On Tuesday morning, Natasha donned her red silk sari -- the one she bought last year in Kanchipuram -- and sat cross-legged in the garden to read an English translation of the Arruppittai. Feeling hungry, she ordered tiffin from the Red Trolley Diner, a lovely Ringan Nu Shaak made with local eggplants, and a small dish of sweet Basuti.
Then she flossed.
Returning to the lush green garden, Natasha sat cross-legged on a stone amidst the lilies and bee-balm, her long black hair trailing casually over her red silk sari, and sketched imaginary scenes from the Nakkirar legend.
Roderick, looking out a window from the rear of the third floor, thought Natasha looked beautiful, so beautiful he wanted to run over and hug her.
He refrained.
Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Zemlinsky met with clients in Milan. Mr. Zemlinsky ordered a cassouela of pork, sausage and Savoy cabbage; Mrs. Zemlinsky ordered coteletta alla milanese; and the clients ordered osso buco with risotto milanese. They shared a lovely Pinot Nero from the Oltrepo Pavese, then retired to their rooms at the Town House Galleria.
At the same time, Molly sat down at the Bosendorfer in the Bloom's living room and began to practice: finger exercises, scales, etudes, repertoire. Her long fingers danced across the keyboard. Leaning forward, her nostrils flared.
On Elm Street, Megan Cupcake awoke, ate a small breakfast of succotash and hard-boiled eggs, then dressed in a green sweatshirt, blue jeans and clogs. Sitting at the picnic table in the garden, she carefully cleaned her Glock.
Later that morning, Roderick went to work at the boathouse. Tuesday is a slow day at the pond, so Roderick and Mr. Armstrong painted and repaired some of the canoes.
On the telephone, Mr. Smith reassured Mr. Hazeltine that her investments were safe.
Working at home, in her office on the second floor of the Smith home, Mrs. Smith worked quickly at her computer to finish her latest technical writing project. Mrs. Smith is a free-lance technical writer; she works for software companies who need people to write documentation.
Knuckles slept.
Laddie waited patiently for Roderick to come home.
At the studio, Henry Witherspoon sketched; from time to time, he looked over at the empty easel where Natasha usually works.
