She closed the door behind. A soft thump filled the emptiness of the place. There used to live two people, who were very close to each other. And now when she looked at it, it displayed like a dream that couldn't be retrieved once it vanished. The sweet whispering fainted in the walls, leaving a fleeting hum. Nothing was like before. Things and memories faded like a photograph over time, making it appear yellowish. Dadi left a perpetual silence in her possessions. She floated away from this world, smiling and waving that she would meet Zoha again and somewhere beautiful, and they would live with each other forever.

She dragged the luggage to the wardrobe and left it there. Then went by the window, planting the heels of her palm on the sill, heaving up on her toes to look out at the far horizon. It was nice to come back home. To meet eyes to the familiar view from the room. The lawn, vast open place with sky for the roof. She took a sigh. No matter how much she missed dadi, she told herself she would not cry. No more. It would hurt her soul. And that was not what she wanted.

She padded to the bathroom and cooled herself with the water. Then decided to take a body wash. Later, she put her clothes in the wardrobe and placed the bag rocking in the chair. She turned the air conditioner on, as she felt hot while doing the work. The droning noise filled the atmosphere which made her feel less lonely.

The next evening, Zafar called all the family members to come sit in the lawn. He brought a big wicker basket, which held the gifts he bought from California. Zoha experienced a distinct comfort when her uncle was around. She felt protected. He always had a positive look on his face. Warm and forgiving. Saliha sat, happiness sprayed on her face. Shehryaar and Manal were sitting across from each other.

"I am going to start with Manal since she is the special one," Zafar said. He took out a gift wrapped in floral wrapping. "Here, this is for you. And these two." He gave her a small silver box and another rectangle box.

Manal received it jovially. "Thank you, daddy." She put the gift on her seat and hugged him from the back around his neck, titling slightly side to side. He squeezed her arm warmly and said, "You're welcome."

Zoha gave a small smile looking at them. She wanted to see what she got. On the side Shehryaar held patient as the love exchange occurred between Zafar and Manal. He glimpsed at Zoha, who glimpsed back rather nervously.

"I have bigger things to give you. But for later when it's time," Zafar said.

"Your lucky time starts," Shehryaar said.

"Yes." Manal rolled her eyes and got back to her seat.

"Stop showing off."

"Bhai, you shouldn't be jealous."

"Why would I be?"

"I know I was just playing."

"Now, Zoha beta," Zafar announced. Zoha's heart fluttered for being called out. He pulled out a book, a rectangle box, and a small square box. "This is for you."

Zoha got up to take the presents. "Thank you, baray abu. This is a lot for me," Zoha said politely.

Zafar rummaged a tiny box. "This is too. I really liked this diamond ring. A more true gift from your uncle." He optimistically looked at Zoha.

Zoha balked from receiving the fourth one. She already had three in the cradle of her arm. "Baray abu, this is way too much."

"I will always remember what you did for me. Thank you so much," Zoha said and turned away to sit. She could already feel the load of love from him. It almost felt too unreal. When she managed to sit with things, her eyes scampered to Saliha and Manal who were sitting across from her. The feeling that rose inside her was undeniable. She witnessed the change in Manal's color. Something that she could guess when she was taking the gifts from Zafar. She (Manal) was the one getting engaged and deserved more attention. But after getting a diamond ring, Zoha stole the limelight.

Not only that, Saliha, who not seemed to expect this was moved. She came out of her smiling, happy zone, and looked at Manal. Zoha noticed Manal's hand ball in a fist. Her lips formed in a straight line; her eyes filled with thin as needle and sharp as a gleaming point pique. She stayed quiet, resentment flooding her sealed mouth. Zoha felt a rough stab in her chest like somebody had just punched her. Fear mixed with the popping beads of sweat in the nape of her neck. She felt as if her back was bare and she was caught nervous.

"Now, Shehry." Zafar moved on with him. "Surprise." He laughed.

"Daddy, you are still clung to that?"

Zafar easily picked the gift, the last one left for Shehryaar. He was snickering. "Here." Shehryaar came forward to receive it.

"Thank you." He sat back in his seat. "How about Sajjid?"

"That? I will give it to him when I see him," Zafar said.

