The phone logs Ruthie was required to keep of every incoming call at Horowitz and Stein probably made it seem as if Nisha and Kara were deeply involved in a relationship. Although Kara had never looked at the logs, she imagined the number of times Nisha called during the work day had to rival the number of calls her married colleagues got from their spouses. Most of the time, Nisha spent a solid minute apologizing for bothering Kara at the office, followed by a meandering discussion about something Barb had done and the same fears and concerns about Nan she’d already expressed a hundred times. Eventually she’d get to the point, which was usually something that could have been expressed in a single text.
Kara didn’t mind. Since their kiss that night at the coffee shop, Kara couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful Nisha was. She liked makeup and fashion, and the photos she staged for Instagram were the kind that professionals took, but there was nothing boastful or superficial about her. Kara was pretty sure Nisha didn’t even realize how gorgeous she was.
And not just on the outside. Nisha was a compassionate person, always worried that everyone else’s needs were being met. Like the massage she’d gotten Barb.
And, of course, there was the kiss itself. Maybe it was adolescent to fantasize about something as innocent as a kiss, but Kara found herself doing it all day. In the shower, she’d be washing her hair, and suddenly she’d think about how Nisha had tasted. During meetings, someone would be talking, and her mind would remember the tingling that had spread throughout her body when they’d finally connected.
Kara didn’t have Ruthie send Nisha to voice mail anymore, and some days she did as much talking as Nisha.
That particular day, the point of Nisha’s phone call was nothing Kara could have ever anticipated.
“So Maddie and Suni made me a profile on this new dating app, and they exchanged messages with someone, and now I have a date.”
“They what?”
“Maddie said it’s time for me to go out. And Suni said it’ll be like riding a bike.”
Kara wasn’t really sure where this conversation was going, but in principle she agreed with Maddie and Suni, even if their methods were controlling and she hated them for steering Nisha toward someone else.
It had only been a kiss, after all. She could hardly expect fidelity from one kiss.
“Sounds like something somebody else said a few months ago,” she teased, hoping her disappointment couldn’t be heard. “So are you going?”
“I told them I’d go,” Nisha said with hesitation, “if…”
“If what?”
“If my good friend Kara goes with me.”
“A threesome?”
“A double date.”
“But a double date means I’d have a date, too, and I don’t know anyone, and I’m not on any dating apps.”
Nisha had suggested a dating app the first night they met, Kara remembered, and if she had taken Nisha up on that suggestion, maybe she wouldn’t feel like a starstruck teenager getting crushed by her idol right now.
“Apparently, Maddie and Suni told my match that you’re new to Chicago, and the person said she would bring a single friend for you. I guess she thought it was a smart move if we each brought someone for safety or something. Anyway, she has a friend who’s free and interested in meeting an attorney. Suni found a photo I took of us and sent it, and I guess the friend thinks you’re attractive.”
“So I’m going out with someone who’s already seen a picture of me but I’ve never heard of until now?”
“Yeah.”
“What if she’s ugly? Do I get to see a picture of her?”
Nisha groaned. “What do you even care if it’s not a real date for you?”
Nisha had a point, but Kara didn’t like that Maddie, Suni, and random people off an app all colluding to decide who she’d get to date.
“Who says it’s not a real date for me?”
“Oh, right, of course. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you to get to know more people. So tell me what your type is, and I’ll make sure she’s a real looker.”
“‘A real looker’?” Kara laughed. “Who talks like that?”
“What’s your type?” Nisha asked again. “Skinny? Curvy? Covered in tattoos? Sophisticated older lady? Sad artsy type? Polyamorous with a zest for life?”
Creative types who are somehow both outgoing and introspective? Come to think of it, that described Hilary, too. They were also both deeply devoted to the people they loved and thoughtful in ways Kara didn’t know how to be. Caregivers. Although Kara had never seen it until now, Hilary and Nisha had a lot in common.
She turned her attention back to the conversation. “If there’s already a specific friend interested, I guess it doesn’t matter what my type is. What does your date look like? Is she your type?”
“I don’t think I have a type,” Nisha admitted. “Everyone I’ve dated has been totally different. I’ve dated tall and short, thin and overweight, white, not white. I don’t know.”
