Page 118 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

“Nothing much. I told him. We talked. He said he was sorry about Mumma and asked what I was going to do now. I told him I’d keep in touch over email. For the first time, I felt something in my stomach when he looked at me. Have you had that feeling?”

“Yes.” I smiled. “But FYI, I’ll be monitoring all your emails until you’re eighteen, young lady.”

“What? Absolutely not! I’ll never give you my password.”

“You don’t need to. I have hacker friends.” I didn’t.

She pouted. “You are worse than Mumma.”

Chapter 35

Tara

Sameer called early that morning, before I woke up. His text said he was coming home in two days. Can’t wait to see you too, I texted back.

Two days felt like a week. The paintings had been appraised and cataloged. The exhibits had been shortlisted. The documentation was complete. As I went through the list of actions in my planner, I realized I had worked ahead of my timeline. I scheduled a meeting with Dr. Hadden to discuss prospects for a future collaboration. I had previously emailed other galleries and museums in the region about possible collaborations and consultation gigs, and I was in conversation with a private collector about appraising his collection. I tried to keep busy as I waited for Sameer’s return.

Late afternoon two days later, I was at work when I got his text, Just landed. Coming directly to yours.

I packed up for the day to return home. Should I make dinner? I texted.

No, was his brief reply.

I entered my apartment, wringing my clammy hands. I was nervous about meeting Riya. Sameer had been worried about my acceptance of Riya, but what if she disliked me? Would it create a rift between Sameer and me? Had he given it any thought?

About an hour later, the doorbell rang. I was still in my work clothes, a silk blouse and flowy trousers, but I had refreshed my lipstick before rushing to the door. With a wide, albeit nervous, smile, I opened the door and saw Sameer with a young girl.

“Tara,” he said, resting his hands on the girl’s shoulders. “I want you to meet someone very special.”

I looked at her. She looked back at me with Sameer’s eyes, and my heart sank at the thought of her as a motherless child.

“This is my sister, Riya. Riya, this is Tara, the love of my life.”

She gave me a tired smile. “He could not stop talking about you. But you are as pretty as he said.”

“Hello, Riya. It’s wonderful to meet you. Is it alright to give you a hug?”

She rushed to me with open arms, hugged me, and began crying. “Is she alright?” I mouthed to Sameer.

He nodded with a tired smile on his face.

“Well, Tara, I hope you’re ready. We are going to my parents’. We’re going to get Riya settled there, then have some amazing food cooked by Durgaben. What do you say?”

“Give me a few minutes to change?” I said, asking them to take a seat.

“Hey, pack an overnight bag, just in case,” Sameer called as I started toward the bedroom.

A few minutes later, I walked out with them in a cool summer dress, a small bag in my hand.

“I’m so tired,” Riya said from the backseat of Sameer’s car.

“It will be a while before we reach the house. Why don’t you take a nap?” Sameer suggested as we pulled out of the garage.

“I can’t. I’m so nervous!” She looked at me. “I’m meeting my father and Sameer’s mother for the first time.”

I merely nodded. I didn’t want to offer any false hope.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Sameer looked at her in the rearview mirror. “That is your home now. You can be as bossy and boisterous as you want. I’ve got your back.”

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