She lay along his side over him. Soft kisses, lips heated by exertion and bliss. She lifted off his lips, looked down at him and sighed. “I think I ...ove you, Joe.”“I love you, too, Moira.”“Shit,” she said.“Yeah.”They chuckled. He loved that low for a female, cigarette roughened sound. One of his favorite things he loved about her.They finally got up. He opened the wine. They had plastic cups. They drank, smoked a doobie. She smoked a cigarette. More than one. And they talked. Not about them,. Mukesh was our groundsman. He was responsible for the work being carried out on our farms. He was an honest guy, that was why he was highly regarded by my grandfather. No servant was served food in our haveli, but he was the only one who used to eat inside the haveli. He was a man of very few words and most of the time kept to himself.When my mom served him the food, he was very surprised. He was not aware that my mom and I had arrived from Delhi that day.My mom greeted him with a smile and he. More

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