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The woman behind the counter called, “Kal, you want the usual?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Now Nikil looked at Kal more closely, discomfited. “You guys know each other?”
“We went to high school together.”
“So you’re from around here, that’s awesome. I love Jackson Heights.”
“Where’d you go to high school?” Kal asked.
Nikil grinned. “Dublin, Ohio. But I lit out for New York as fast as I could after college.” He pointed from Rosemary to Kal. “So you two know each other how?”
“We’re friends,” Rosemary said.
Kal’s friend brought water and plastic glasses. “You have sparkling?” Nikil asked.
“No.”
“Okay, sorry, this is great.” His attention snapped back to Rosemary. “It’s great you could meet here, isn’t it? I was already in Queens for a meet-and-greet thing, and I could just pop right over.”
“Yes.”
“I read all about you this morning, looked over your proposal and your pages. It’s good stuff, for sure, that’s why our rights people snapped it up for the U.S. market, there’s a lot of interest in Everest.” He talked rapidly, without a full stop in sight. “But we’re worried, because the pages you sent are kind of—” He made a noise like air leaking out of a tire, and Rosemary’s heart sank. Nikil’s hand came up, flat palm extended. “Now, don’t panic, authors never want to hear that, but it’s not the end of the line or anything, we were just thinking, you know, maybe that’s not the book you’re supposed to be writing? Especially with the avalanche happening, and I was reading on the train, I googled it, there was another avalanche in 2015, with a massive earthquake, you know about that?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I was there,” Kal said.
“You’re an Everest guy, too, huh? That’s really interesting, I loved that book, the Krakauer one. Did you summit?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“I’m not a climber. I’m Sherpa.”
“You mean like those crew guys, carrying the stuff up the mountain?”
“Something like that.”
“It’s highly skilled work,” Rosemary interjected. “Kal worked with the icefall doctors, setting up a safe route for the climbers. It’s quite dangerous, and essential to the expeditions’ success.”
“That’s cool. That’s where you guys met?”
Kal’s high school friend brought three massive platters of momo to the table, along with some kind of salad she set in front of Kal. “The soup will be ready in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, jeez, these look amazing. You guys are amazing.” Nikil addressed the food, ignoring the woman. “So anyway, the avalanche a couple years ago, another avalanche this year, that’s a lot of disaster, a lot of death, right, and people love reading those kinds of survivor accounts. So my first question, definitely, for you, is whether there’s anything in that? Since you can’t open your book with the Everest summit, maybe there’s something in the tragedy that will really grab readers. Here, help yourself.” He extended a platter of momo toward her.
Rosemary offered it to Kal. “Would you like any?”
“I’m good with the salad, thanks.”
Rosemary transferred a few of the dumplings onto a styrofoam plate and added chili sauce. She didn’t like this man.
She cut her momo into four pieces with a plastic knife and fork, selected the smallest, dipped it into the sauce, and chewed it slowly and carefully.
Stuck with her silence, Nikil fidgeted in his chair like a small child who needed the loo. Kal tucked into his salad, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
