“Is that where all our place’s stuff is?” He’d thought their home looked weirdly sparse, had wondered if she wanted to redecorate.
“Yeah.”
“Roshan. How could you possibly not know that your own sister was moving out of this house and trying to live on her own?” his father asked again.
Roshan had no answer. It was his job to know the answer. This was his purpose, and he had not only not known that Malini was moving out but had already moved out and told their parents. That she was having a party to celebrate this big move, and she hadn’t told him yet.
His father glared at him. “It must be the new girlfriend. Doesn’t she understand that you have family responsibilities? Is she distracting you?”
No. That couldn’t be true. Nimita was his one source of peace and happiness. It couldn’t be that he was distracted and failing in his responsibilities.
Could it?
Chapter Sixteen
Holi was the celebration of spring and love and happiness. Nimita had not celebrated, officially, in years. She had always been aware of the date and told herself that living the life she had wanted was celebration enough.
She had lied to herself.
Thiswas a Holi celebration.
A large tent on the back lawn of the mandhir. Bollywood music floating from speakers under the tent. The dhoom-dhoom-taka-ta of the live dhol player calling all to dance and make merry. The sun was bright, and the day was warm, and laughter resounded. People of all ages, children, teens and adults alike, all dressed in white, tossed various colored powders in the air or smeared the powder on each other with squeals of delight. Blue. Pink. Green. Some even had super soakers filled with colored water and were spraying people in various colors.
Delicious aromas hung in the air, promising spicy street food. Pav bhaji, pani puri, chaat and freshly fried samosa, all of it tempted the taste buds.
Her heart was lighter than it had been in years. Her father was here, though Reena had been skeptical of bringing him—what if he falls?Her sister and Hiral were here, too, of course, with Naya in tow.
The sun’s warmth was filling Nimita up. Not to mention, she could admit to herself that she wasn’t falling for Roshan, she had fallen. Hard. She was in love with him. The admission warmed and terrified her all at the same time.
She glanced across the tent as if sensing Roshan’s arrival. He was clad in white shorts and a white T-shirt, like everyone else. He ran his fingers through his hair as he cast his gaze over the crowd. He was looking for her. His brow furrowed as he took in over a hundred faces, and her stomach jumped, and her heart flittered (yes, that was actually what it did) as she watched him look for her. When he caught her eye, he broke out into that smile he reserved only for her. Her heart rate evened out, and she forced herself to stay put as he made his way to her.
This was Holi as Nimita had not experienced in a long time.
“Hey,” he said softly as he came to stand next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder, the greeting whispered in her ear.
“Hey,” she answered, her heart rate back to flittering. “The mandhir does a great Holi.”
He nodded. “Gets bigger every year.” He looked at her. “Feels different this year.”
She nodded. “Celebrating love.”
“We can celebrate love all on our own at my place,” he whispered in her ear.
She shook her head and took a small step away. “Dr. Dave. What would your patients say?”
Before he could respond, a little boy ran up and soaked him through with blue water from a super squirter. This assault was followed closely by a young boy throwing red powder from the safety of his father’s arms and cackling with joy. Roshan roared with laughter, tossing purple powder in the air above the toddler.
Nimita reached over and dusted the small boy with orange powder, which only made him giggle louder. His father chatted with Roshan for a few seconds, and then moved on.
“Malini looks so happy. Healthy,” Roshan said to her as they watched Malini and her friends chase each other with water balloons, colored water exploding whenever a balloon found its target. The day was hot, and those water balloons would feel great.
Malini threw a water balloon and hit a handsome young man in the chest. He looked familiar. Was that the lifeguard from the beach? The one who had lectured her? Red water soaked his white shirt. His grin said that there was nothing he would want more than Malini throwing water balloons at him. He threw a balloon at her, hitting her in the thigh. Purple water colored her white linen pants purple. Her exaggerated look of indignation was a thing of beauty.
“She told me her blood counts were normal in her last test,” Nimita said without losing her focus on her friend.
“Yes,” Roshan told her.
“That’s great.” Nimita beamed, turning to look at him. “Why don’t you look happy?”
