The Candid Life of Meena Dave(29)

Sam sighed as he closed the door behind him. “We both need some time away from each other. He’ll settle. I gave Tanvi strict instructions not to bring him out of his crate.”

“Tough love.” Meena felt bad for the puppy and for Sam.

“The training videos on YouTube say it’s good for him. We don’t want him to have separation anxiety every time I leave him home.”

“You think the aunties will stay away?”

“I can only hope.”

It was dusk, even though it was just past five thirty. Tonight the clocks would change. She used to hate it when daylight saving ended. Remembered leaving school in the dark even though it was barely four. Perpetual darkness. She never liked this side of fall and winter.

“How was your trip?”

“It was good, productive.”

“Iceland bars. Sounds fun.”

She told him about the people she’d met and repeated the joke Odkell had told her.

“Tanvi mentioned your door was locked again,” Sam mentioned. “That’s how she knew you were back.”

“I haven’t seen them yet,” Meena said.

“Everything OK?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem, I don’t know, sad?”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m tired. I’ve been wrestling with some things, and I can’t seem to stop thinking about it.”

“I’m a good listener,” Sam offered.

“I know,” Meena said. “I’m still sorting out the words to explain when I don’t know what’s going on myself.”

“I get it.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Just a career crisis and finding my birth mother, who is dead, while finally mourning my real parents, who died when I was sixteen.

They walked for a bit, and Meena appreciated that Sam didn’t have the need to fill every pause. As they neared the Public Garden, the street was busy with people cutting through on their way home from work or to meet friends. A few who didn’t mind the crisp chill in the air sat on benches. She wondered if Neha had spent much time in the large park in the middle of the city.

“I looked up Neha’s obituary,” Meena said.

“I was the one who wrote it.”

“Not the aunties?”

“Sabina planned the funeral, Uma took care of the food, Tanvi the flowers. Their husbands performed the rites, and I wrote the obituary.”

“You each had a role.”

“We went with our strengths.”

“What about her parents?” My grandparents?

“Sabina reached out to them,” Sam said. “Neha didn’t have much of a relationship with them. At their age, they weren’t up for a long flight from Nairobi.”

“The aunties must miss her.”

Sam gave a short laugh. “Probably. They had their challenges.”

“Neha wasn’t part of their trio?”

“Not like they are to each other, no.”

They walked through the lush colors of the Public Garden and over the footbridge. As dusk gave way to night, Boston’s skyline gleamed through the yellowing weeping willows. Leaves crunched under her boots. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The brisk air was cool and comforting on her face.

“This used to be the world’s shortest functioning suspension bridge, until the 1920s,” Sam pointed out.

“Interesting.”

“I didn’t say that to impress you. A few friends and I belong to a pub trivia league, and I know a lot of random facts.”

“This isn’t something you learned on your annual walk of the Freedom Trail?”

He laughed. “I will have you know that we aren’t currently on it. If you look down and see red lines, that’s the marker.”

“I know.” Meena recalled the long bus rides as a kid. “We used to come to Boston on history school trips.”

“I remember those,” Sam said. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been on the USS Constitution.”

“And the Bunker Hill Monument.”

“In all your travels, what’s been your favorite place?” Sam asked.

They crossed over from the Public Garden and headed into Boston Common. Meena thought about his question. “That’s tough to answer. It depends.”

“On?”

Meena looked over at the white gazebo as the footpath sloped up. “The assignment. I love the wildness of Scotland, the people of Vietnam, the expansiveness of Alaska. There’s always something about a place.”

“What about just to be, to go on vacation?”

“I’ve never taken one of those.”

They crossed Beacon Street and headed up Beacon Hill. The architecture changed. The streets became narrower, the row houses smaller. The streetlamps gave the area a Victorian feel. She could almost hear horses clomping through the street.

“Why not?”

Meena shrugged. “I guess since I’m always on the road, it never occurred to me.”

Sam sighed. “That makes sense, just extend time wherever you are to explore or relax.”

Meena let him assume. Relaxing wasn’t something she did well. That was why she meditated. She couldn’t imagine lying on the beaches in Indonesia without purpose. The next thing was always waiting. Maybe that was all she needed. A long vacation. Except she couldn’t get away from her thoughts. “What about you? Your favorite place?”