“You’re going to keep this from them?”

“I cannot deal with their crap right now. Khizar makes partner and I get let go. Dad’s still on me that I’m not a manager. I can’t tell them I’m unemployed.” She sat up and wiped her eyes. “It’ll be fine. It’s always fine. I can brush myself off and get back up again.”

“Yeah, you can,” Amira said softly. “You’re the strongest person I know. But this is blatantly unfair.”

Unfair. When had her life ever been fair? She inhaled deeply.

“Ugh. I need comfort food. Why don’t I have any samosas?”

“Go buy some.”

“I’m not wearing any pants.”

“What? You went to work without pants? And you’re surprised you were let go?”

Reena rolled onto her back. “I was sneezing, so I worked from home. I videoconferenced into my layoff meeting. I have a blazer and blouse on, but below the waist is underwear only.”

“They let you go in a videoconference? What’s wrong with the world these days?”

“I know. And the clincher is I’m not even sneezing anymore.” She sat up. “I can put pants on. Samosas are worth pants. Meer, I wish you were here to take me to the Sparrow.”

The Sparrow was Amira and Reena’s favorite dive bar. They had spent countless hours drowning away their fucks over bourbon, beer, or gin, depending on the number of fucks they had to kill on a given day. Today felt like a gin night.

“I know, sweetie. I wish I could come, but I have a really early meeting tomorrow. Go without me. Don’t forget to wallow the next few days. Eat crap and drink whatever. Pick yourself up later.”

Reena nodded to herself. “Yeah. I could go alone.”

After hanging up with Amira, Reena looked out the window. It was pretty warm for early September, and the leaves were still vibrant and green. It didn’t seem right for it to look so cheery outside. But when had her life ever felt right? She peeled herself off the couch, slipped on a pair of yoga pants and flip-flops, and headed to her car.

At the Indian grocery store, she bought a half-dozen samosas, a bag of gram flour, and some starchy potatoes. Samosas were great, but when she was upset Reena craved potato bhajias the way others craved French fries. She suspected that later tonight, once this news really sunk in, she’d feel even worse than she did right now, and right now was pretty low. She’d need the bhajias. She dropped her groceries and her car home before walking to the Sparrow, since she was planning to take Amira’s advice and drink. Maybe heavily.

Reena believed strongly that everyone deserved a dive bar, and the Sparrow managed the unlikely balance between boneless comfort and indifferent hospitality that suited her perfectly. With walls covered in signs, stickers, graffiti, and knickknacks customers brought from their travels, the Sparrow made it easy for Reena to blend into the cluttered decor.