“You’re making a collection. What’s left?”
“Actually, I’ve never been with anyone blond, if you can believe that.”
At the moment she said it, Kara happened to catch her own reflection in window. She saw her light hair and wondered if Nisha had made the same connection.
“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “I need to get back to work, so I hope your date is the blonde of your dreams.”
“So you’re in?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. Meet me tomorrow night at Maddie and Suni’s after work, and we’ll go from there.”
“How will I know what to wear?”
Nisha sighed. “Because I’ll come over tonight and pick out outfits with you, duh.”
“If you’re coming over tonight, why did you bother calling now?”
“I think this could be a chance for me.” Nisha was serious now. “But I’m scared. I need you there to help me get back on my feet in the dating world, okay? I think…I think I might be ready to try to move on, but I don’t think I can do it without you.”
“I’ll be there. You know I’ll be there.”
* * *
When Kara got home from work, she started laying out clothes for Nisha to consider. Barb watched, eating neon orange cheese balls directly out of the can.
“Awfully nice clothes for a pizza and TV night.”
“Did we have plans to watch something specific?”
“Not really. So you don’t have to feel bad about blowing me off.”
“I’m not blowing you off,” Kara began, but Barb forestalled her with a wave of her hand.
“It’s fine. I’ll ask Nisha if she’s in the mood for veggie lovers or vegan cheese. It’s hardly the same as sausage or pepperoni, but I guess it’ll have to do.”
Kara’s face went hot.
“Oh,” Barb realized. “I see.”
“It’s not even tonight. She’s coming over to help me pick clothes. We can all have pizza tonight if you want. The clothes are for when we go out tomorrow.”
“And leave me by myself. I guess it doesn’t matter too much, you know, what with me being dead and all.”
“Her friends set it up, and she didn’t know how to back out, so I said I’d go along, too. We won’t even be out late. How about if I bring dessert home?”
“And ruin this figure?” Barb patted her bulging gut. “You and Nisha have fun, and don’t do anything I would.”
Kara put a hand on Barb’s shoulder. As it was every time she touched Barb, it took a second to adjust to skin that was neither hot nor cold, neither clammy nor dry. “Are you sure? I can cancel. Nisha’s capable of going on a date without me.” She dropped the striped shirt she was holding. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“It’s not a bad idea.” Barb tipped the empty cheese ball container up to her mouth and gulped down the remaining crumbs. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “These taste different than they used to. They change the recipe or something?” She put the plastic lid on the canister and tossed it in the direction of the trash can. It didn’t make it, and she made no move to pick it up.
Kara suppressed a growl and put the can properly in the trash. “Why don’t you think it’s a bad idea?” she asked. “You think the idea of four queer women going out together is a good idea? Is that something you used to do? Maybe with Nan and Rosalind and Sonia?”
“Oh, boy, you really suck at asking questions, you know that? On TV the attorneys go right in for the kill. They ask a question, and the guy on the witness stand cracks, and he confesses to everything, and they yell, ‘No further questions, Your Honor!’ And the credits roll.”
“Barb, I work in contract law.”
Kara knew Barb’s tangent was intended to distract from the main issue, which was Kara’s admittedly clumsy attempt to find out more about what had gone on in Barb’s life before she died. Barb smiled at herself, proud of her distraction.
“I think something real good is gonna come out of this,” Barb said. “Something really big indeed.”
* * *
Nisha said the booties didn’t work with the skirt and tights because they made her legs look stumpy. She liked the heels, but they were impractical with all the snow outside. The flat knee-high boots were practical, but apparently they were all wrong for the outfit. And now she was looking at a pair of nondescript black flats.
“These make me look like I’ve given up on life. Maybe it’s not the shoes that are the problem. Maybe I should change my outfit.”
Kara let out a long, slow breath, looking to the ceiling for salvation. “You already texted me your outfit. You had it planned yesterday.”
Nisha unzipped her skirt and kicked it off. “This is a pants situation, clearly.”
“I thought the whole point was that we dressed—what was the expression you used? Not coordinating but—”
“Stylistically compatible.” Nisha held up a pair of pants and considered them in the mirror. “I can’t wear these. What was I thinking? These are just plain dumpy.”
