“He means you.” Tanvi nudged Meena. “But Sam, a group date? Aren’t you too grown up for that?”
“I’m taking things slow,” Sam clarified. “Meena’s skittish.”
He seemed to be teasing, or at least Meena hoped so. She didn’t like the idea that he might want to pursue her in any real way.
“So, want to come?”
“Uh.”
“Sunday afternoon.”
“She’s free,” Tanvi answered on Meena’s behalf.
“How do you know?” asked Meena.
“You never leave your apartment.”
“I could have plans.” Meena tried to think of a way out of the invitation.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Great,” Sam said. “I’ll knock on your door around two. Enjoy decorating. Tanvi auntie, can you make sure my designs are more . . .”
“Geometric,” Tanvi finished. “I know. I know.”
“Thank you.”
He walked outside with Wally in his arms.
“He does not like the paisleys and flowers,” Tanvi said. “Grids, squares, triangles, sharp angles. I don’t mind because it challenges me to make something pretty using straight lines.”
Meena followed Tanvi’s pattern on the slab on the other side of her door. She let out a long breath. This was more relaxing than meditation. Tanvi was fun and chatty. Whenever Meena made a mistake, Tanvi didn’t scold her, only went over her work and fixed any flaws. Finished with hers, they moved across the hall to Sam’s slabs. Tanvi hummed under her breath. Meena asked her about the tune, and Tanvi began to sing a Hindi song in response. They worked together until they finished the slabs in front of each apartment.
“Thank you,” Tanvi said. “You’re not too bad at this.”
Meena laughed. “Because you cleaned up a lot of what I did.”
Tanvi stood, tray in hand. “Still. It was nice to have your company.”
“I had fun.” Meena waved goodbye and headed back down to her place. She grabbed her camera to take pictures. She felt a little thrill of energy, the joy of seeing art through her camera—not for an assignment, but for herself, for the pleasure of marking the moment, making note of a memory. Riding on the high, she decided to send a few pictures to Zoe as a way of saying hi and checking in.
She went inside to search for her phone and couldn’t find it. Thinking back to when and where she’d last used it, she retraced her steps to the side chair where she’d left her external hard drives. She felt around between the back and the cushion. “Aha.” She pulled out the phone. Beneath it she felt paper. It could be the cushion tag. She tugged at it. The papery plastic came off in her hand, and she flipped it over. Meena sighed. Neha’s handwriting, in black marker.
Sam is my favorite. Of all who have come and gone, he’s the one who gets me. He lets me be. Right now, he’s helping Sabina with the roses in the back garden. They must be just so, and never a twig out of place. She’s dictating the perfect height of the grass. Sam is following her instructions. He has patience I do not possess. I would prefer the back garden to be messy and grow wild. There is beauty in chaos.
Meena shoved the note into the envelope. A little too on the nose with this one, Neha. She ignored it. There would be another one. Of that Meena was sure. For now she wasn’t going to let Neha’s little notes take away from her cheery mood. She went back and snapped some photos with her phone and sent them to Zoe.
Finally it felt as if she was on a break.