"It's interesting what you found for him," Shehryaar said.

"I was looking around. It was hard. But I told myself that I have to get something for him. He deserves it. So I ended up with jacket. Good for winter."

"How did you find it in summer?"

"I had one that I never wore. I mean I only wore it once and then after that it was hanging in the closet the rest of the year. Does it even count that it's mine since I wore it once? It will come in better use for him. I think you might not remember it. Long time ago."

"What color is it?"

"Dark brown. It will make him look handsome."

"Mummy, what did you get?" Shehryaar asked, looking in her direction.

"Emerald jewelry set," Saliha said.

"Wow."

Manal just glared at Zoha. She kept quiet. Then as they talked, she got up and left. Zoha looked at the box that contained diamond ring. She thought to give it back to him. But was helpless to think, what might Zafar think. What reason existed that resulted in her reacting like this. Then things will become worse. It sounded like a bad idea. She did not want to ruin anyone's mood. They looked happy.

"What did Zoha get?" Saliha asked.

Zafar shifted his gaze at quiet Zoha. "She will show it to you when she opens it. Right?" Zoha nodded.

"Thank you so much, baray abu. Diamond ring especially," Zoha said.

"It's surprising that Manal is getting married and she didn't get anything like that," Saliha said.

"She will already be getting so many jewelry. So I thought to better give her when it's the time."

"But still."

"Saliha, understand. Zoha doesn't get gifts very often, Manal still has many opportunities. Did she leave because of this reason?"

"I don't know. If I felt it, then she might have felt the same way."

Zoha didn't like how it was going. She thought, did Saliha really thought like that about her?

Shehryaar had ripped the packing and was looking at what he got. There was a white hoodie, tag dangling from the sleeve hole. He checked it against his body.

"Looks like it's from Arden Fair," he said.

"Yes," Zafar said. "There was lots of variety. You liked it?"

"I really like. When did you buy it?"

"Can I see it?" Saliha said. Shehryaar gave her the hoodie.

"Before I came. I knew you would like that color. You have other colors. This will look good."

Saliha looked at the hoodie, putting it in the air. "I always like the t-shirts, shirts, hoodies of American style."

"I have more of those types that I brought," Shehryaar said. Just as he got up, his phone vibrated and he rummaged it out of his pockets. Then swiped he finger across the screen to receive the call. "Yeah, Umair. What's up?" Saliha glanced at him when she heard Umair.

"Zoha, if the dress that I gave doesn't fit, then I will get you a new one from here. Of your choice. I guessed upon Manal's size," Zafar said.

Zoha nodded. She ripped the purple bow from the box and opened the lid. Chills crept her skin as the sight of diamond ring evinced in her hand. She couldn't accept the fact that it was so expensive. She only had two pairs of gold stud earrings from which one of them she wore all the time. But it was too overwhelming for her to keep this gift. Like she was taking a loan, though he was her uncle.

"Do you like it?" Zafar asked.

"This is really beautiful." Zoha was too stunned to express more. "I love it."

Shehryaar's attention went on the sparkling ring while he was on the phone. Then he ended the call. "Mummy, I am going with Umair. Friends. His friends. He is calling me over. Can you put my things in my room? Please? Thank you."

"When are you going to be back?" Saliha said, when he turned away.

"I don't know. Little late."

"Don't be too late."

"Okay. Bye, daddy. Mummy. See you later." Then left.

Zoha closed the lid of the box. She gathered her things properly in her arms and thought to go to her room. Later, after praying magrib, she went to the study room. Her exams were over. A rest from all the stress and work. She felt light with relief. Putting the textbook in the shelf, she headed to the kitchen. Saliha's back was to her. Rumina was standing by the counter, attentively watching the pot on the stove. Zoha could see the burner lit up. She moved in and joined Saliha on her side, resting her hand on the counter. Saliha immediately looked at her.

"Zoha. You here?" she said. Rumina titled her head to see her.

"My exams are over and there isn't much to do. So I thought I can see what you are cooking." Zoha spoke amiably.

"I am making chicken pilau. Do you want to do something?"

"Sure. But it looks like it's almost done."

