Aditi had tried a few times to interact with him, but between his own need to maintain a distance, being busy with ensuring Ankit was okay, and keeping tabs on The Singapore Map,Rian had had his hands full, only coming home late at night to sleep and sometimes pick a change of clothes.
For nearly two weeks, this had been his life. Now that things were finally slowing down, he couldn’t ignore the obvious.
Aditi Krishnan waseverywhere.
When he walked into his house, her sensible shoes were lined neatly next to his collection of sneakers. When he grabbed himself a glass from his kitchen, he’d inevitably see one of her silly mugs with nonsensical jokes sitting in the sink. Sometimes, when he returned home late at night, he’d see her huddled form wrapped like a caterpillar and sleeping on his couch, a confusing array ofitems littered on the centre table while the TV ran on low volume. By the time he left the next morning, the space looked pristine, which meant that any complaint about her penchant to doze off in the living room and have stacks of books and papers on his table suddenly became invalid.
Even otherwise, he doubted he could crib about Aditi to Nanamma. Rian had observed them more than once on the way out to work, and the manner in which they interacted would have fooled anyone into thinking that it was Rian who was the houseguest.
Aditi had endeared herself to Nanamma so thoroughly in his time away that his obvious desire to remain aloof from her had had his grandmother shooting him disapproving looks anytime they were in the same room.
Additionally, he had been surprised to find that nearly everyone in the vicinity of his apartment building had met and fallen in unconditional love with Dr. Aditi Krishnan. From his newspaper boy to the maid, the shopkeeper across the street, the kids in the locality, and even the security guards, everyone asked him about Aditi when they saw him, often giving him something or the other to hand over to her.
Rian would promptly leave the gift on his kitchen counter in a silent ritual of passing the parcel. He assumed she received it because it was usually gone by the time he returned. Despite being curious about these parcels, Rian stayed away from Aditi as he had promised Nanamma.
Which brought him here. Still ignoring her, still feeling awkward in his own house, and still not understanding why.
He shut the fourth cupboard he checked, grunting in annoyance. Where the hell was his favourite mortar and pestle?
Assuming he’d just missed seeing it, he went back to the cabinet he usually stored it in, pulling out random objects to check behind, to no avail.
Perplexed, he stood back, staring at the cupboards as though doing so would make it magically reappear.
“Looking for something?”
Rian’s head swung to the side, hiding his surprise when he realised that Aditi had entered the kitchen and was staring at the same shelves as him. How had he not heard her?
“You move quietly,” he commented, unable to stop himself.
Aditi broke out into a lopsided grin.
“Occupational hazard. Working in ICUs got me used to treading very quietly, trying to not disturb the patients.”
He didn’t acknowledge the answer, simply turning away from her to begin searching anew.
“Are you searching for something?” she asked again. “Maybe I could help.”
“Doubt it.”
“You don’t know that. Try me.”
“Doc, this is my kitchen. If I cannot find something here, it is unlikely that you will.”
“Let’s assume I will fail,” she easily agreed. “Would you care to tell me what it is I will be failing in searching for?”
Damn, she was tenacious. Rian blew out a quick breath, wishing for patience before he answered her.
“It's a marble pestle and mortar, about yea big,” he gestured, holding his curved hands a few inches apart.
A moment later, she brushed past him and bent down towards a lower shelf, pulling out the very thing he’d been searching for. She placed it on the counter near him, grabbing a small green jar from a drawer as well.
“I figured you’ll need the cardamom too,” she said, nodding towards the bottle.
Rian peered at her, confused how she had known that. His curiosity must have shown because almost immediately, she offered an explanation.
“Looks like you’re going to make a late night drink, so. . .”
“That was not where I usually store it,” he said, pointing at the base drawer she’d just closed. “How did you know where my mortar and pestle was?”