“But, you have a perfect life; a gorgeous house, great friends. I understand that you have a husband who adores you and is very powerful and influential and you even have a career. What else can you want?”
“I guess I can’t complain,” I responded. It was not the time to get too personal with a total stranger. “Who have you been talking to?” I was curious.
“Rauf. Who else? He was the one who suggested that I contact you. He speaks very highly of you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he has a little crush on you.”
“Rauf is a good man. Are you interested in him?” I asked.
“Who wouldn’t be? He’s single, handsome and the president’s son. What’s not to like? But, I know I’m not his type. He goes for the damsel in distress kind. I’m too strong and opinionated for the Presidential Palace. Besides, marriage is the farthest thing on my mind. My career comes first.”
“Have you met my husband?” I inquired.
“I haven’t had the pleasure but Rauf has told me all about him.” She started twirling her ring which I found quite annoying. “They’ve been friends since college, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ve taken enough of your time and I have to head back to the base.”
“The visit was too short. We have to do this again,” I insisted.
I really hadn’t made up my mind about her. I was influenced by what I knew through Dalal, yet, she was an enigma that piqued my curiosity. I wondered if the liberated, self-sufficient woman she appeared to be was only an act. Her life was what I imagined mine could have been.
Second Chances
A month later, I met Esmaa at the military base. It was a holiday. We were celebrating Antarah’s Independence Day with a big parade. There was an air show followed by marching troops, tanks and other military vehicles with armed soldiers. Fouad was sitting up front with the President, Rauf and their entourage. I sat a few rows back with Jamila, Nur, Mariam and Esmaa. This kind of event wasn’t my idea of fun, but I had to show my support because above all, I was a military wife.
It was truly a beautiful day; not a cloud in the sky. A half-hour into the activity, Rauf came to greet us. Suddenly, we heard shots. It was chaotic. Rauf ordered us to duck to avoid any stray bullets. As he rushed to his father’s side, we could see people running and screaming. More shots were heard.
By then, the president was safe in his vehicle and two other men escorted Rauf into a car.
At this point, I hurried toward the front seats looking for Fouad. Several of the president’s bodyguards were dead on the floor. Fouad was also on the floor. For a moment, I thought he was dead. I was overcome by this big emptiness. It was surreal watching a man like him vulnerable.
Esmaa helped me snap out of it.
“He’s been shot in the shoulder and has lost a lot of blood,” she hollered.
I kneeled down quickly. Instinctively, I took my scarf and started to wrap it around his shoulder applying pressure to stop the bleeding. After I finished, I held him in my arms.
“Where’s the ambulance?” I screamed hysterically.
Jamila, Nur and Mariam ran by my side to see what had happened. They were also concerned about their husbands who were participating in the event. A group of soldiers surrounded the area. They informed us that everyone else was safe.
“It was an attempt on the president’s life. This man is a hero. He saved the president,” the soldier affirmed with pride as he looked at Fouad.
Within a few minutes, the ambulance pulled up and I rode with Fouad as we headed to the hospital.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I’ll survive,” he replied.
“I’ve never been this scared in my life,” I confessed.
“Were you afraid of losing me?” he asked as the ambulance doors opened.
He was rushed to the operating room to extract the bullet. I waited patiently. The ladies arrived shortly after to give their support. Rauf got to the hospital right after with the men.
“He saved my father’s life. We will always be indebted to him,” Rauf expressed containing his emotions.
“How is your father?”
“A little shaken and shocked that something like this could happen.”
“Did they catch the person who did this?” Esmaa asked agitated.
“Yes, the shooter was shot on the spot. We’ve also apprehended a few men for questioning. We will get to the bottom of this. This kind of action will not be tolerated and anyone involved will be executed,” he replied with a sturdy voice.
Rauf kept discussing the day’s incident as I stepped out to get water. As I returned, I came across Dr. Ibrahim.
“I was looking for you. I heard what happened and came to see how you were doing. How’s your husband?”
“He’s in the O.R. with a bullet in his shoulder. Can you check on his status?”
“Of course, I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, he returned.
“The prognosis is good, he’s in recovery.”
“That’s great news,” Rauf sighed as he approached us.
“You’ll be able to see him in about an hour. He’s still under the effects of the anesthesia.”
“Rauf,” Dr. Ibrahim said as he hugged him and kissed him on each cheek. “How’s your father?”
“Alive thanks to Fouad.”
“Aljamda Allah, thank God.” He turned to me. “Well, I need to get back to work but if you need anything just let me know.”
Dr. Ibrahim was a good man and friend. His presence made me feel safe and reassured. When the hour was up, Rauf and I went to see Fouad.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“I’m fine. There is nothing to be concerned about. It comes with the job,” he said. “Rauf, how’s the president?”
“Alive thanks to you,” Rauf said relieved. “He’s called me twice to ask about you.”
“Tell the president it was an honor and my duty to take a bullet for him. I would do it again if I had to.”
“Thanks, brother,” Rauf said while squeezing his hand.
“Fatima, let Rauf take you home, I’ll be all right. “
“I want to spend the night by your side,” I pleaded.
“Go home and rest. You can come see me tomorrow morning,” he insisted.
“You’re a stubborn man. I’ll be here early in the morning. Call me if you need anything, no matter what time it is,” I said as I kissed his forehead.
