Chapter Twenty-One #2
Sameera glanced at Tom, who was reaching for more grilled eggplant.
He ate each dish slowly, evaluating and deconstructing every ingredient.
He quietly excused himself and returned with salt, which he added to the eggplant curry.
She liked the way he unobtrusively took care of those around him, unlike Andy, who turned everything into a big production.
Abu Isra continued his story. “I joined my first-year tutorial for a mandatory literature course, and who do you think was my instructor?”
Hiba smiled. “I had just finished my master’s degree when Younus joined my class. I found out later that he was five years older than me, even though he behaved as if he were ten years younger!”
Abu Isra waved off her words. “It was just as my father said. The moment I saw my Hiba, it was over for me.”
Sameera met Tom’s gaze, serious and intent on her; she knew they were both thinking of their first meeting at the firm’s holiday party, the way they had simply clicked.
Hiba picked up the thread; Sameera could tell that they both enjoyed sharing their story, and had told it so often it had become a central part of their family lore.
“Of course, I had no idea of his intentions. When he asked me to go for a walk after class, I thought he wanted to beg me for a higher mark on his test. He still wasn’t a very good student. ”
“I’m better at talking than studying,” Abu Isra countered, and the table laughed. “I wore her down eventually.”
Sameera reached for more fattoush salad. “How did you manage that?” she asked.
“I paid attention,” Abu Isra said. “I brought her gifts. I made her favorite tea. When none of that worked, I started to study for her tests.”
More laughter greeted this revelation. Sameera recalled the samosas, biryani, chai, and apple pie Tom had made for her and with her.
He was constantly feeding her, nourishing her, making sure she was taken care of, comforting her.
She met his gaze once more, and hoped her flushed cheeks weren’t too obvious.
“I could see he was trying hard to better himself,” Hiba confirmed with a fond smile at her husband. “After the class ended, he asked to speak to my father.”
“Her father told me I wasn’t good enough for his daughter, but by then, it was too late. Hiba would have no one else,” Abu Isra declared proudly.
“Actually, my father felt sorry for you, and said I should marry you out of charity because no one else would have you,” Hiba teased. “But yes, it is true. I wanted to be only with him.”
Sameera glanced from Abu Isra to Hiba. They had met under the most adorable of circumstances, and now lived together an ocean and a continent away from their beloved home.
They had built a life here, and were now contemplating returning to their homeland, despite not knowing what they would find.
Their bravery and steadfast hope felt like a beacon to her now, a model to emulate.
She reached for a kabob instead, and the conversation moved on.
Finally, when there were only pita crumbs left and everyone was groaning and rubbing their full bellies, Rob sighed. “Delicious meal, my friend. Why don’t you have that eggplant dish on your regular menu?”
Their host laughed. “We have to keep some things for special nights, yes? In any case, that dish is not my recipe.”
“My compliments to Hiba, then,” Rob said, nodding her way.
“Actually, your son provided that recipe,” Hiba said. “I offered him a job, but he said he has his hands full in Atlanta.”
Rob didn’t say anything, but Sameera noticed he reached for another helping of the dish.
Tom’s eyes were on his father’s face as he scooped up the curry with his pita, and she watched with a smile as a look of understanding passed between father and son.
Perhaps her earlier encouragement had resonated with Tom; perhaps the presence of another broken but healing family had inspired Rob.
Whatever the reason, it was clear that something was starting to shift in their relationship. It did Sameera’s heart good to see it.
Then she met Andy’s frowning glance, and realized that Tom and Rob’s improved relationship was not what the irascible former billionaire wanted at all.
For dessert, Hiba had baked basboussa, a dense cake made with semolina and soaked in syrup, topped with crushed pistachios and saffron, and Tom presented their apple pies, to much enthusiasm.
There was also cut-up fruit, ice cream, and mint tea to wash it all down.
When they finally left Abu Isra and Hiba’s home, everyone was stuffed and happy.
Sameera climbed into the car with Rob, Tom, and her father for the drive back to Cooke Place.
“That food was amazing. I liked your eggplant dish,” Sameera said to him. It was the first time they had spoken all night, and he flashed her a small smile.
“Just a recipe I’ve been messing around with,” he said shyly. “You have to roast the garlic separately.”
“I liked it, too,” Rob said suddenly. He glanced at Sameera and cleared his throat. “Maybe you could make it for me sometime.”
Tom seemed startled at this. “Thanks, Dad,” he said. “I’d like that.”
Hours later, in her room at the guesthouse, Sameera stared at her phone. Nadiya had ignored her for days now, and she needed her sister. No one else understood her history, her fears, and anxieties in quite the same way.
She lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling.
Nadiya used to tease her that she was a chronic overanalyzer.
That she couldn’t make a decision without listing out all the pros and cons, asking her friends and family for advice, and completing a future forecast. And yet when her mother told her she had bought tickets to Alaska, she had folded almost instantly—which meant that on some level, she wanted to be here.
She wanted to spend time with her family.
She wanted to watch old holiday classics and argue about whether Die Hard was really a Christmas movie.
She had enjoyed the Christmas market, and ice-skating, and even making those cooking videos with Tom.
It had all felt . . . nice. Like coming home.
There was something about Wolf Run. Coming here had changed her. She felt content, and more relaxed than she had in years. Braver, too. She couldn’t remember the last time she had stepped off the treadmill that was her life and simply allowed herself time to be, without judgment, guilt, or blame.
In a strange way, it felt like a callback to those first few weeks after she had severed ties with her family, when she had confused the euphoria of drastic action with happiness.
Except this felt better, healthier, cleaner somehow.
It felt good to be around her parents and brother, even when she found them annoying.
It felt right to confront her feelings of shame and embarrassment, and to talk over the pain of the last few years with Tom.
She might finally be ready to have the hard conversation with her own parents about why she had pushed them away—and ask them why they had let her.
She must have drifted off to sleep, because she woke up to a noise.
A dull thud sounded against her window. Bear was her alarming first thought.
Tom was her even more alarming second. Groggy, she staggered to the window and looked into the darkness.
Someone stood outside her ground-floor window, grinning at her.
Esa raised his cell phone, and she reached for her own.
I want to show you something, he texted. I promise it will be fun. She checked the time—it was nearing midnight. When she looked up, he had disappeared. Shrugging off her exhaustion, she reached for her jacket and slipped outside.