Ayesha At Last(85)

Khalid didn’t know how to ask the next question. “You and your husband . . .” he began.

“Iqram and I are still together,” Zareena said firmly. “I’m going to sponsor him just as soon as I get settled.”

Khalid was silent. “I don’t understand,” he said.

Zareena stood up. “I came back to face her,” she said. “I came here straight from the airport. Twelve years without a call or letter. I wanted her to see I’m still alive and doing well.” Zareena’s shoulders drooped. “When you opened the door, I lost my nerve.”

Khalid didn’t know what to say. “You must be tired,” he said awkwardly.

Zareena smiled at him again. “You have no idea. Could I trouble you for a ride?” She was crashing with an old high school friend, Lauren, and refused Khalid’s offer to stay at the house. He drove her to the small east-end bungalow and took her bags inside. Then he stood on the porch, fidgeting.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’ll even let you take me out for dinner.” Zareena hugged him, holding him close. Khalid hugged her back carefully—he didn’t want to hurt his soon-to-be niece.

“I was so afraid something had happened to you. I didn’t know what to do,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You’re the reason I could come back. All that money you sent . . . I saved every cent.”

KHALID called in sick the next day too, and accompanied his sister to Ikea. Zareena joked she was a cheap date as they stood in line at the cafeteria, Khalid holding her tray while she picked out dinner: a small carton of 2% milk, almond Daim cake and vegetarian meatballs. Khalid’s stomach felt queasy, and he settled for a cup of coffee, black with three sugars.

They settled into a table in the back corner. Zareena’s eyes rested on a toddler evading the grasp of his mother.

“We could have gone somewhere else to eat,” Khalid said.

“I like the food here. Also, I need to buy some furniture,” Zareena said. “A bed, crib, some sheets, a dresser.”

“We’re not just here for the food?”

Zareena smiled. “I found an apartment close by. I need to show that I have a place to live, and a job, before I can sponsor Iqram.” She hesitated. “The landlord wants someone to co-sign the lease. Lauren said she’d do it, but if you’re willing . . .”

Khalid nodded. “Of course. I’m not sure where you’ll be able to find any work, in your condition.”

Zareena shrugged. “Even if it’s tutoring or babysitting, I’ll do anything for my family.”

Khalid smiled at his sister. “You’re so different.”

“You’re not the same skinny little boy either.” Zareena took a careful bite of the Daim cake and closed her eyes. “So good,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your emails. I meant to, but packing up everything to move here took so much time. How’s your fiancée?”

Khalid’s smile faltered. “We didn’t work out.”

“Probably a good thing. You seemed more into that other girl, Ayesha.”

Khalid’s smile completely disappeared. “That didn’t work out either.”

“And here you are, taking your homeless, knocked-up big sister to Ikea. I don’t know who has it worse.”

Khalid looked at his sister—newly immigrated, financially insecure, emotionally vulnerable. Yet her face was glowing, and the teasing smile blossomed repeatedly on her face. “I think you’re amazing,” he said.

Zareena squeezed his arm. “Right back at you. Now let’s go check out some cheap double beds.”

She was careful with her money. She picked out a simple crib and dresser and a plain double bed; a queen might not fit in the rental basement apartment. A small sofa and armchair completed her purchase, and she refused Khalid’s offer to pay. On the drive home, she leaned her head against the window and fiddled with the radio.

“I’m moving into my new place tomorrow,” Zareena said. “Maybe you can come over. Bless it with your beard or something.”

Khalid parked the car in Lauren’s driveway. “Do you need more money? For groceries or something.”

Zareena shook her head. “You already gave me some, remember? Every month for years.”

“It was nothing,” he said. “I should have done more. Zareena—”

But she was already opening the door and stepping out. “Let’s talk tomorrow,” she said. “My feet are killing me, and this conversation can wait one more night.”

He watched her waddle to the front door. The light turned on and Lauren let his sister in out of the cold.





Chapter Thirty-Eight

When Khalid arrived at work on Wednesday, the office was empty. Amir was not sleeping on the couch, and his friend’s desk was devoid of toiletries. Khalid settled into his chair and checked his email. The presentation meeting with WomenFirst Design was scheduled for today. Maybe Sheila would be so pleased with his work that she’d let him go home early. He’d promised Zareena he would assemble the Ikea furniture.

He entered his username and password, and a screen popped up: ACCESS DENIED. PLEASE SEE NETWORK SECURITY ADMINISTRATION.

What was going on?