Page 39 of Thiago

“Thank you,” India finally said. “Growing up as an only child wasn’t all bad. I had my friend Kiara, who lived in the neighborhood. We were as close as sisters.” She laughed, as if remembering something from the past.

“Now you have to tell me why you laughed,” Thiago said.

“It’s silly.”

“I still want to know.”

She bit the bottom corner of her plump lip, which she often did when she was in deep thought.

“Like I said, Kiara and I were very close, and I used to spend a lot of time at her house. When I moved in with Grandma Selah, she went back to work, so I’m sure she was happy for the break from having to take care of me and help with homework when she got home. Anyway, Kiara and I were inseparable in school. Everyone knew if you saw one, you saw the other. I’m dark-skinned, but Kiara is light-skinned. The kids had a running joke, calling us salt and pepper.” She laughed again.

“The nickname never bothered you?”

India rested her chin on her fist, fully engaged in the conversation and forgetting her meal. “No, because we didn’t believe they were being malicious. We kind of embraced it. To be honest, we were like night and day. Kiara is funny and never really wanted to work. She shamelessly admits she went to college to find a husband. Meanwhile, I was the serious one, working hard and getting good grades.”

“Did you always want to be in marketing?” Thiago asked.

She cut a cucumber round in half. “I actually wanted to be an artist.”

“Really? I would have never guessed.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

She fell quiet, and he chose not to fill the silence because he suspected she wanted to say more.

India fiddled with the napkin on her lap. “The charcoal sketches in my apartment… I drew those.”

Thiago almost dropped his fork. “The three framed ones hanging on the south wall above your desk in the living room?”

She nodded, and he saw something he had never seen on her face before. She appeared bashful, as if embarrassed to admit her secret talent. “I—I have a ton more in a box in my closet.”

He leaned forward, completely enthralled by this revelation. He had assumed they had been done by a professional artist. “I had no idea.”

“I stopped drawing about two years ago,” she said, looking uncomfortable as she shifted in her chair.

He was about to ask why, but she continued talking.

“I’ve drawn all kinds of images. Landscapes, still life, portraits. I started out drawing people. The first one was a boy I had a crush on in middle school.” As she shared more, she seemed to relax.

“He must have been something special,” Thiago remarked.

“He was a decent guy.”

“Your first love,” Thiago guessed.

“My first crush,” India corrected.

The correction took him aback. “Don’t tell me you have never been in love.”

She paused, swirling her wine as she looked at him across the table. “This might surprise you, but I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. I’ve been in deep like. In lust. But in love?” She shook her head. “Never.”

“I’m surprised. You’re a beautiful woman. I imagined you fighting off male attention all your life.”

“Male attention has nothing to do with love,” India pointed out.

“True.”

“So what about you? Have you ever been in love?” she asked.