Chapter Twenty-Three
Roshan had been studying the same notes for the past half hour. He couldn’t make sense of them. Likely because he was thinking about Malini’s request. His gaze drifted to the moonrise shell he and Nimita had found on the beach. The colors were a beautiful mix.
They gave him an idea. He picked up his phone and texted Nimita before he changed his mind.
Want to go to a painting class with me?
He waited. Then, finally, he saw just: ?
Malini wants me to have something to do that doesn’t involve her. I got the idea from the colors in the moonrise shell.
The three dots hovered. He watched intently. Willing her to forgive him and come.
Can’t make it.
He stared at his phone, willing the dots to reappear.
They did not.
He was on his own.
* * *
Roshan found a painting class for the next night. He hadn’t had the first idea how to find a passion like Malini wanted him to, so he’d looked up hobby suggestions online. Easy enough, he’d just try them until one clicked.
The process was not difficult. Mix the colors, follow the instructor as she painted strokes.
He followed her directions to a T. The project was a sunrise over the ocean.
Of course it was, because why not make his heart ache the whole time?
He had the colors, he had the sun and the ocean.
But something was off. He could not pin it down.
Roshan stepped out into the cool evening.
A night chill had set in, but the sky was clear.
He glanced up and immediately identified the Orion constellation.
No matter where he was in the world, he could always find the constellations in the night sky.
He opened the trunk of his car and placed his painting in there.
That had not gone quite as planned. He knew he did not need to excel to enjoy an activity, but the thing was, he hadn’t really enjoyed this at all. Maybe because he couldn’t look at even a painted sunset without longing for Nimita.
But Malini had asked him to do this. What choice did he have?
“So painting is not your thing,” Malini said after studying his sunset the next day. They were at her place, where she was recovering from her wrist surgery. Their parents were going to stay in town to help her out for a week or two while she recovered.
Roshan deflated. “Not really. It was completely stressful.”
Malini smirked. “Did Nimita come with you?”
He flushed. “No.”
Malini pressed her mouth into a line and furrowed her brow. “Keep trying. With this and with Nimita.”
Of course he would. He would take literally any scrap of time she would give him.
Malini chuckled.
“What?”
“Your face. You have it bad.”
“I do not.” He paused. “Have what bad?”
She shook her head at him. “You have never been this way over a woman before.”
That was because he’d never been in the presence of a woman like Nimita before. He shook his head and got up to go to work. “Bye. I’m leaving my masterpiece for you,” he called as he left.
His sister was still giggling as the door shut behind him.
* * *
Nimita entered the house after a walk on the beach.
The evening had cooled, and the night was clear.
She had walked along the beach, taking in the stars and the ocean.
There was little pleasure in it, because every star, every crash of the ocean made her think of Roshan. The ache in her chest persisted.
The kitchen light was still on when she returned. Reena was sitting on the sofa in the sunroom.
Just sitting. Nimita’s heart stopped.
“Did something else happen to Papa?” she said in way of greeting.
“Mm?” Reena turned to her, shook her head. “No. He’s fine. We should be able to bring him home tomorrow.”
Nimita relaxed.
“How was the beach?” Reena asked.
How had she known? “Fine.” She shrugged and put it aside. It was then that she noticed the two wineglasses on the table in front of Reena. “Night cap with Hiral?”
“No. I was hoping we could…” Reena shrugged one shoulder, an anxious look on her face.
Nimita tried to hide her surprise and quite frankly, her giddy joy that Reena wanted to simply hang with her. “Yes. Of course.” Nimita grabbed a bottle of white from the fridge and joined her sister on the sofa. She poured them each a glass and then curled up facing her sister.
“So what is going on with you and Roshan?” Reena asked.
Nimita shook her head. “Nothing.”
Reena frowned, her expression skeptical. “How is his sister?”
“She’s good. Surgery went well.”
“And when do you plan to forgive him?”
“What makes you think I’ll forgive him?” Nimita sipped her wine. “And what makes you think I need to forgive him?”
“Because your eyes go all soft when you talk about him. Not to mention, he would be a fool to let you go again.” Reena raised her eyebrows and finished her wine. “And I’m still your sister. I know you.”
Nimita shrugged. His words had hurt. She wondered if he had come to realize that his worth wasn’t tied to his work or even how well his sister was doing. His worth was…him. And even if she did forgive him, he still had no idea what she had done. What would happen when he found out?
