and beaches. I was shocked speechless for two seconds and then I dove right in with logistics. How soon can I transfer my lease to a two-bedroom apartment? When can I take time off to help Willa pack up the house? That sort of stuff.

Our childhood home sold the day Willa put it on the market, bolstering her confidence that she was making the right decision despite how hard it was to say goodbye to all the memories associated with that house. I suspect she’ll soon realize how freeing it is to leave the bad ones behind.

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