“Go buy some.”
“I’m not wearing any pants.”
“What? You went to work without pants? And you’re surprised you were let go?”
Reena rolled onto her back. “I was sneezing, so I worked from home. I videoconferenced into my layoff meeting. I have a blazer and blouse on, but below the waist is underwear only.”
“They let you go in a videoconference?What’s wrong with the world these days?”
“I know. And the clincher is I’m not even sneezing anymore.” She sat up. “I can put pants on. Samosas are worth pants. Meer, I wish you were here to take me to the Sparrow.”
The Sparrow was Amira and Reena’s favorite dive bar. They had spent countless hours drowning away their fucks over bourbon, beer, or gin, depending on the number of fucks they had to kill on a given day. Today felt like a gin night.
“I know, sweetie. I wish I could come, but I have a really early meeting tomorrow. Go without me. Don’t forget to wallow the next few days. Eat crap and drink whatever. Pick yourself up later.”
Reena nodded to herself. “Yeah. I could go alone.”
After hanging up with Amira, Reena looked out the window. It was pretty warm for early September, and the leaves were still vibrant and green. It didn’t seem right for it to look so cheery outside. But when had her life ever felt right? She peeled herself off the couch, slipped on a pair of yoga pants and flip-flops, and headed to her car.
At the Indian grocery store, she bought a half-dozen samosas, a bag of gram flour, and some starchy potatoes. Samosas were great, but when she was upset Reena craved potato bhajias the way others craved French fries. She suspected that later tonight, once this news really sunk in, she’d feel even worse than she did right now, and right now was pretty low. She’d need the bhajias. She dropped her groceries and her car home before walking to the Sparrow, since she was planning to take Amira’s advice and drink. Maybe heavily.
***
Reena believed strongly that everyone deserved a dive bar, and the Sparrow managed the unlikely balance between boneless comfort and indifferent hospitality that suited her perfectly. With walls covered in signs, stickers, graffiti, and knickknacks customers brought from their travels, the Sparrow made it easy for Reena to blend into the cluttered decor.
She sat alone at the bar, her forehead in one hand, her second gin gimlet in the other, and contemplated the cosmic purpose behind the cruel pranks the universe had been pulling on her since birth. Someone tapped her shoulder. She turned.
“Okay, so I guess you probably don’t hate me because you appear to be stalking me,” Nadim said.
Reena tilted her head in confusion. What the hell was he doing inherbar? She narrowed her eyes.
“If looks could kill,” he said, sitting heavily on the stool next to her. “You alone?” After she nodded, he put his elbows on the bar, making himself comfortable. He motioned to Steve, the longtime bartender, who immediately started pulling a draft beer, seeming to know what Nadim wanted. “Well, whether you hate me or not, I’m joining you. I need to keep a close eye to see if you’re glaring or scowling at me.”
She was doing neither, but she could bet her expression wasn’t all that welcoming. She was in no mood for forced niceties today.
His mood didn’t seem too hot, either. His suit was rumpled, and his tie was not just loosened but hanging off his neck undone. Doubtful his day had been as bad as hers, but Nadim looked and sounded as miserable as she felt.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I should ask you that. You following me? I told you I go to the pub after work.”
“But this is my bar.”
He glanced around at the busy decor. “There is a lot on the walls here, but I don’t see the words ‘this pub belongs to Reena Manji’ anywhere.” He turned back to her. “I’ve been coming here regularly for weeks and have never seen you here.”
“I know,” she agreed, dejected. “Amira left.”
“Who is Ami…never mind.” He took a long sip of his beer, almost emptying the glass before turning back to her. “Tough day at work?”
Reena bit her lip. She no longer had a work, but she couldn’t tell this man that. She didn’t trust him not to tell Dad. Especially since every third thing out of his mouth seemed to bedoes your father know?
Deflect and distract.“Youlook likeyou’vehad a rough day.”
“The utter worst.” He took another long sip of beer, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “But I can’t talk about it. Especially to you.”
Well. That would almost be offensive if she hadn’t just thought the same thing about him.
Reena drained her glass. How serendipitous. A drinking buddy who didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him. She didn’t care if he had a secret. She had enough secrets to fill all the beer kegs in the Sparrow.
