Meena chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t have a lot of practice being a good friend. I have Zoe and she’s great. No matter how many invitations I pass up, she still asks.”
“She sounds lovely.”
“She is. I’m going to be better.” Meena knew she had to keep working on building and maintaining relationships. “With Zoe and with you all.”
“Don’t sell yourself too short,” Tanvi said. “There is something you’re doing right with Zoe for her to keep asking.”
“More like she’s as stubborn as you. Never takes no for an answer.”
Tanvi bobbled her head from side to side. “Oh, I always take no. So does Uma. We respect everyone’s choices.”
“Sabina?”
“It takes her time to accept things that don’t go the way she wants them to.”
“I’m glad to be your friend,” Meena said. “I’m sorry I left the way I did. Came back the way I did.”
“History always starts in the present.” Tanvi folded a sweater. “One warning, though. Be careful what you wish for. I’m a bad influence.”
Meena laughed. “I can use a little bit of that. Though maybe baby steps when it comes to day drinking.”
“That was fun.” Tanvi laughed. “Right now we’re drying out from last week. We took our January trip to Saint Bart’s, and it was nonstop fruity cocktails on the beach, wine for dinner, and making memories we’ve already forgotten thanks to the constant flow of alcohol.”
“I hope you took pictures.”
“We never document our trips. We have no desire to be the Real Housewives of the Engineer’s House.” Tanvi tapped her head. “It either sticks here or it was meant to be forgotten.”
Meena hesitated, then went for it. “Maybe I can join in next year.”
The surprise on Tanvi’s face made her cringe.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I know it’s the three of you, your friendship bond . . .”
“As long as you promise to leave your camera behind,” Tanvi said. “You’re more than welcome. The rules are no husbands, no boyfriends, no cameras, no witnesses.”
Meena tugged her phone from the side table and took a few pics of Tanvi. “But you’re so photogenic.” She snapped away, then laughed as Tanvi camped for the camera, holding up sweaters and putting the back of her hand on her forehead in exaggerated dismay.
They finished up the tops, and Meena grabbed an armload of pants still on hangers and dumped them on the bed. A few minutes later, she worked up the nerve.
“Is everything OK with Sam? He seems upset.”
Tanvi sighed. “He is. Not with you. Sam has family problems. They crop up around this time of the year. He retreats into work. We used to try to cheer him up. Sam is so sweet, we realized it was painful for him to fake happiness. Now we leave food in his fridge and make sure he has clean clothes. He’ll come out of it. I’m glad he has Wally. That dog came to him when he needed someone the most.”
Meena was ashamed. She’d made their interaction about her without even considering that Sam had problems of his own. She hadn’t even asked how he was when she’d seen him. She might not have practice with close friendships, but she was an adult, one who knew that relationships were give-and-take. She’d never wanted to take, so she’d forgotten how to give. It was something she needed to correct. Try harder with.
“And Sabina?”
“She’s being Sabina.” Tanvi dismissed Meena’s concern. “Don’t read too much into it.”