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The Candid Life of Meena Dave(32)

Author:Namrata Patel

“Do you always wear a group costume?” Meena asked.

“Since we were little girls,” Tanvi said. “We’ve been condiments, Charlie’s Angels . . .”

“The Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus was fun.” Uma popped a cookie in her mouth.

“One year we were Amar, Akbar, and Anthony.” Sabina unwrapped a piece of candy.

“I don’t know who they are.” Meena scratched at the edge of the cast.

Sam shook his head. “She doesn’t watch movies.”

“That’s classic Bollywood,” Sabina said.

Tanvi patted Sabina’s shoulder. “We should have a movie night.”

“I’ll bring my DVD of Goldfinger,” Sam offered.

“No,” both Sabina and Uma were quick to reply.

Sam objected. “She’s never seen any Bond movies.”

Meena frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a movie I want to watch.”

He gave her an exaggerated hurt look. His bow tie had come loose and hung around his neck. A few curls were winning against whatever product he’d used to slick back his hair. Meena held up her camera. She wanted to capture him like this. Elegance undone.

In profile, he was accessibly handsome. She snapped a few pictures. There were crinkles on the side of his eye as if he laughed and smiled readily. He had a small dimple on the side of his chin. A faint scar next to it. He stared at her. Through the lens. And for a moment, she couldn’t look away. She saw the depth in his eyes. There was an abyss within him, if one was willing to search for it.

Uncomfortable, she lowered her camera.

“Sorry,” Meena said.

His eyes cleared to cover the depth. “I don’t mind modeling for you.” The uncomplicated casualness came over his face. “Vora. Sam Vora.”

“Your accent needs work, darling.” Tanvi spoke in a perfect upper-class British accent.

The aunties laughed.

To break the link between her and Sam, Meena stood and aimed her camera at the aunties. “I want to capture the aftermath.” Wally looked up to assure himself that everyone was still there, then flopped his head back down and closed his eyes.

“How did you decide who would be what flavor?” Meena asked.

“We figured it out during our planning meeting,” Tanvi said. “Sometimes it’s easy and we naturally fall into it. Like of course I’m Curly, Uma is Moe, and Sabina is Larry. It was like that this time.”

“Because my personality is dark.” Uma made an exaggerated frown.

“According to this one”—Sabina pointed to Uma—“the world is a terrible place, and we have to spend every waking hour making sure we remember.”

Uma nudged Tanvi’s shoulder. “And try to change it.”

“Sabina is very obviously vanilla,” Tanvi said.

“Boring,” Uma added. “Pristine. Clean. Pure.”

Meena captured Sabina’s eye roll.

“And Tanvi is tart and sweet.” Sabina tossed a piece of candy at Tanvi.

“More tart than sweet,” added Uma.

Tanvi fluffed her big updo, which was wrapped in a sparkly chain of glittering glass strawberries.

“I did have more fun than these two in high school,” Tanvi said. “Multiple boyfriends until I met my husband in college.”

“Pi, right?” Meena recalled the person she’d met earlier. “I chatted with him earlier.”

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