I took notes and snapped pictures diligently. It was right on the highway, but that probably made it easy to get to, and Vinnie would love the view over the Charles from the big windows!
“Where is the garden?” I asked. The garden would make or break the deal.
“Come right this way,” the event manager said. We took the elevator down to the ground level and walked outdoors.
A neatly mowed strip of grass rolled gently down toward the river. It was small—that was my first impression. There were pretty azalea bushes, and tall pines overhead, and the water of the Charles lapping the end of the lawn, but when you turned away from the river the hotel loomed over everything. I tried not to let my disappointment show. It could work—maybe—but it was far from perfect. I clicked a bunch of photographs, angling the shots away from the building.
“Nice, isn’t it? We’ve had lots of Hindu weddings here.” Her upbeat attitude was starting to annoy me. Especially since two mosquitoes had bitten me on the ankle in the five minutes we’d been standing there, even though I was wearing full-length pants. The pretty backdrop of the river definitely had a downside—it turned the garden into bugsville. “This space works really well for the moondaap.”
“Mandap,” I corrected automatically.
“Right!” she said. “Would you like to go over the rates now?”
The pumps might have made me look older, but they killed my feet. I limped back to the parking lot, got into the car, and yanked off the heels so I could massage my ankles. I had to get going if I didn’t want to be late for work. Luckily the hotel wasn’t too far from home. Well, if you drove like a normal person—which I didn’t! Couldn’t wait for the day driving would feel as natural as walking. Definitely wasn’t there yet.
That’s how I took the wrong turn at the intersection with Route 128 and ended up on the highway instead of going over it—it was confusing, okay? Next thing I knew, cars were zooming alongside me at warp speed and I was either going to have to speed up or get run over. I shifted into fourth gear and caught up with the rest of the roaring traffic. I looked for the next exit, but I was in the wrong lane and there was a huge tractor-trailer in the next lane blocking it. Dang! I kept going. How far could it be to the next exit?
I stepped on the accelerator and suddenly I was enjoying myself instead of panicking. I liked the feeling of zipping along in my Mini. That thing could go! I turned up the volume on the radio.
However, the gas gauge was dipping into dangerous territory—way less than a quarter tank of gas—even though my reserve light had not as yet turned on. I had to get off the highway and figure out how I was getting home. And get some gas, in case I was actually, like, lost. And call Dad so he wouldn’t freak. And also break it to my boss that I wasn’t going to get to Ace.
I managed to get into the rightmost lane, in position for the next exit. The reserve tank light was now on—blinking red on the dashboard. Great—now I had less than a gallon of gas left!
I pulled off onto Route 2. Where was that—Lexington? I grabbed the cell phone—no bars, no service whatsoever! Where was I, and why hadn’t I brought the GPS like Dad had asked me to?
I kept driving, and a street sign went by that looked familiar. Wasn’t Ernie Uncle’s garage somewhere here? Sure enough, there was the sign for ERNIE’S AUTOMOTIVE—the place where I learned to change oil and a flat tire and helped Dad fix the radio on the Mini. The red neon sign that said OPEN was like a homing beacon.
I pulled in, parked, and got out on shaky legs.
I wandered onto the shop floor—a couple of cars were up on the lifts getting some work done—and opened the door to the office. “Anyone there?”
“Heeey, Mini.” It was Ernie Uncle, wearing neat blue overalls, his broad face lit up in surprise. He did a double take when he saw my outfit. “Whoa! You look fancy! Car doing okay?”
He had no idea how happy I was to see him.
“Car’s fine, but it could do with some gas,” I confessed. “It’s running on fumes!”
“Minnnni!” he said reproachfully.
“Look, I’ll be more careful in the future, okay?” I said. “And my cell has no service. Can I use your phone?”
“Sure you can,” he said.
“Thanks!” I dipped a hand into the candy he always keeps on the check-in counter, feeling like a kid again. “Dad?” I said when he picked up. “Dad, don’t get mad! I’m at Ernie Uncle’s. I took a wrong turn onto the highway. No, I’m fine. I just want to let you know because I’ll be late and I didn’t want you to worry. No, Ernie Uncle is filling up my gas; will you pay him next time you’re here?… Yes, I know how to get home from here!”
I also called Sonal, who was far more understanding than I deserved, then left the office to find Ernie Uncle.
He was all excited about some Indian car he’d just been working on.
“It was an Indian SUV,” he said. “The Mirchandani Stinger. Am I saying it right?”
I shrugged. “Don’t ask me!” I said. “I’ve heard Dad talk about them, though. They use them in the army, I think. The Indian army.”
“Neat little thing,” Ernie Uncle said. “It’s no Hummer, of course, but it’s well-built. Anyway, what I want to tell you about is the guy!”
I raised my eyebrows. “What guy?”
“The guy
