Mrs. Ray looked down at the quarter of the guava covered in orange masala that she was holding and wished she had also asked for it without the added spice.
“But I’m sure it’s delicious,” Upen added, now having noticed that this woman was eating the quarter of her guava covered with the spice and realizing that he sounded like someone with a weak stomach. He did not want her thinking he might have to run to the toilet after eating this.
“Sorry, I have not introduced myself. I’m Upen Chopra. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before.”
“Reema. I’m Reema Ray. It is very nice to meet you,” Mrs. Ray said, extending her hand to shake his.
“Well, Mrs. Ray, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Please call me Reema,” Mrs. Ray said. She wanted to say, It’s Miss, not Mrs., but that was too obvious. And how did it work for widows? She wasn’t sure. She still used her late husband’s name, but as a widow, did you get to go back to Miss at some point? Mrs. Ray had never even thought about this. Regardless, the guard had said that there was a Mrs. Chopra and a son named Johnny, so it did not really matter. In fact, this whole interaction did not really matter, and Mrs. Ray was worried she was going to make a fool of herself. She needed to get back to the Jhas’ home.
“Do you live here? With your family?” Upen said. He wanted to keep her here and talk to her more.
The white BMW that Mrs. Ray had passed pulled up next to them near the guava stand, and the dark window of the backseat went down. The woman in the yoga pants put her head out the window and said, “Upen, darling, how nice to see you. It’s been ages.”
“Sheila. It has indeed. How are you? You look lovely, of course.”
“All for you. What are you doing walking the streets? Come. Come along to the LRC with me.”
“I would love to, but I was just having a chat with Reema here…”
“It’s quite all right. I must be going anyway,” Mrs. Ray said quickly, and walked away from the guava cart and the white BMW and the handsome man. She could never call him darling and invite him into her car. She quickly glanced over her shoulder and saw Upen still standing near the car, his hand resting on top of it, talking into the window. He looked up and saw her looking at him while walking away and he smiled. She smiled back quickly and turned away.
Mrs. Ray walked into the Jhas’ house and went to the kitchen, which was at the back of the ground floor with a door leading out to the small backyard and servants’ quarter. In Mayur Palli, she had no privacy from Ganga, and Ganga had none from her. Ganga’s “servants’ quarter” was just the side room that was used for storage and happened to have a small bathroom attached to it, with an Indian-style squatting toilet. Ganga kept a thin rolled-up mattress to sleep on, and all her belongings fit in a metal trunk that doubled as a table and shrine for her various gods.
“Some tea? How is the rest of the lane?” Mrs. Jha asked, turning off the gas and pouring hot tea, catching the tea leaves in the brass strainer that she held over each cup.
Mrs. Ray nodded.
“So peaceful and quiet. You are lucky to be living here. I think I met the man who lives next door and he was very friendly. And some of the ladies who live around the corner as well.”
“You did? Oh, thank God. I haven’t seen anyone yet. Did you talk to them?”
“No, not really. Just a smile and a hello. They were busy chatting. But they seemed friendly.”
“Oh, Reema,” Mrs. Jha said. “How does one start from scratch at this age? How do I make friends here all over again?”
“The man next door, Upen Chopra, was very friendly. I’m sure his wife will also be wonderful,” Mrs. Ray said.
“Or maybe there’s no wife and you will fall in love with him and move in next door and then I’ll have my friend,” Mrs. Jha said.
“He was quite a handsome neighbor, I must say. But there is a wife. And a son. I don’t think I’ll be shifting in.”
Mr. Jha came into the kitchen.
“The showers look so lovely, I want to jump in right away and take a long, hot shower. Bindu, are the towels here yet?” he said.
“I’m using the towels to pack the dishes. They’ll come with the movers. Are the workers done? Let’s finish the tea and get going now. I want to avoid rush hour.”
“We have a six-CD changer in the car, Bindu. Rush hour is no longer a problem.”
“But we don’t have six CDs in the car,” Mrs. Jha said. “You lock up upstairs and bring the car. Reema and I will walk ahead; I want to see the lane. And you can pick us up near the main road.”
On his way back home, Mr. Chopra dropped his wife off at the tailor because she needed to get some of her blouses loosened, so it was just him and the driver in the car when he saw Mrs. Ray and Mrs. Jha standing near the main road, looking around at the new neighborhood and chatting.
“Nimesh,” Mr. Chopra whispered. “That’s her. That must be her. The new woman of the house—in the jeans and red kurta. I have told my wife a thousand times to lose weight and instead now she is getting her blouses loosened. She ate more than half of my ice cream at the mall just now. Speed up, speed up. If they are still here, maybe Mr. Jha is at the home.”
“Sir, would you like me to stop near the ladies?”
“No, you fool. You can’t just pull up next to ladies in Delhi and stick your head out the window and say hello. They’ll call the police.”
Mr. Chopra’s Jaguar reached his gate right as Mr. Jha’s Mercedes was reversing out of the next driveway.
“Mr. Jha!” Mr. Chopra said, getting out of the car.
“Oh, hello, hello, Dinesh. Please, call me Anil,” Mr. Jha said. He put his car into park and got out to shake hands with Mr. Chopra and push the big gate closed.
“You’ll have to hire a guard soon, Anil,” Mr. Chopra said.
“Yes, we must. As soon as we are settled in,” Mr. Jha said. He knew that Mrs. Jha thought it was unnecessary for a guard to be there all day just to open the gate a few times. Most of the guards weren’t there for actual security purposes anyway. What would these skinny men with no training do if there was an actual breakin? Nothing. Run and hide, probably.
“How is the move coming along? Please do let me know if I can be of any help.”
“How kind of you. I will certainly let you know. And we must raise a toast. But right now, alas, my wife has walked ahead to the main road to explore the area and I must pick her up. But we will be making the final move next week!”
“I think I drove past her while turning in from the main road. Will it be just the two of you?”
“It will be mostly just the two of us. We have a son, but he is in business school in America at the moment.”
“Wonderful. We also have a son. He lives at home. You will meet him. And my brother Upen is also visiting from Chandigarh. God knows why he insists on living in Chandigarh when there’s no family holding him back. In any case, you must come over and meet everyone next time.”
Mr. Jha wondered how this man could have a son young enough to still live at home.