His uncle would be asleep three minutes after Dev left. “Yes, good night.”
He paused outside his niece’s room, but all he could hear was the humidifier running. He cracked the door. The light glowing under the blanket winked out. He opened the door wider. There was plenty of light in the room from the moon streaming in and the nightlight he’d installed near the door for him to see.
“Luna,” he whispered. “I see you’re awake. Can I please speak with you?”
The cover shifted, and out popped a curly dark head. Luna’s hair had been much longer, but right before they’d moved, he’d come home to find her standing in the bathroom, black strands all around her feet, scissors in her hand, and a blank expression on her small face. He’d hidden his concern by helping her clean up the bathroom and trim parts of the back she hadn’t been able to reach. Once he’d been alone, he’d reached for one of the many books he’d bought on children and grief to assure himself that he hadn’t somehow screwed something up.
Luna plopped her phone on the bed and leaned against the headboard. She looked much younger than thirteen, with her tiny heart-shaped face and short bob. She muttered something in Spanish. One thing his brother had done was engage good tutors for Luna. She spoke five languages fairly fluently and could slip in and out of them with ease.
She chose Spanish and French when she wanted to keep something from him. Joke was on her, however. He’d downloaded an app for that.
Knock was the only word he could make out, but that was enough. He took a step in. “I should have knocked. I’m sorry.”
Even after a year, she still looked bemused when he agreed with her or treated her as an adult, which made him wonder exactly how his brother had treated his daughter. Probably with the same casual distracted affection Rohan had given to most things that weren’t acting or women or drugs.
Perhaps if Dev had been around more, had paid attention to her before his brother had died a year ago, he would know more about how Luna’d been raised. A stab of guilt ran through him, a feeling he was so familiar with, it was almost second nature now.
She switched to English. “Thank you.” Her manner was stiff and formal.
Internally, he heaved a tired sigh. He hadn’t thought getting sudden guardianship of his niece after her father’s death left her an orphan would be easy, but he’d been lulled into a false sense of calm over the last month or so.
“You know the rules, though. No phone this late.” Monitoring and enforcing cell phone usage was something he did reluctantly. He hated playing the disciplinarian, but he also didn’t want his ward to have unlimited screen time. All the experts seemed to agree that wasn’t good for developing brains.
“Sorry. The book got good.”
He tossed the screen time rule out the window. He couldn’t see how limiting reading could ever be good. “What are you reading?”
“Stephen King.”
“At night?” He wouldn’t police age appropriateness in reading either, though he did wonder if scary tales at night were good for her.
“It’s the best time to read it. Did you just get home?”
“Yes.” He came to sit on the edge of the bed. “What did you do tonight?” He kept his tone mild and not accusatory.
A muscle ticked in her jaw. That tick had made Vivek Dixit famous back in the golden screen days. “Uncle’s mad at me, I guess.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because we had a fight about dinner.”
Dev nodded. “I understand you had a disagreement over something called a Bagel Bites.”
“It’s pizza on a bagel.”
“That does sound . . .” American. “Intriguing. But perhaps not as healthy as a home-cooked meal.”
“I’m tired of Indian food all the time. Junk food’s the best part about coming to America.”
He adjusted the teddy bear next to her. In many ways, Luna was becoming a young woman, but she still slept with this ratty blue bear. “That’s the only reason you grew upset? You were fed up with the same style of food every night?”
She looked away. “Yeah.”
“It wasn’t kind of you to snap at Adil Uncle. He loves you very much and he deserves your respect.”
Her eyes grew wet, but the tears didn’t overflow. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You’ll have to tell him that tomorrow.” His uncle had the same soft heart as Dev’s mother. The man would immediately forgive Luna.
Her throat moved. “I will.”
Dev hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller. The last thing he wanted to do was make his niece feel cowed or scared. “Where did you get the money for ordering the food you wanted?”
“Aji gave me a credit card to use for emergencies.”
Now it was time for him to control the tic in his cheek. His grandmother. “I don’t want you using that card for anything but emergencies,” he said quietly. “Real emergencies.”
“Okay.”
“Perhaps we could go out to dinner, the three of us, when I get home tomorrow. Try some American cuisine. Get out a little and give your uncle a break from cooking. We can do so weekly.”
Luna shifted. “That might be nice.”
She didn’t look especially enthused, which told him the issue wasn’t really about the food. Or at least, not entirely about the food. “Sometimes when I’m acting and I have to act sad or angry, I have to think about something that made me sad or angry, and transfer my emotions from there to the scene.”
“That’s cool.”
It wasn’t, but he was trying to make a point. “Did something else make you frustrated today? Something other than Bagel Bites?”
She fiddled with her collar. “Maybe.”
She had moved on to speaking Hindi now, and he followed her there. “Tell me.”
“I want to go to school.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You go to school.” Her tutor in India had been one of the best, and Dev had kept the woman on, despite the hefty salary she commanded. She taught Luna virtually, willing to accommodate their new time zone.
He opened his mouth, but Luna held up a finger, her words coming fast, like she’d rehearsed them. “I have no real educational structure right now, except for the one my tutor makes up.”
“You’re two grade levels ahead of your age. Your structure is the four hours you work with your tutor in the mornings, plus any homework she assigns. Is it that you feel as though you don’t have a dedicated workspace? I’ll buy you a desk.” Actually, he quite liked the idea of that, both of them working side by side in his office in the apartment when he wasn’t on set.
“Please hold comments until the end.”
Not for the first time, he wondered if Luna was actually a too-serious forty-five-year-old businessperson in a child’s body. He mimed zipping his lips.
She held up a second finger. “While I do get to participate in many activities, group sports and social events are not possible. I want to join a football team, or play cricket—or baseball, whatever—or be on a fancy dress party committee.”
She had a point there. He had no doubt Luna had gotten to do many things her friends didn’t, by virtue of being a Dixit, but team sports and the like hadn’t been one of them.