I hated Girishji for ruining every Sunday for Mohini and me. I wished he had a large family of three sisters and four brothers. Then he and Nimita could visit all of them, and our turn would come only once every two months or so. I loved Nimita, but she was married now and always came with Girishji. Just because she was pregnant didn’t mean she had to spend every Sunday here, did it? And if she did, couldn’t she leave him behind? Just once, couldn’t she and Girishji sleep late and not show up?

On Sundays we didn’t eat our lunch until two in the afternoon. And then we had to be quiet because Pappa rested on one bed and Girishji on the other. Chiraj and Vivek played cards on the apartment building’s stairwell landing between the second and third floors. Our servant, Naran, cleaned the dishes in the kitchen, and so the only place left for us was the living room. Mummy never rested during the day. As she sat and embroidered a sari border, Nimita took a nap on the divan, and Mohini read a novel by Munshi, Meghani, or Dhumketu. Unlike Mohini, I could never read a book ten times over, even if it was about kings, queens, valiant warriors, and beautiful temple dancers.

So in the afternoon I would study with half a mind on my homework and half a mind on summer and the swimming pool and Neel. I wished I’d met Sarina last year. Then I would have talked to her about Neel and might have been bold enough to get to know him better.

After receiving my report card for the first quarter and watching me study hard, Mummy became curious about Sarina. She asked what Sarina’s mummy and pappa did, if she had any brothers or sisters, and where they lived before moving to Mumbai.

I’d already told her what Sarina’s parents did, that she was an only child, and that they’d moved from New Delhi. Maybe she hadn’t been listening.

One Friday, after I got a hundred percent on my math test, Mummy kept looking at my test paper over and over again. “All I can say is, when your luck arrives, it drops right through the roof and lands in your lap.”

I looked at my lap. “I don’t see anything sitting on my lap.”

“Sarina is your luck. She’s turned your lazy brain inside out, hasn’t she? Ask her to have lunch with us on Sunday.”

“Lunch? Sarina?”

“Yes. I want to meet her.”

Once when I was in seventh grade I had asked Mummy if Janki and Yamini could come over. Mummy said, “There are five of you. Isn’t that enough? Why do you need two more?”