“Okay, that’s it.” Kara got to her feet. “You picked out my outfit. I’m picking out yours.”
She really had no clue what she was doing, but somebody had to take charge of the situation.
Nisha’s closet was jammed tight with clothes, too many to look through quickly. Kara reached for a random hanger and pulled out a navy blue dress with white dots and ruffles around the neck. She couldn’t imagine Nisha wearing it, and anyway it looked like it was for summer. Nisha looked good in rich colors, like those burgundy pants she’d been wearing the first night they met.
Kara grabbed another dress at random. It was mustard yellow with a split neck and a drawstring waist. Nisha would look good in the color. As for the style, who cared? Kara was hungry, and she knew Nisha wouldn’t be upset if she made them late because she didn’t like being impolite.
“This is the one. Take your shirt off, put this on, let’s go.”
Nisha made a face as she took the hanger.
Kara turned her back to give her a sense of privacy while she changed.
Shoes. Even if Nisha accepted the dress, they’d spend twenty more minutes picking out shoes to go with it. Kara reached down to the shoe rack. Heels? No, heels in the snow seemed wrong. She grabbed the brown booties Nisha had rejected earlier.
“And these.”
Nisha made another face of displeasure but dutifully put them on. She looked good in the dress and shoes, but something was missing. Kara remembered the day in the park when the wind had ruffled Nisha’s earrings.
She moved behind Nisha and gathered her hair into a low side ponytail. “Like this, with your jade earrings. What do you think?”
As they looked at their reflections in the mirror, Kara was eager to hear whether Nisha approved. If she didn’t, Kara was going to hustle her out the door anyway, so they could make their reservation on time. But she’d be disappointed she wasn’t better able to pick something out, considering how well Nisha had chosen Kara’s outfit.
But Nisha smiled. “I never would have put this together, but it looks really good.”
“You always look good,” Kara said, returning the smile.
“Okay, let me fuss with it, and I’ll be out in a second. Will you wait in the living room?”
“You won’t change again? Because it’s time to go.”
“I promise. I just need to fix my hair and makeup.”
As Kara went back to the living room to wait, she could feel herself smiling. As frustrating as it was that Nisha took forever to get ready, Kara enjoyed being able to participate. If someone was able to pick out an outfit for you, it was a sign they knew you well, wasn’t it? When Nisha picked Kara’s clothes, she brought the best version of Kara out, a version Kara wanted to be but didn’t know how to find on her own. She hoped she had reciprocated.
When Nisha came out, her side ponytail was smoothed and coiffed, and her dress was accessorized with a brown belt. She was wearing heavier makeup, her eyelashes thick and long and her lips plumped with a nearly nude shade of lip gloss.
Maddie praised what Nisha called her “final look,” but Kara was too awestruck to talk. She looked like a model. She looked like a movie star. She looked like someone was about to become a very lucky person to have such a kind, amazing person as their date.
Kara didn’t feel as excited about dinner anymore.
“It’s about time,” Sunita said drily.
Nisha gave a coy smile that put Kara’s stomach in a knot. “Don’t wait up!”
* * *
The restaurant in Roscoe Village was bustling, and they had to cluster in the entryway while servers moved around them and more diners kept pushing their way in the door. It wasn’t the best environment for meeting new people, and when their dates, Sarah and Jill, arrived, they could only manage half-waves in the crowd. To make room for them, Nisha leaned back against Kara, who was pressed tight against a window. She put a hand on Nisha’s hip to warn her not to step on her toes.
“Which one’s mine?” she murmured into Nisha’s hair. It smelled like oranges and coconut.
“Jill.” Nisha craned her head to the side to be heard, her breath tickling Kara’s nose.
Jill heard her name and raised her eyebrows in expectation. Kara gave her a polite smile. Jill was what Kara would call a high maintenance super-femme. Although it was winter in Illinois, she was tan, and not from having recently been in the tropics, if the slight orange cast was any indication. She had thick fake eyelashes that feathered out from her brown eyes and accentuated her high cheekbones. Her lips were filled with collagen, the kind of lips that always looked like they’d been stung by a bee and made Kara feel squeamish to look at. Her skin was flawless, but that was because it was paved in foundation and concealer. Nisha wore a lot of makeup, but Kara could never actually see the layers of it caked into her skin like Jill’s. She looked like she was trying too hard. She looked too artificial. She didn’t do anything for Kara.
