“And his handsome face,” Tanvi said.
“It’s not a bad match,” Uma added.
Meena finished the last of her drink. “Where to next?”
“To the Oak Long Bar.” Uma raised her arm and pumped her fist.
Tanvi linked arms with Meena as they walked down Dartmouth Street and crossed Boylston. The cool air cleared Meena’s head. She could see the wreaths being placed on the beautiful old building that housed the public library. Groups of tourists posed for photos on the steps next to the two sculptures—both of women, one holding a globe and the other a paintbrush and palette. Carved into the stone facade were the words FREE TO ALL.
She’d been inside a long time ago, on a sixth-grade class trip to Boston for the day. Sadly, she couldn’t remember any of the building’s history. Sam would know. If he were here, he’d narrate random facts in his deep voice that caused her stomach to flip over. Whoa. She caught herself. Where did that come from?
A frigid gust whipped around Meena as they approached the entrance to the Oak Long Bar.
Inside, the chandeliers, high ceilings, and large leather armchairs were all designed to make the wealthy feel comfortable. The hostess led them to their table, and Meena sank into a chair that belonged in a living room instead of a restaurant.
“There is an extra-cold, extra-dirty martini with my name on it.” Uma sat across from her. “If you’re looking for recommendations.”
“Or she could look at the cocktail menu,” Tanvi said. “I prefer to be more adventurous than order the same drink every time.”
The waiter took their orders, and Meena listened to their stories of past vacations. They talked over each other, teased each other, and laughed. A lot. Three cocktails in, Meena had learned a few things about herself. One, the Autumn Star was her least favorite drink. She didn’t mind the apple brandy, but vermouth was disgusting. Two, gin, which she didn’t often drink, was her liquor of choice. Three, she preferred the Bee’s Knees over the gimlet.
“OK, enough of our stories.” Uma sipped her third or possibly fifth martini. “Your turn, Meena. Tell us something about you.”
Her brain was foggy as she tried to remember something interesting. “I have been to base camp of six of the Seven Summits.”
“That’s boring.” Tanvi frowned. “Give us something juicy. Like a torrid affair, a horrible heartbreak.”
Meena toyed with the lime on the rim of her glass.
“Forget heartbreaks,” Uma said. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
Meena snapped her eyes to Uma. “I don’t think so.”
The aunties burst into laughter.
“If you do, we’ll help you bury the body,” Uma offered.
She wanted to believe them. She wanted to belong among them, be a part of the building. She could admit that only because alcohol flowed through her bloodstream and jostled her brain into wishing for things. She looked at Sabina, who stayed quiet at the idea of helping Meena in any way. A knot formed in her throat.
There was Zoe, of course. Zoe would be there for her and always had been. It was Meena who kept the friendship at a remove. The truth was that she hadn’t been part of a friend group since high school. She and her best friend, Holly, had been inseparable from kindergarten. But Meena had shut her out after everything happened. Hadn’t stayed in touch after the funeral. Holly had said her parents would come get Meena so Meena could spend weekends at her house, but Meena hadn’t called. She didn’t want to go back to that town, see others there living their lives when hers was gone.
“Can I ask you something?” Meena hesitated.
“Oh Lord. We really are going to have to bury a body,” Tanvi said. “Uma, you’re the muscle. Sabina, you’re the brains.”