excused himself to work in the second bedroom. Later he’d only come to bed when Janya was sure to be sleeping. Although she wasn’t asleep, she’d made certain to let him think he had gauged correctly.
Tonight he arrived home on time once again. He looked tired when he walked in, and tired when they said their prayers. She dredged up enough courtesy to ask him about his day, although she didn’t follow with more questions. She served a simple supper, having talked herself out of telling him to feed himself, and she refused his help afterward when he offered to assist with cleaning the kitchen.
“I assume you will be working again?” she asked, as she picked up their plates.
“I thought, perhaps, you might like to go for a walk.”
For a moment she thought she had grown so used to English that her command of her native tongue—which Rishi used whenever they were home alone—had declined. Surely there must be an explanation for what she thought she had heard.
“Did you say a walk?” she asked, when she realized he was waiting for her answer.
“It seems cooler tonight. And the humidity is lower.”
She thought about all the things that could be accomplished on walks and settled on the one that seemed most likely. Rishi had something to tell her, and he wanted to do it where she would be forced to listen.
“I must clean up,” she said, turning away.
“Leave it for later, Janya. I told you I would help. But let’s do it after we come back. The sun is setting. I rarely get to see it.”
She nearly suggested he cut a new window in the west wall of his office, since that was where he spent most evenings. Except that was apparently no longer true, and she was afraid tonight he wanted to tell her why.
And didn’t she need to know, so she could make plans for her future?
“I will soak the dishes.” There was only resignation in her voice.
“Good. We can walk along the beach.”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“I’ll meet you on the patio.”
She changed into pants and a long-sleeved shirt, both of the lightest cotton. She fastened her hair back from her face with barrettes but didn’t bother with jewelry or refreshing her makeup. Nothing she did seemed to entice Rishi. She was tired of trying.
“You look lovely,” he said when she joined him.
His response sounded perfunctory, the kind of thing husbands learn to say early in a marriage to keep their homes and lives peaceful. She nodded, but she didn’t smile.
“Shall we walk?”
They strolled down the road, then took the closest path to the beach. The public beach at the other end of the key was sugar sand perfection. This end, some of which Tracy owned, had never been improved and was still the way nature had created it. The beach itself was uneven here. There were places where they could walk abreast and places where single file worked better. They skirted obstacles, the skeletons of boats that had washed up on shore, tree trunks, piles of shells, tangled lines and old tackle boxes abandoned by fishermen. Fiddler crabs darted along the waterline, and seagulls and terns flew low, searching for their last morsels until morning.
The sun was sinking rapidly now on a coral-streaked horizon. Janya was always surprised that the sun took so many hours to sweep across the sky, then rushed through its dramatic exit like a Shakespearean novice, racing through his final monologue as he launched himself toward the wings and his dressing room.
“The sand looks clean and soft here,” Rishi said, after they had walked a distance in silence. “Shall we sit?”
Janya lowered herself to the ground and pulled her knees toward her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Rishi sat beside her.
“Have you heard from Yash?” he asked.
Yash was Janya’s younger brother, the one member of her family who had stood beside her at a time of great difficulty in her life.
“He called several nights ago,” Janya said. “He is definitely going to start classes at the University of South Florida in the fall. He was very excited.”
“You didn’t tell me.” He sounded perplexed.
“You weren’t home.”
“You should have called me at work.”
She glanced at him. “Should I have? I will remember that. From now on, when I have important news, I won’t wait to share it with you in person, since that time might never come. I will call you at work and ask your assistant to relay the message.”