"No. There is one more dish to cook. Actually when I went to Rubab's dawat last time. She made chicken turnip. First thought it would be both chicken dish. But it's alright. Your baray abu will taste both." Saliha looked away and footed to the cabinet. Opening it, she reached her hand for the salt.

"Bari ammi, can I help you?" Zoha took a step forward.

"Rumina, I told you to put the salt and main spices on the first shelf." Saliha's tip of the middle finger tried to move the packet to the front. "And it's finished too."

"I will bring the stool," Zoha said. But Rumina stood like a statue like she was new and had no experience of working with Saliha. No positive helpful reaction. Zoha came back from the store room and provided Saliha with a stool. "This can make it easier."

Saliha stepped on the stool and her fingers grew past the shelf. Then she grabbed it and closed the cabinet.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Saliha said. "You disappointed me. It was not hard to follow my instructions. If it was on the right place, life would have been much easier." She gave a look. "For today you are done. You can go back to your quarter."

Zoha gestured Rumina behind Saliha's back. Telling her it's okay. See you tomorrow. Then she left, humiliated.

"Bari ammi, you tell me the recipe and I can cook the chicken turnip." Zoha took the assistance. "It feels like I haven't cooked in a long time."

"Sure. Sorry. Because of Rumina's my mood got off. I have so many things going on in my head." She peppered some salt and stirred the contents in the pot. "Zafar can't stay in Pakistan for more than two weeks. He has left the restaurant on the trust of his assistant manager. So I have to get things done in time." She stopped and silently thought.

Zoha was still surprised when she thought about Manal's engagement. It happened so fast and she was dead unaware of it. How could no one inform her? Despite Manal didn't like her much, but she was still her cousin. They grew up together. It was a big moment for her. The past resentment shouldn't interfere in this happiness. Perhaps this might allow them to come together. But it was a doubt. Seeing her get up and leave was quite a negative sign. She didn't appreciate the idea of gifting Zoha a diamond ring.

And she, herself thought it wasn't fair. She was ready to give back the gift, but Zafar wouldn't take it. Or either he would be really upset.

"Anyways," Saliha said. "Rumina won't come back. So it's all you tonight. I know you can cook well." She told Zoha things to do step by step.

"Okay," Zoha said, and got started with the work as soon as possible.

Later at eight, they sat down to eat dinner. Manal and Zafar showed with a fresh mood. The smell of pilau and chicken turnip permeated the house. Zoha was excited that her uncle would try the food made by her. Saliha told her that she cooked well. But would she receive the same comments from him too? She didn't know.

She set the table and then joined the family, except Shehryaar was missing. He was out from the evening and it was dark now. It didn't seem like he would return home anytime soon. Saliha gave him a call, but no reply. So she put aside the thought and began with her pilau.

"What is this?" Zafar asked, pointing at the ramekin.

Zoha lifted her attention from the plate, spoon lightly held and looked at Saliha. The taste of chicken was residue on her tongue.

"Chicken turnip," Saliha replied.

"Sounds tasty," he said.

"Zoha tried to cook this for the first time."

"Really? Wow. Then I should really try it." He extended his arm to that dish.

"She cooks a while now."

"I can already see it."

Manal stared at Zoha, but she only gave a tiny glimpse. Zafar took half piece of tandoor roti from the hot pot and made a bite. Zoha's enthusiasm crept up her spine, leaving tingling feeling in her belly. She forced to take a bite from her plate before seeing his reaction. Saliha ate like it was normal.

"This is so delicious," he said. His mouth making chewing movement. Manal's spoon dropped, clinking the plate. "I really like the combination of chicken with turnip. Different."

"It truly came out tasty, Zoha," Saliha said.

A smile spread across Zoha's lips. She couldn't help feel more contend and thrilled. "Thank you."

"Cooking is really an essential skill. I am glad you are learning it from your bari ammi. And it looks like you are getting better at it," Zafar said. "Manal? What are you doing?"

"I never had much interest in cooking," Manal said, nonchalantly.

"It's surprising." He poured juice in the glass. "Interest comes along with trying. Now you're grown up. At this stage you should already be good at basics. Luckily you are getting engaged."

"I've heard the family has enough to afford a cook. So I think there wouldn't be much of a problem. Unless if we belonged to a middle class."

