It feels uncharitable to think that way, especially since Gracie is pretty funny and sweet. But looking around Meera’s cramped two-bedroom Tarrytown condo—every surface crowded with unfolded laundry and Barbie dolls and Gracie’s art projects from school—Talia doesn’t feel envy. She may be thirty-one and childless, but she knows when it happens for her, it’s going to happen the right way.
On the couch next to Talia, Gracie watches cartoons while upside down, her bare feet dangling over the back of the sofa and her head grazing the carpet. She’s still in her pajamas, though Meera has asked her three times already to get dressed. Talia wasn’t allowed to watch TV growing up, but she can at least identify this character on the screen as SpongeBob SquarePants.
“Why don’t you want to go to your dad’s?” Talia asks.
Gracie’s eyes don’t leave the screen. “Because his house is stupid, and every meal has to be GGB.”
“We don’t say ‘stupid,’” calls Meera from the bathroom, where she’s dragging a mascara wand through her eyelashes.
“What’s ‘GGB’?”
“Stupid,” Gracie mutters.
Meera ignores this. “Grain, green, and bean,” she tells Talia. “It’s her dad’s requirement for all meals. Hari’s girlfriend is a vegan now, apparently.”
“I see.” Talia kicks off her flip-flops and swivels her body around so that, like Gracie, her legs hang over the back of the sofa and her hair grazes the carpet. Blood rushes to her skull, but Gracie giggles, delighted to find Talia’s head hanging beside hers.
“I don’t like beans,” she whispers to Talia.
“I don’t like beans either,” Talia whispers back. “They make me fart.”
Gracie laughs again, her big brown eyes crinkling in the corners.
“Do you like your dad’s girlfriend?”
“She’s okay.” Gracie turns her attention back to the TV screen. “I’d rather hang out with you and Mom.”
From upside down, Talia watches Meera frown into the bathroom mirror. She hates seeing her friend stress.
“You know what’s cool about your dad’s house, though?” she asks Gracie.
“What?”
“Marty lives there, and you get to spend the next two days playing with him.”
She doesn’t respond, but Talia can tell Gracie is trying not to smile; she loves her new dachshund puppy.
“And I bet Marty will eat all of your beans for you, even if they make him a little gassy.”
“He will.” Gracie nods, her dark ponytail bobbing with her.
“Your dad will probably be here soon to pick you up. Want me to help you pick out an outfit? I bet he’ll have Marty with him.”
“That’s okay.” Gracie plants her hands on the carpet and performs an effortless backbend kickover off the sofa. Talia can’t really remember being seven, but she feels certain she could never move her body like that.
With some struggle, she gets herself upright again on the sofa, and Meera joins her. Together they watch as Gracie disappears behind her bedroom door.
“I don’t know how you did that, but thank you,” she says.
“Anytime,” Talia replies, and she means it. She’s good with kids, and it feels nice to have this skill, one she knows men appreciate. Of course, she knows not to seem too interested in children, lest a guy think she’s desperate to procreate. Dating means having to navigate a thousand contradictions, but if Talia’s instincts are right (which they usually are), she’ll never have to go on another first date again.
After Meera’s ex arrives to pick up Gracie, she and Talia head to brunch at Maudie’s Café in Westlake, which Meera claims is the best Maudie’s location. Personally, Talia doesn’t love the idea of breakfast tacos, but there are few things Meera likes about Austin, and Tex-Mex is one of them. For her best friend, Talia is willing to stomach a plate of greasy chorizomigas.
The host sets them up on the patio facing the parking lot, where they perch on wobbly metal chairs and bake in the heat of exhaust fumes and the already-hot sun. Struggling to peel her laminated menu off the table, Meera wrinkles her nose.
“I thought you loved Maudie’s,” Talia says, teasing.
“I do. Just not between the months of April and October.”
