She laughed. Together they cleared their plates and put away the pizza. Not ready to leave, she asked if they could watch his favorite James Bond movie. She curled into his body, and he played with a thick strand of her hair. When the movie ended, she decided to leave. She wanted to sleep in her own bed, in her own home, by herself tonight. To accept it as hers. To view it as both her history and her future.
She gave Wally a few rubs, then gave Sam a kiss before heading back to her apartment. Without the books, the living room was even more open, less oppressive. Tomorrow she would figure out how she wanted to decorate. It was time for Neha to be laid to rest.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The apartment was clear of most everything. Meena kept only the dining table and chairs. It was where she’d started her journey from that first meal with the aunties to now, where she could see the steady view of the garden and the street. She looked forward to the familiarity of it as seasons changed.
In the last two weeks, she and Sam had hauled out, binned, boxed up, and donated all Neha’s things. Last week she’d bought a brand-new bed, one with a headboard—which was a sign that you’ve crossed into your thirties, according to the internet. She’d decided her bedroom would be neutral, in grays and whites, throw pillows adding a little bit of color. Sam didn’t understand why beds needed throw pillows, so she’d texted him links to half a dozen design articles. She’d gone with bright purples from deep to lavender. Instead of the vanity, she’d added two armchairs in gray, one on either side of the fireplace.
For the living room, she wanted something that complemented the bones of the apartment with a modern flair. She would slowly add to the bookshelves. For now there were colorful candle jars to give them a less empty feeling. The sofa would be the centerpiece in deep navy, and there would be a Dutch-style oblong coffee table in light wood and a gray armchair on either side of the fireplace as a nod to symmetry. She’d splurged on a worktable, switching out the antique desk for one with a clean, flat design and an ergonomic chair. The gray rug was replaced by a thick white one that covered the whole of the room. Wally would likely get it dirty, but she wanted the room to feel bright and open. All of it had taken a toll on her savings, but it was worth it. She had a home. Not just a base.
She even had a local assignment, a feature on kundalini yoga in the Berkshires in western Massachusetts. Meena looked out into the backyard from her seat at her new desk. It was too soon to tell, but the patch of grass where she’d sown the wildflower seeds was beginning to regain color after winter hibernation. She looked forward to seeing what would grow.
Plans. Future. Not the “wait and see if I’m still here” type. She was committed to tending to the patch of flowers. Just as she’d joined Sam’s pub trivia league with his friends. She had more than ten personal, nonwork, nonnetwork contacts in her phone, including Ava and Dinus.
She watched as Wally ran around the yard. Sam was giving him a little more freedom by leaving him in the yard on his own. She waited for Sabina to charge down and stop the dog from digging against the back fence.
There was a soft knock on her door.
“Come in,” Meena said.
Sabina came in, a folder in her hands. “I’m hoping we could talk.”
Meena moved to greet her. “Of course. Would you like chai? Or something to drink?” Now that she’d put it all behind her, she was fine with being casual and friendly with the aunties. She might still wonder . . . she might still look for a sense of familiarity . . . but she planned to focus on what she had and let the rest of it go.
Sabina stayed still in the living room. “It looks different.”
Meena nodded. “It’s more me now. Though I didn’t know what ‘me’ was. I’m just glad there are a lot of home decor blogs with advice. You won’t believe how many quizzes I took to figure out what I wanted. I like it.” She chewed her lip. She didn’t want Sabina’s approval, exactly, but a compliment would be meaningful. “Sam likes it, but then again, he’s not really a style maven. He’s happy that he can stretch his legs out and rest his feet on the coffee table. He also wants me to get a TV, a giant flat-screen, but he has his own. I’m fine using my computer.” She forced herself to stop talking.