Zoha felt as if she was talking about her when she pierced a glance at her, while nobody else looked at them.

"But you can't guarantee that," Zafar criticized.

"But, daddy, why do girls always have to do cooking. Why not boys?" Manal whined.

"Outside Pakistan, boys equally contribute to the house work. Over here you're depended on poor bones. They will do you good, but it doesn't actually help you when you don't have these maids and servants and you don't have skills to do basic things."

Manal got quiet. Zoha could see the unhappy expression on her. She hated when somebody won in an argument with her. But it was her father this time. He might get angry for being disrespected. Whatever didn't convince her, she just listened to it. Then ignored it later.

"Did you bring clothes from there? Or you will shop here?" Saliha said.

"I am afraid not much would fit in one luggage. If it is like this then I will buy another hand carry from here."

"Rubab called me. She was asking when to hold the meeting. With the Usman's family."

"Did she inform them?"

"Yeah, she told about the news. They were very happy." Saliha took chicken turnip.

"Mummy, can Faiza come to our house for the preparation someday?" Manal said.

"Sure. Didn't we talk about it the other day?" Saliha reminded.

"I thought-"

"Zoha, you must be excited for your sister's engagement," Zafar said. "Just yesterday I used to see you two so little. Babies. You never know how fast the time flies by. I am always thinking about it." He took some more chicken turnip. The pilau was half finished in the platter. Manal was the only one to eat that. She didn't even touch the other dish. "Make this dish once again before I leave. I can't stop myself."

Zoha lightly chuckled, drawing the attention. "Bari ammi is the true great cook. I wish I can cook like her."

"That's the spirit. I want you, Manal, to be like that too," Zafar said.

Though, Zoha spoke very little, she still impressed Zafar. From inside, she was an open-hearted, cordial person, but shyness coated her outside skin.

Manal stopped eating, pursed her lips in irk. She rocked back the chair, dropped the spoon and got up. Her plate was less than half filled with rice. Saliha and Zafar looked in surprise with the sound of chair.

"Manal?" Saliha's spoon was near her mouth. "What happened?"

"I am done."

"But your food is not finish."

"I don't want to eat. I am full."

"All of a sudden?"

"You didn't like the food?" Zafar said.

"I am not in a mood," Manal said, and abandoned the dinner table.

Saliha looked at Zoha, seeming to figure out the reason of her suddenly getting up and leaving. Hush fell for a moment. The clanking noise of spoons kept the slim air busy.

"Right now she was in a really good mood. Is she upset about something?" Zafar said.

"I don't know. I saw the sign of annoyance on her face. It looked like it. The talk about cooking gets her mood off."

"The way we have one son, we have one daughter too. It's not fair to keep one child spoiled and the other not." Zafar told politely. "I was expecting her to be more responsible. Along with her studies she is careless in everything as I see it. There is a huge difference between Zoha and Manal. They both grew up together. Not a lick of similarity."

"Zafar, not every child is same. It's natural. If she doesn't like something then I can't force her."

Zoha silently listened.

"But at least you can bring an interest in her. It's important. I agree that giving a choice, freedom helps them grow. But when she starts to slip aimlessly where ever she wants, then it's not a good sign. I wonder how she will handle her life after getting married."

Saliha looked at Zafar. "Stop worrying like that. You're giving me anxiety."

Zafar drank a glass of water.

"Baray abu, do you want more?" Zoha said.

He looked in the platter. Then burped. "No, beta, I am so full. I loved all the dishes. It was great."

"I like the pilau. It's one of my favorite," she said. "Do you eat desi food in California too?"

Saliha finished eating and got up. She collected her plate and headed to the kitchen, with a frown.

"Oh ya. My restaurant caters so many Pakistanis, and Indians, and other non-South Asians too. It's busy everyday." Zafar came back to his jolly mood. "The cooks that I hired are amazing. It doesn't even feel like you in a foreign country." He smiled.

"That's so nice."

"Whole lot nice. That's why I come very little to Pakistan." He laughed.

Zoha liberally grinned, passed away from the thought of being watched by Manal.

Zafar got up. Zoha was the only one behind. She felt alone, so she got up too and started picking the dirty dishes.