When the hostess called Nisha’s name, the four of them moved like a less than enthusiastic conga line through the crowded restaurant and to their table. Kara and Nisha accidentally sat opposite each other, but Jill and Sarah took the two empty chairs before Kara could move. Realizing their mistake, Nisha raised her eyebrows across the table at Kara, who shrugged back at her. This way, she could still get to look at Nisha. She was way less fake-and-bake, less injected lips, less hair product. Much nicer to look at over dinner.
Sarah suggested ordering a bottle of wine because it would be cheaper than each of them ordering two glasses individually. A bottle might be more practical, but Kara didn’t like Nisha’s date going for something just because it was cheaper. Or assuming everyone was going to drink two glasses. Something about her immediately put Kara on alert.
Jill, by contrast, readily agreed to the wine suggestion. She seemed like one of those self-proclaimed “social drinkers,” who swore they never drank, except when they were out, which was all the damn time. And when they were out, all the damn time, they drank too much. She’d rarely met people like that in Wisconsin. Most people born and raised in Wisconsin freely acknowledged how much they drank because beer was such a part of the culture that there wasn’t a stigma against it, and that meant they were experienced enough to be able to hold themselves together. Kara voted Jill most likely to get wasted.
Nisha hesitated at the bottle suggestion before agreeing.
Kara supposed if they ordered a bottle, she didn’t have to pick out her own wine or face the embarrassment of asking Nisha to do it for her.
“Whatever you decide is fine with me,” she said to Sarah. Next to her, Jill beamed at her agreeability.
The appetizer also caused a group discussion that ended in Kara saying, “Whatever you decide is fine.” The pretend date was quickly turning into a battleground, and she was losing turf inch by inch. She didn’t join in the eating of the caramelized onion and wild mushroom crostini, and she internally groused the whole time about how she’d no doubt be expected to cough up for it anyway. Nisha ate. Delicately. Like she was worried about cramming the whole thing in her mouth, the way Sarah did, or getting crumbs everywhere, which Jill did. There really wasn’t a way to eat flaky toast without looking a little like an ass. Unless you were Nisha, apparently.
Sarah suggested splitting two entrees, and that was a line too far.
“It might be easiest if we each order our own,” Kara said, hoping she sounded disarming. “That way, we don’t have to waste a lot of time trying to agree on something.”
That was what she said aloud. The internal dialogue was something like, Order your own damn meal, you cheapskate. Are you afraid of eating?
Over their entrees, the conversation covered mundane topics: work (Jill managed a specialty pet boutique on Armitage), the weather (Sarah had heard more snow was coming), and then the news (they all agreed the latest military intervention in the Middle East was cause for concern, but to Kara’s annoyance no one seemed capable of saying anything more specific). When Sarah asked Jill to talk more about all-natural dog birthday cakes, Kara excused herself to the restroom.
Nisha came in while she was washing her hands. “Jill’s pretty.”
“She’s all right.”
Nisha leaned against the countertop near Kara. “Sarah’s not bad. She’s kind of taking the lead and making everything easy.”
If you find overbearing freaks attractive. “Uh-huh.”
“What do you think we should do after we get the check? Should we go for coffee or something?”
This night was important to Nisha. If Kara’s sour mood spoiled it, that wouldn’t be fair to her. She gave Nisha a little hip-check. “Depends on what you want. You want to split up, so you can have time alone with Sarah?”
Nisha’s eyes grew in size. “Kara!”
“You said she wasn’t bad.”
Nisha’s cheeks were turning pink. “I think my standard is a little higher than ‘not bad.’ Unless you wanted time with Jill?”
Kara was too stupefied by the suggestion to respond. Jill was awful. In no universe did she want time alone with Jill.
Nisha’s jewelry reflected the light in the bathroom. Her eyes were wide, her eyebrows raised. Everything about how stunning she looked, how expectant, made Kara want to kiss her again. To feel the touch of Nisha’s silken lips against her own.
