“Saturday.”
“Oh.” Dyma hesitated, and Pavani said, “What?”
“Well … Owen has a bye this week, and he’s coming up to spend the weekend. Well, to spend Saturday, mainly, because I have to work Friday night and Sunday morning.”
“Can’t you trade with somebody else or something?”
“Nope. I’m on thin ice already with my supervisor. I missed my Monday shift last week because of going home. I had to show the picture of my baby brother in his cast to get her not to fire me. I’m telling you, that picture isgolden.I’m considering just making it my permanent get-out-of-jail-free card. Need more time to study for the final? Baby in cast. Getting a traffic ticket? Baby in cast. But anyway—Saturday. Owen’s taking me to do the tourist things, because I’ve never done any of them. Pike Place Market. The Space Needle. And the best one—the Museum of Flight.” She sighed. “I can’t wait.”
“For Owen?” Pavani asked. “Or the museum?”
Dyma laughed. “For both.” She wanted to add something like,He’s so great. You cannot imagine how great he is,except that would be nauseating to Pavani, so—no.
“You realize,” Pavani said, “that nobody else thinks the Museum of Flight is exciting. I went there about six times on field trips. It’sairplanes.”
“I know,” Dyma said. “Awesome, right? Don’t you feel that way about the Museum of Bioengineering?Isthere a Museum of Bioengineering?”
“No,” Pavani said. “And no.”
“Not excited about bioengineering, huh?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. Anyway.” Pavani put her palms on the table. “Do I tell my mom you can’t come to dinner?”
Dyma groaned. “Why do things have to be sohard?I want to move in with you. I do. I just realized how much, when the escape hatch opened. Can I get a rain check, possibly? Do it another week? Or could I … I don’t know, offer to take them—and you, of course—out with Owen and me instead? He’s got reservations at someplace called Canlis. Would that be weird?”
Pavani eyed her with astonishment. “Seriously. That’s your solution. Are you on the autism spectrum? I’m not judging. I’m just asking.”
“What? No. I don’t think so, anyway. I’m just odd. Delightfully odd, hopefully.”
“Because,” Pavani went on, “that would beextremelyweird. EvenIcan see that, and I’m not exactly the Dalai Lama. That’s one of the most expensive restaurants in Seattle. My parents are supposed to be doingyouthe favor, which you’d be gratefully receiving, because you’re of lower stature. You just knocked that ideaout.”
“Oh. See, this is the kind of thing my mom gets and I don’t. Emotional intelligence, anyone? Oh, well. So what do we do?”
Pavani considered. “I think I tell my mom that Owen’s visiting, and see what happens. By the way—tell me he’s staying in a hotel.”
“What, he’s in my loft bed with me? He weighs three hundred sevenpounds.I’m pretty sure we’d collapse it. And hello? Roommates? Who hate me? Also—purity.”
Did she feel guilty about lying? A little bit.
But not that much.
* * *
Owen had donea fair number of things in his life, including eating a whole lot of different kinds of food with his teammates. There was a wide, wide world beyond Wyoming. He’d even had a vegetarian Indian dinner before, thanks to Dyma. He’d never had one like this, though. Flaky, buttery flatbread dipped into a concoction of yellow lentils that tasted a whole lot better than that sounded. Cauliflower curry. Incredibly spicy fried eggplant. Something with garbanzo beans. And more.
“This is really something, Mrs. Banerjee,” he told Pavani’s mother. “This potato fritter thing ..”
“Aloo tikki,” she said. “Have some more.” Even though he’d already had thirds. “Please. Eat.”
“You’ll want leftovers,” he said. Everybody was watching him like it was some kind of a hot-dog-eating contest, and they couldn’t believe that one guy had eaten twenty-four of them.
“No,” she said. “Eat. Enjoy.” So he did, because, well … there it all was.
Dyma said, “I totally want to learn how to cook all this. This is amazing.”
Owen said, “Oh, yeah. That’s a great idea.” And Mrs. Banerjee smiled.
“You’re saying that because you cook better than I do now, Owen,” Dyma said, “and you think I need to up my game. Do you know how, Pavani?”