The Candid Life of Meena Dave(67)

No ties. No knots.

She stayed in Sam’s arms. Let him steady her. Keep her in place.

“Don’t run.” Sam held her.

Her eyes clashed with his. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“You’re not thinking, you’re feeling,” Sam said. “That’s what you want to stop doing by running.”

“Therapist?”

“Special effects engineer.”

She laughed, and it helped her come up for air.

“Stay and figure it out.” Sam stroked her hair. “The only way is through.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


She hadn’t run. But she’d hidden. She’d avoided. She didn’t want to see the aunties or sit at a table with them knowing one of them shared her DNA. The last few days, she’d tried to manage her feelings, contain her anger. She wanted to confront them but didn’t know how. She didn’t know what they knew, and they didn’t know what she knew.

She put her palms on her warm cheeks. She had the puzzle pieces, but not the whole of it. She channeled her exasperation into cleaning. The living room was less cluttered, the knickknacks packed up in three boxes in the corner. She shook lamp bases, opened lids, and looked under every possible item for other notes. She didn’t want to miss any further musings. Neha had written that the truth would be revealed. Maybe it was still here somewhere. She knew enough about Neha to know that the woman had a warped personality and a cruel streak. Maybe she’d find a birth certificate or hints of names, date of birth, place of birth. But she found nothing.

Meena had looked at archives online for people with her birthday, but without much to go on, it was too long a list. One thing was certain. Meena no longer wanted to play this game in which Neha was the only one who knew the rules. The aunties, or one of them, would have to tell her. No more notes. She didn’t want to read any more of Neha’s ambiguous words. She wanted someone to narrate from beginning to end. She was no longer amused by or interested in unearthing facts. This was her past, her future. She wanted it in plain, simple terms.

Meena got up from the couch. She needed to do something. Spending this much time in her head was unbearable. She flung open the apartment door. If anyone passed through the hall, she would talk to them. If it was one of the aunties, she’d face them, confront them, wait for an explanation. Flowers and hearts assaulted her, the former with their sharp scent, the latter with their overwhelming presence in the hallway.

Heart-shaped wreaths of fresh red and white roses hung on her and Sam’s doors. The inside staircase was laden with small red satin hearts tied to each baluster, a large white satin heart attached to the newel. The small hall table held a bouquet of preserved red roses with a giant silver ribbon around the vase, the diffuser making the hall smell like the queen’s rose garden.

Valentine’s Day. Of course. There wasn’t a holiday the aunties didn’t celebrate. She stepped outside to see what they’d done with the exterior of the building. Shivering in only her sweater, jeans, and socks, she made it to the front stoop to take in the large heart-shaped wreaths on the doors and the twinkle lights in red and white around the iron railings before rushing back inside.

Except she didn’t want to go back to the apartment. She didn’t want to be alone. Arms wrapped around herself, Meena paused. Four months ago she’d never thought of wanting company. Her work had afforded her enough interaction with different types of people that she hadn’t minded the time she spent alone. This was a different kind of need, though. She wanted not strangers and small talk but something deeper with someone she knew, who knew her.

On impulse, she knocked on Sam’s door. He was the one she wanted. She heard Wally bark as Sam opened the door. He was rumpled in another one of his long-sleeved T-shirts, this one with an MIT logo, and gray sweats. His eyes looked red behind his glasses. Meena fidgeted.

“Didn’t you hear me say come in?”

Meena shook her head. “Sorry. I was in my own head.”

Sam held the door wide and Meena walked through. Wally bounced out of his crate and ran toward her. At least the dog wanted to see her. She crouched down to give Wally proper love and gave in to the need to press her face into his fur. The loneliness of the week caught up with her, and she stayed there until Wally squirmed to escape her hold. She stood, uncertain, as the pup went back to his crate and gnawed on a toy.

“Do you want to grab lunch?” Meena asked.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m on deadline and have a lot of work.”

His eyes were distant, focused on something other than her. She should go. She was bothering him.

“I’ll go. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

He took her by the hand. “I’m sorry. You need to talk and I’m here.”

She shook her head. “I was the one that told you I needed to be alone, and you respected that. I can’t come in here and expect you to drop everything now that I can no longer stand to be in my own skin.”

“Friends do that for each other,” Sam said. “Tell me.”

She paced in front of him. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m still angry at Neha, at the aunties, at everything. I want to confront them and blow it all out in the open.”

“Then do that,” Sam said. “Don’t plot or plan. Just go with the straightforward truth.”