As she looked at her, Kara knew the problem wasn’t Jill. It was that Jill wasn’t Nisha.
But Nisha was trying to grow in new directions. She’d agreed to this date to try to branch out in her social life. She wanted to meet new people and get back into the world. Kara cared too much for her to hold her back.
“We should probably get back to the table.”
* * *
After the server took their plates away, Sarah suggested they go for coffee at a place around the corner, and Jill agreed enthusiastically. She looked to Kara for confirmation.
“I’m pretty beat. I think I’m going home.” Jill gave a little pout, and Kara added, “I have a client meeting at eight tomorrow morning.”
She pretended not to notice the disappointment etched on Jill’s face, which wasn’t hard to do when Jill beamed at Sarah as they gathered their coats.
“I’m going home, too,” Nisha said.
Sarah and Jill seemed to have forgotten Nisha was there. They were already talking to each other and heading for the door.
“It was very nice meeting you!” she called after them. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
Only Nisha could be utterly blown off and still finish the night with a touch of class.
She turned to Kara. “Can you believe that?”
She reached for her coat, but Kara suggested they wait a minute in case Sarah and Jill were loitering on the sidewalk.
When they finally went outside, they ran past the coffee shop, squatting down below the window in case Sarah and Jill saw them together. At the corner, they crashed into each other and exploded with laughter.
“That was the worst date ever!” Nisha said. “Is that what dating’s like?”
“I sincerely hope not. That was so bad!”
“Do you think—I mean, am I crazy, or did they seem more interested in each other than us?”
“You weren’t imagining it.”
“But that’s weird, right? They were friends who agreed to go out with other people. Why would they do that if they were really interested in each other?”
Kara shrugged. Why had she agreed to go on this dumb date? To make Nisha happy because she couldn’t tell Nisha what she really felt, since they wanted different things. Maybe it was the same for Sarah and Jill.
“I’m going to spy on them,” Nisha announced.
Kara whispered her name several times to come back, but Nisha marched, head up this time, toward the bright windows of the coffee shop and looked inside. She gasped.
“What?” Kara called. “What do you see?”
“Oh, shit!” Nisha ducked and came running back. She grabbed Kara’s hand and pulled her around the corner, flattening them against the brick exterior of a building. She laughed again.
“What? Tell me!”
“Sarah was wiping whipped cream off Jill’s lip, but then she saw me and starting coming toward the door.”
Something bubbled up inside Kara and came rushing out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. She doubled over, holding her side, struggling for breath.
“Breathe,” Nisha said through her own laughter. She rubbed a gloved hand on Kara’s back.
“Worst. Date. Ever.”
“Worse than the time we tried to have brunch and ended up manifesting a ghost?”
Kara nearly collapsed onto her knees then. Her face was hot, and her laughter was coming out in loud guffaws.
Nisha was laughing, too, but not nearly as hard. She held out a hand to steady Kara, and in another fit of laughs, Kara slipped on some ice. She tumbled to the sidewalk, pulling Nisha with her.
They lay there stunned for a few seconds.
“You know what?” Kara said as she got up and dusted the salt off her pants. “I take it back. This wasn’t the worst date ever.” She reached out a hand to help Nisha up, but once Nisha was on her feet, she didn’t let go. “It’s probably one of the most memorable in my life.”
Kara’s words were serious now, directed at Nisha. Whatever had happened with Sarah and Jill, however dreadful their dinner together had been, the thing that mattered the most was that Kara had gone through the experience with Nisha.
And the terrible brunch that ended up causing the mayhem that was Barb? Another experience she’d gone through with Nisha.
“Kara,” Nisha murmured, closing the distance between them. “I—”
“I know,” Kara said, and their lips found each other.
They kissed a few gentle, sensuous times before their lips parted and their tongues entwined. Despite all the ways Nisha could be tentative in conversation, she kissed with precision and intent. It was soft and meaningful, and it built a fire in Kara’s belly log by log until it was roaring hot. She and Nisha pressed against each other, trading little moans.
It went on and on, until Kara couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled away and cupped Nisha’s face, staring deep into those endless eyes of hers.
“Would you like to come home with me?”
And Nisha nodded.