When Dimple Met Rishi(22)
"I love it," Dimple breathed, the lenses of her glasses reflecting the lights as she swiveled her head to look at every corner. She walked to a painted horse head and stroked its opalescent mane. "Amazing."
"Welcome," a middle-aged lady with short hair said from behind a teal desk in the corner. "I'm Wanda. These are all things I've found on my travels around the world. Some are from flea markets; others were gifts. Take a look around and let me know if you have any questions!"
"Will do!" Dimple called. Then she looped a gaudy set of necklaces laden with gold discs the size of her palm around her neck and put a hand on her hip. "What do you think? Definitely me, right?"
Rishi held up a finger. He grabbed a silver rhinestone-studded headband with a peacock feather sticking out of it and set it on Dimple's head. "There you go. Now that's simply fetching."
She pretended to strut around, and, on impulse, he raised the Polaroid and took a picture.
"Hey!" she said when the flash popped. "What was that for?" She reached out and punched him in the ribs, seemingly as an afterthought.
"Ow!" Rishi said, rubbing his side. "What the heck?"
"Sorry," Dimple mumbled, and it sounded only half true. "But seriously, why'd you take my picture?"
"I think we may have just crossed funny off the list," he said, referring to item number one on their scavenger hunt list. He flapped the photograph a few times, and then held it out for her to see. She looked like a turkey wearing jewelry.
At first Rishi thought Dimple might rip up the photograph. A look of abject horror passed over her face. But then her eyes crinkled and she snorted. "Okay. Point taken." Pulling the necklaces and headband off, she looked around the store, hands on hips. "So where's Buddha?"
"Aha. This way." Rishi beckoned, winding his way around a few room dividers and coffee tables. When they emerged into the far corner of the store, he gestured with a flourish. "Ta-daaaa!"
He watched her face closely as she took in the nearly eight-foot-tall, gold-plated statue in the corner. Dimple's eyes widened, and then she turned to him, grinning. Oof. It was like getting punched in the diaphragm when she turned the wattage to full on that thing. Rishi tried to smile normally in response. "Isn't it cool?"
In response Dimple laughed and ran over to it. "Cool? This is fan-freaking-tastic! My mom would flip out. She loves Buddha statues, especially laughing Buddhas. She has, like, this whole collection in the puja room at our house." She ran one hand over the statue's arm. "It's really beautiful, in a way, right?"
Rishi raised an eyebrow and pulled the camera up to take a picture. "If by ‘beautiful' you mean ‘tacky' . . ."
Dimple chuckled. "It's my turn to take a picture." She reached out and grabbed the camera he was holding in his hands, apparently forgetting that the strap was around his neck. When she yanked on it, she pulled him closer, his head automatically inclining toward hers.
Rishi froze, his eyes gazing down right into hers. They weren't more than three inches apart. Strange things were happening in the pit of his stomach. Fun things.
• • •
His eyes reminded her of old apothecary bottles, deep brown, when the sunlight hit them and turned them almost amber. Dimple loved vintage things. She followed a bunch of vintage photography accounts on Instagram, and old apothecary bottles were a favorite subject. So it was a kind of magic, being here in this antiques store with a boy whose eyes were just the right shade of honey.
For about two seconds.
Dimple pulled away, coughing, and let go of the camera so it bounced back down against his firm chest. "Er, sorry. I thought, um, that-I didn't know the strap was still around your neck." She was having a hard time meeting his eye. And was that a tiny coating of sweat on her upper lip? Yuck. Dimple pretended to be pulling at an errant curl and swiped a hand across it.
Rishi must not be feeling the tumult of weirdness that she was. His voice was perfectly calm as he replied. "No problem. Here." He pulled the strap gracefully from around his neck and held out the camera to her. There was a flicker of something in his eye when he looked at her, but it was gone so quickly, Dimple wondered if she'd imagined it. "It is your turn, you're right."
The laughing jokiness of the past few minutes was completely gone as Dimple pointed the camera at the statue and took a picture. "Thanks." She handed the camera back to Rishi as she flapped the picture, and, wordlessly, he looped the camera back around his neck. "So," she said, slipping the photograph into the envelope that the list had come with. "Where to next? We've done Buddha and funny . That leaves water, yellow , and blur ."