I would have jumped like a fool at the chance to offer her another piece. But my dad put his hand on my shoulder. He said to Kelly, “He can make.” “Wow, really?” said Kelly. “You can make this?” Reader, she looked at me as if I was Abbas the Baker himself. I can’t really make baklava so I shrugged. In Farsi I said, “I can’t make baklava.” “Your mother can teach you,” said my dad. “That’s practically the same. It’s more of a promise. You could make it if she asked.” It’s not like she became my girlfriend. But I did learn to make baklava later, just in case it comes up again.
