He put his hand over hers. She could see the gold flecks in his dark-brown eyes as he leaned in.
“You forgot to mention that I’m a fucking saint,” he said.
She leaned in and kissed him. His soft lips took over as he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her closer. She cupped his face and poured everything she felt for him into the kiss. He broke it and touched his forehead to hers. “We need to go home.”
She brushed his lips once more. Ten minutes later they were back in the car.
“Home. I like that.” She held his hand as he drove them back east to Boston.
She didn’t have to look back. She wasn’t leaving Northampton in the rearview mirror as she’d done the last time. She would come back, visit the cemetery, and remember that before the pain, there had been joy.
By the first week of May, the apartment was mostly finished. There were throw pillows and fresh flowers. It was far from full, but that suited Meena’s minimalism. She put the final frame on the fireplace mantel. Over the past few days, she had printed out the photos she’d taken from the beginning, from Halloween to chai making. Wally in different stages of growth, Sam in his James Bond tux. The frames peppered the living room, dining area, and bedroom. The mantel held the bulk of her collection.
The aunties were there in all their glory, from raking the backyard to Diwali dinner. She’d included Sabina, because she was a part of Meena’s home, even if they no longer spoke to each other. She sat on her new couch. It needed to be broken in. The cushions were still stiff, but it would get there. Her home was beginning to seem lived in. She’d put a crate for Huckleberry next to her worktable by the window and a dog bed by the fireplace, along with a basket of toys for both Wally and Huck.
Sam had insisted she change the name of the pup to something fierce, something that resembled his stern face. At first she’d told him she was keeping it just to irritate him. Now, though, she referred to the dog as Huck and couldn’t wait to pick him up next week. In the meantime, in between bouts of work, she watched a lot of dog-training videos. Sam had given her a book on it that Meena kept by her bedside.
Meena heard a quick knock on the door, and then Sabina came in.
Meena stood and braced herself.
Sabina glanced around the apartment. Today she was in a long red silk kurta that was like a dress that hit at the knees, black leggings underneath. Her hair was in its usual thick braid down her back.
“Is there something you needed to say?”
Sabina nodded.
Meena sat but kept her back straight, her legs taut.
Sabina joined her on the sofa. “What you said, about growing up. I spent time thinking about it. When I found out I was pregnant, I was . . . I have never known fear like that. It was this one time. I was tired of being the good girl that did what everyone expected. Neha’s cousin was here for a few weeks to look at colleges. He was the first boy to flirt with me. What a cliché, right?”
Meena stayed quiet.
“When I missed my period, and then another one, I didn’t know what to do.” Sabina hugged a throw pillow. “It wasn’t what Indian girls did. Sex was for after marriage. I thought my parents would disown me. Put me out on the street. I couldn’t leave. Not this legacy. I wanted to be a caretaker of this house more than anything else. I went to Neha. She was older. When I started to show, Neha set up a fake internship where I would study landscaping at Smith College for six months. A live-in opportunity to strengthen my college application. I stayed by myself in a studio apartment near the college campus, the one and only time I lived alone. She’d arranged it all. She even found a family a month before my due date. After you were born, Neha took care of all the paperwork and the exchange. Two days after I gave birth, I was home. I went on as if those nine months never happened.”
“Did you manage to forget?”