“You’re not funny.”
“And you’re not seeing what is right in front of you. You are both single, around the same age, well educated, and about the same level of attractiveness. Not to mention that I’ve noticed the little looks between you, the way you smile when you’re around each other.”
“Can I try?” Meena asked.
“Fine. Change the subject.” Tanvi held out the tray.
Meena took a pinch of green between the fingers of her uncased hand and gently drizzled it in the empty space, mimicking the pattern Tanvi had created. “This is very cool. The powder is so soft, like silk.” Her fingers were covered in green, and she shared the damp towel Tanvi had used to clean up between colors, then chose bright orange, a bit of gold, and white to finish the slab. “The marble is interesting. It holds the powder well.”
“It’s the same type used to build the Taj Mahal,” Tanvi said. “I had it shipped over from Agra when I went for a visit about a decade ago. Ten squares, two for each door. Then I treated it, roughed it up a little to make the texture grainy enough to hold powder.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Have you been?” Tanvi asked. “In all of your travels, did you ever go to India?”
Meena shook her head. She wondered if she would have found a sense of belonging if she’d gone. “No. I’ve been to a lot of countries in Southeast Asia but never had an assignment in India.”
“Your work sounds so glamorous.”
Meena laughed. “The opposite. It’s a lot of couch surfing, traveling in coach, and squeezing in as much as possible to meet tight deadlines.”
“Then this must be nice,” Tanvi said. “A little break.”
“Yeah.” It was turning out to be a little more than that, but she’d stayed put, and that was something.
“You need to explore,” Tanvi exclaimed. “Go out and make friends. Date Sam.”
“You’re tenacious.”
“Start small, then. Sabina has a big Diwali dinner for all of us. Put it in your calendar.”
Meena nodded. “Did Neha help decorate?” She bit her lip. The curiosity would not leave her.
Tanvi glanced at Meena. “You want to know about her.”
“I’m staying in her home.” Meena shrugged a shoulder.
Tanvi sat down, her back against a wall, her arms around her knees. “I’m not sure how to describe someone I’ve known my whole life. She liked to dance. Garba. It’s part of the Gujarati pre-Diwali festivities. For nine nights, we dance during Navratri. Neha liked to go to the suburbs on the weekends, where people hosted dances in high school gyms.”
“Alone?”
Tanvi laughed. “Sometimes. Uma and I went with her a few times. She had a lot of stamina. Garba starts late, around nine at night, and doesn’t end until one or two in the morning. But she loved being on that hardwood floor all night, continuously dancing in circles.”
The door across the hall opened, and Wally charged at the two of them. Tanvi screeched. Meena caught the puppy with her good arm and held him against her. He yipped. His body wriggled for freedom.
“Oh no.” Sam ran out the door. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s OK.” Meena grabbed the runaway dog with her free arm. “I got him before he did any damage.”
“Tanvi auntie?”
“I’m fine.” Tanvi held the tray of powders out of reach. “You’re going to have to carry him around from now until after Diwali. Or he’ll be covered in color like Holi.”
Sam reached down and scooped Wally up. “I didn’t know it was that time.”
“We’re a little late in decorating. Diwali is early this year.” Tanvi looked at Meena. “And we had to finish Halloween.”
“You didn’t call me to get the marble out of the basement,” Sam said.
“I made Pi do it.” Tanvi waved his comment off. “That was his contribution this year. Meena, I will need you later when I do the lights outside.”
“Text me,” Sam said.
“I was just asking Meena about your date, Sam.”
Meena’s eyes widened. This woman was relentless. “I explained that it was dinner.”
“We had a good time.” Sam shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
“Don’t encourage her,” Meena groaned.
“That’s good.” Tanvi wiped her hand on the artist’s apron she wore. “When is the next one?”
Meena turned to Sam. “See what I mean?”
“I was actually coming to ask about that.” He laughed.
“Oh, isn’t that nice.” Tanvi winked at Meena.
Meena glared at Sam. He smirked.
“A few of my friends and I are doing an escape room in the North End this weekend, if you’d like to join us.”
“He means you.” Tanvi nudged Meena. “But Sam, a group date? Aren’t you too grown up for that?”
“I’m taking things slow,” Sam clarified. “Meena’s skittish.”
He seemed to be teasing, or at least Meena hoped so. She didn’t like the idea that he might want to pursue her in any real way.
“So, want to come?”
“Uh.”
“Sunday afternoon.”
“She’s free,” Tanvi answered on Meena’s behalf.
“How do you know?” asked Meena.
“You never leave your apartment.”
“I could have plans.” Meena tried to think of a way out of the invitation.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Great,” Sam said. “I’ll knock on your door around two. Enjoy decorating. Tanvi auntie, can you make sure my designs are more . . .”
“Geometric,” Tanvi finished. “I know. I know.”
“Thank you.”
He walked outside with Wally in his arms.
“He does not like the paisleys and flowers,” Tanvi said. “Grids, squares, triangles, sharp angles. I don’t mind because it challenges me to make something pretty using straight lines.”