Page 56 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

“Don’t be so formal, Tara,” I said, now emboldened by my mother’s approval. “Consider this your home.” Mom couldn’t hide a chuckle at my words.

A little later, Amar came downstairs, and Mom made him her special spiced chai. We sat at the table, the full house giving me a weird sense of déjà vu. Just a fleeting glimpse, like I’d been here before or maybe dreamed about this moment. Mom, Tara, and Amar bonding over morning tea, their laughter flooding the entire house in a soft, golden light.

We decided to get breakfast on our way back to our apartments. When Tara went upstairs to get ready, I continued chatting with Amar and Mom while Dad had his tea. His good mood from the previous night had carried over to this morning. Seeing Amar usually softened his remorseless heart.

But when the topic of our conversation veered toward relatives in India, I knew we were only moments away from Dad bringing up my wedding. I excused myself and sprinted up the stairs, two steps in a stride, and caught Tara scrambling away. She stopped and turned around when I reached the landing.

“Hey,” I said. She was still in my night clothes. “Did you need something?”

She quickly scanned the stairs behind me. Then, in a hushed voice, said, “I was looking for a bath towel but was too embarrassed to come ask for it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Mom asked me to put a set in your room last night, but I guess I forgot after I changed the sheets.”

She smiled. “No problem.”

“And you don’t need to hesitate. This is Amar’s home, as good as yours. Here…” I stepped over to the linen closet in the hallway and pulled out a set of fluffy towels.

“Bath, hand, and a washcloth.” I beamed.

She pressed her lips together. “Impressive!”

“Mom taught me that.”

“Hmm, I never would’ve guessed.”

We shared a quick chuckle before she approached and took the matching set from my hands. “I was beginning to think I made a mistake staying over, but you and Aunty made me feel right at home this morning.”

“Yes, Mom’s amazing that way,” I smiled back. “Hope you were comfortable last night.”

“Everything was perfect. And thank you for the toothbrush and toiletries.”

“Except I forgot the towels.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I forgive you.”

“Oh? That’s mighty generous of you.”

Her eyes creased with a heartfelt smile, then drifted downward to the towels.

“Tara, I’m sorry for being a jerk these past few days. I know you’re angry, but it was never my intention to upset you.”

She looked up and shook her head. “I don’t want to carry this anger any further, and I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have gone off on you in the presence of your family and Aarti.”

“We’re both hurting.”

She stepped away. “Yes, and it needs to stop. I’m happy for you, Sameer. Aarti is phenomenal, and she really likes you.”

I wondered if this was my moment to breach the confession that I dreaded. “I was wondering if we could talk about that, actually.”

She shuffled before setting her weight on her right foot. “I need to tell you something too.”

“Now?”

Her reluctant nod coincided with her phone ringing in the room. “It’s probably Sujit,” she said as her fingers curled tight around the soft cloth. “Let’s talk after the opening this Friday. I’ll be a nervous wreck until then.”

I smiled in reassurance. “Your art is the last thing you need to be nervous about. I wouldn’t have bought your painting unless it was worth it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know you lost all credibility when you bragged about buying that Selfia.” Then, with wide eyes and a gasp, continued, “Oh my god, promise me you won’t put mine in the same space where you hang that hack-job! Ah, my dignity just suffered a massive blow.”

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