The Candid Life of Meena Dave(55)

“Who are you thinking about?” Fiona asked.

Meena touched her cheek. “No one. It’s warm in here.”

“No it’s not.” Fiona pointed her glass toward Meena. “Spill.”

“It isn’t like that,” Meena said.

“Now I’m curious.” Paul leaned toward her. “Tell.”

“Nothing to talk about,” Meena said. “Besides, my arm was in a cast for the last two months, and I was stuck inside. It wasn’t as if I could do much.”

“There are many interesting possibilities with one hand.” Bernie smirked.

A quick laugh escaped her. They were being so nice, she didn’t want to be churlish. “There is someone. Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Their silence was quick and acute.

Meena awkwardly kept going. “He lived, uh, lives, across the hall from where I was staying in Boston. He’s nice and cute. And he has an awesome dog.”

“I love a man with a dog,” Paul said. “I want one, but . . .”

“It’s a big commitment,” Aiden added.

“Forget the dog,” Zoe said. “Tell me more about the neighbor.”

Meena laughed. “We became friends.”

“Name,” Paul said.

“Sam.”

“Profession.”

“Special effects,” Meena stated. “For movies and television.”

“Good kisser?”

Meena blushed. “We didn’t . . . uh, it wasn’t like that.”

“But you wanted to.” Zoe grinned.

“Yeah,” Meena said. “It got complicated.”

“Always does.” Bernie sighed.

“Besides,” Meena said, “I’m on the road. He’s the type that enjoys being in one place. We’re very different.”

“But you like him,” Fiona said. “I can hear it in your voice.”

Meena touched her warm face again. “It’s like I’m a teenager with a crush.”

Zoe touched her knee. “I hope we never stop being fifteen when we like someone.”

Meena gave her friend a wide smile. “Yeah.”

“Ask him to come join you for New Year’s Eve,” Paul urged.

“Like a grand gesture,” Fiona said. “Buy him a plane ticket, get him over here.”

“That would be very premature.” Meena couldn’t imagine ever doing such a thing.

“Show us a picture, then.” Bernie waved her hand for Meena’s phone.

Meena opened the gallery app and handed it to Bernie.

Paul looked over Bernie’s shoulder. “These three women are magic.”

“The aunties run that building. In a way they are the building.”

“Is this the guy?” Fiona asked. “A disheveled man in a tux is really sexy.”

“He dressed as James Bond for Halloween.”

“I’ll swap you,” Fiona suggested. “You with whoever Zoe has me with, and your James Bond with me to ring in the New Year.”

Meena felt a twinge of possessiveness for Sam. She wanted to be the one to kiss Sam at midnight.

She put away her phone as their meals were served. Meena dug in. The beef was perfectly cooked, dark on the outside, pink on the inside. The gravy with the Yorkshire pudding was made to be sopped up. Meena didn’t feel like an interloper. Today, for this brief time, in this red chair, she felt she had a place at this table among these people.

As the afternoon wore off and the gray sky turned dark, Meena huddled back into her coat and scarf. She said her goodbyes and headed back to the apartment while Zoe went to Aiden’s.

Her head was full in a good way as the prosecco bubbles traveled throughout her body and gave her shimmery warmth on the inside. She walked over the bridge back to Battersea behind a couple who were arm in arm, and in that moment, though she was wistful, she didn’t feel as alone as she normally did. She grabbed her phone from her coat and scrolled down to Sam’s name.

She didn’t quite hit the call button. What was there to say? She could ask after Wally, or just say hi. But it was awkward. Although, knowing Sam, he would take it in stride. Silly. They’d been neighbors for a few weeks, friends. Nothing more.

Meena tucked the phone back in her pocket and continued on her way.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


Meena clasped her hands in front of her as the toned, slim woman on the television said, “Namaste.” She exhaled as Zoe turned off the yoga class.

I’m Indian. I’m allowed. It was one of the first things Sam had said to her. To know something that basic—she’d never realized what a luxury that was. Most people took it for granted.

“I needed that.” Zoe patted her face with a towel. “A good start to dry January.”

“Every year . . . ,” Meena began.

“I know, I never make it to the end of January.” Zoe cut her off. “I lack discipline, but one of these times, I will finish the whole month. The fridge is stocked with veggies and fish, brown rice is the only carb in the house. I’ve got plenty of herbal tea. No caffeine. No alcohol. No food that’s not on the list. And no fun.”

Meena scooched back on the yoga mat to lean against the navy couch. “At least you have company with Fiona and Paul doing the same.”