* * *
Nimita was at the hospital first thing the next morning to check on her father and, hopefully, bring him home.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” She put down the carafe of chai that she had brought.
“I’m not sleeping. The nurse already took my vitals. You don’t want to know what that woman did to me.” He widened his eyes as if it had been a terrifying experience. He caught sight of the carafe. “Is that chai in there?”
“It is.”
He crinkled his eyes at her. When had he gotten so many laugh lines? “Did you make it in the pan?”
“Of course.” She stepped closer and checked his readings. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she poured them both chai in a paper cup.
“Fantastic. They said I get to come home today.”
Nimita sat down. “Fabulous. I’ll just work here until it’s time to go.”
“What are you working on?”
“I’m house hunting.”
“You don’t have a job yet,” her father pointed out.
“I’m working on that as well. And I can rent to start off.”
“Renting is throwing away money,” her father started.
“Hey.” A knock and familiar voice from the door. Saving her from the rental lecture.
She’d know that voice anywhere. Her heart raced.
“Ah! My gardening buddy!” her father exclaimed. His eyes and face lit up as Roshan walked in.
Roshan was in scrubs and sneakers and his white doctor coat—as stunning as ever. Her smile was automatic. She was sure her face revealed her feelings. “So Roshan has been coming by to water and feed the garden.” She looked at her dad. “You know, while you’ve been taking it easy in here.”
“I needed a break, what?” Her father shrugged one shoulder, and the mischief on his face made Nimita so joyful. “Much appreciated.” He nodded at his visitor. “You need chai.”
“It’s my pleasure, Uncle,” Roshan said, his voice deep and smooth. Pretty much how it sounded when it haunted her in her dreams. “I love gardening, so it’s a win-win.”
Nimita handed him a paper cup of chai. His fingers grazed hers as he took the cup. Of course they did. Why not have that torture along with everything else about him?
“Particularly so because if it was left to my daughters, all the plants would die.”
Nimita feigned indignation, dropping her jaw open. “That is not true…all the time.” She chuckled.
Her father rolled his eyes. “I could tell you stories…”
Roshan sat on the edge of her father’s bed, glancing at the monitors, sipping his chai. “Do tell, Uncle.”
“Oh, Papa should rest,” Nimita jumped in. No need for childhood stories.
“I am having chai with the young man,” her father said. “He gets a story. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be looking for a job and a house?”
Roshan snapped his head to her, eyebrows raised. “A house?”
She shrugged. “Reena doesn’t need me at her house forever. I’m looking for my own place. And Papa can come live with me.” She met Roshan’s eyes. Reena has done enough. “How was painting?”
“I’m not great at it.” He held her gaze, and she had to look away.
“You don’t have to be good to enjoy it.”
“I’ve heard that.” He did not seem convinced. “I’m trying pottery tomorrow night.”
That made her look back up, an eyebrow raised.
“Malini… Mali thinks I need a passion that is outside of work.” He paused, meeting her eyes. “Well, outside of her, really.”
“Mali is a smart woman,” Nimita said, a small smile fighting for space.
His expression was unreadable to her, and he did not ask her to join his class this time. Roshan turned back to her father. “You were telling me a story?”
Nimita groaned and got very interested in her chai.
Nimita was still thinking about Roshan’s visit that evening as she fed Naya while Reena finished up a late call. She had a good view of Roshan when he arrived in the back to tend to her father’s plants. Papa had needed an extra day in the hospital to stabilize.
Roshan was careful and efficient as he swiftly removed any dead leaves or branches, his fingers flying.
He then gently drew his fingers over the ripening vegetables to check that they were healthy and insect-free.
Lastly, he harvested what was ready, placing them in a basket that he had brought with him and then watered the plants.
His mouth moved the whole the time; she swore he was talking to them.
She missed those hands and arms. She missed him.
“Masi! Mum-mum!” Naya demanded as the spoon Nimita held for her drifted away from her mouth.
“Oops. Sorry, Beta.” Nimita turned her concentration back to Naya.
Roshan placed the basket by the back door and started to leave, without coming in the house. Nimita bolted for the back door.
“Hi,” Nimita called. “You want to clean up?” She hoped she sounded casual and not like she had been watching him the whole time. “How are the plants?” How are the plants? What was wrong with her?
“Still alive,” he said softly as he brushed past her to enter the kitchen. He carried the scent of fresh soil and, somehow, the beach.