Smita got to her feet. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get out for a few minutes, also. Get some fresh air.”
Mohan glanced at Nandini. “Theek hai?” he asked quietly. “You can always phone us if you need anything.”
But Nandini seemed as eager to get rid of Smita as the latter was to go. “Yes, yes, very good,” she said, nodding vigorously. “If there is any news, I will call.”
“Arre, yaar, they haven’t even given Shannon anesthesia yet. We will be here for several more hours.”
The salty sea air hit them as soon as they exited the hospital, and Smita inhaled deeply. “It’s such a beautiful location for a hospital,” she said.
Mohan looked at her curiously. After a moment he said, “Would you like to go look at the water for a few minutes?”
“Can we? That would be lovely. Tomorrow I have to leave town to go cover this story.” She heard the whininess in her voice and bit the inside of her cheek in embarrassment.
“Sure,” he said, “Follow me.”
Mohan took the outer edge of the sidewalk, closer to the traffic, and the absentminded gracefulness of the gesture made Smita smile. Papa used to do this when they lived in Mumbai.
“So, for whatever reason, I take it you don’t wish to go to Birwad?” Mohan asked as they walked. His tone was pleasant, conversational.
She hesitated. “Well, I’m not looking forward to spending all this time in a car with Nandini,” she said at last. “The woman seems to have taken an intense dislike to me.”
“Rubbish,” Mohan said promptly. “It’s not that at all. You misunderstand. She is just reluctant to leave Shannon, that’s all. You see, she obviously doesn’t think I’m capable of taking care of her.” He smiled. “But may I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Did you . . . It’s just that, you seemed upset when Shannon asked you to cover the story for her. Why did you agree to come if you don’t wish to do so?”
Smita sighed. “I thought she wanted me to come help take care of her in the hospital. If I’d known that she was okay, that is, that she had you and Nandini, then I . . .”
“Then what?” Mohan said. “You wouldn’t have come?”
Ruminating over Mohan’s question, she swerved to avoid the outstretched arm of the fruit vendor who was holding out a slice of orange for her to sample. “No, I guess I would’ve come anyway if there was no one else to take over,” she finally said. “But I wouldn’t have been caught unawares.”
He nodded. “You should’ve seen your expression when Shannon asked you, yaar.” He made such a grotesque face that Smita laughed.
“Did I really look that shocked?”
“Worse.” And again, he pulled a long, doleful face.
“Hey,” Smita said, “changing the subject, I need to buy a few outfits for tomorrow. Are there any stores around here where I can buy a few pairs of shalwar kameez or something?”
“My friend, you are in Breach Candy. You can buy a new set of grandparents here if you wish.” As he spoke, he gestured with his hand to turn right into a park.
Smita’s breath caught at the sight of the dark pink bougainvillea bushes. And beyond that, the thin gray lip of the Arabian Sea. Tall coconut trees lined the wide walkway that led toward the stone benches facing the water. “Oh wow,” she breathed. “This is stunning.”
Mohan looked pleased. “Thank you,” he said quietly, as if she had complimented him on his own apartment. “You should come here at sunset. It’s heaven on earth.”
She thought of all the beautiful, magical places she had visited—Capri, Saint-Tropez, Paros. As beautiful as this park was it could hardly compare with the heart-stopping beauty of the places she’d been. And yet, in the middle of a dirty, crowded metropolis, it was a kind of paradise. She took in the old couples sitting quietly on the stone benches, watched the affluent residents of the neighborhood walk briskly by, the old gardener watering the pots of flowers that dotted the walkway. But what tore at her heart was the sight of the middle-aged women, fat as dumplings, jogging in their tennis shoes and saris, their bellies jiggling. Something about this sight felt so quintessentially Mumbai. Or Bombay, as her parents insisted on calling their old city. Yeah, this was Papa’s Bombay—cosmopolitan, sophisticated, but also resolutely out of step with the rest of the world.
She nodded. “It is,” she said.