Rauf insisted on buying me a cup of tea before going home. Afterwards, I told him that I wanted to check in on Fouad one last time.
From the hallway, I looked through the glass into his room to see if he was asleep. To my surprise, I saw Esmaa in his room. She was holding his hand and talking to him. I was stunned.
I couldn’t understand why Esmaa hadn’t told me she knew Fouad. Why was she holding his hand while he laid in a hospital bed? Too many things were going through my mind. Now, wasn’t the time or place to make a scene. Instead, I turned away and looked for answers somewhere else.
“So, how was the patient?” Rauf asked. “Sleeping like a baby.”
I engaged in some small talk and then I started talking about Esmaa.
“Does Esmaa know Fouad?” I asked.
“Know him? Esmaa has been working in Fouad’s department for the past month. They are actually putting together a weapons seminar,” he said.
“Sounds interesting. How long have you known her?”
“Not very long, but I know people who know her very well and speak highly of her qualifications.”
“How about as a person?”
“What’s with all the questions?”
“Nothing. She’s been trying to befriend me and I just want to make sure she is sincere.”
“I th
ink both of you have a lot in common. You are intelligent women, educated in the United States, trying to adapt to this country with another set of values and customs. I think she’s looking for a familiar face and you are it,” Rauf insisted.
“I guess you are right. I actually like her,” I said as I kept playing the image of her and Fouad in that room over and over again in my mind.
The next morning, I headed to the hospital. I spoke to the doctor in charge of his case who assured me that everything was fine and that Fouad would be heading home in a couple of days.
As I walked towards his room, I realized the whole floor was swarming with secret service. The president was in the room visiting Fouad.
“Come in, my dear Fatima.” He shook my hand respectfully. “You are married to a brave man. I owe him my life. You should be proud of your husband.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. I am very proud of him and very grateful to Allah that you are both alive.”
After a brief visit, everyone left and I stayed alone with Fouad. I had brought him the local newspapers and showed him the articles.
“So, how does it feel to be a hero?”
“I’m just a military man doing his duty.”
“Don’t be modest, it doesn’t become you.”
“So, were you afraid I would die?”
“Of course I was.”
“Come closer, give your hero a kiss,” he said in a naughty tone. We kissed. He was getting aroused.
“You need your rest,” I said as I pulled back.
I was happy he was alive but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on between Esmaa and my husband.
“So,” I asked. “How long have you known Esmaa?”
“Esmaa Al-Basheer?”
“Yes.”
“I guess since she moved back to Antarah. Esmaa works for me. I’ve actually wanted you to meet. I thought you could help her with the transition given the fact that you went through an adapting process when you got here.”
“How thoughtful, but I already know Esmaa. She was at our house for Dalal’s baby shower. I’ve met her a couple of times for tea. We were sitting together yesterday when you got shot.”
“She never told me; maybe because we just discuss business at work. Actually, Esmaa came to visit me yesterday after you left. She wanted to know how I was doing.”
“I know. I came back to say good night and I saw her.”
“Why didn’t you come in? Jealous?”
“Don’t be silly. Even though I probably should be. She was holding your hand and you don’t exactly have the best track record…”
“Fatima, are you ever going to trust me again? It was just a gesture of friendship.”
“I’m sorry, Fouad. This conversation will have to wait till you get home.”
“My relationship with Esmaa is strictly professional.”
“I want to believe you.”
I kissed him goodbye and told him I would be doing some paperwork at my office and would come back to see him later.
As I headed out, Rauf came to visit Fouad.
I turned around and discretely came close to the door to eavesdrop but the voices were muffled.
“How are you doing today, Fouad?” Rauf asked.
“Rauf, under no circumstance are you to tell Fatima that Esmaa and I dated years ago.”
“She was asking me too many questions about Esmaa last night,” Rauf said.
“Did you tell her anything?”
“Just that you work together but nothing about your past.”
“Good. She saw Esmaa here last night and was asking me questions this morning. I was able to smooth things over but I can’t afford more jealous rages.”
“How are things between you and Esmaa?” Rauf asked with curiosity.
“You know Esmaa means the world to me, but I’m a married man now and that boat has sailed.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
At my office, I went through my messages. When I was leaving, I saw Dr. Ibrahim. His jolly disposition put a smile on my face.
“Your husband must be better,” he said.
“Yes. Thanks for caring. I know we have to start working on our project. I just need some time,” I said.
“Work can wait. Take all the time you need to take care of your husband.”
“Thanks. I just need to catch up on a few things while he’s in the hospital.”
“Don’t work too hard.”
Esmaa was still on my mind. I wouldn’t be at ease until I spoke to her. So, I asked her to come to the house for coffee and she agreed.
We started with the usual chit-chat and then I got down to business.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew my husband?”
“I was going to tell you the day of the parade, but with all the commotion, I didn’t have a chance,” Esmaa said.
“I’m just surprised you didn’t call me before that day to tell me.”
“Why would I?”
“It just seems odd because we’ve brought Fouad up so many times in our conversations and now, I find out you’ve been working with him for some time and neither one of you has mentioned it. Don’t you find that a bit odd?”
“No. Are you upset?” Esmaa asked concerned.
“Disappointed. I saw you holding his hand at the hospital. Wouldn’t that strike you as being a little bizarre if you were in my shoes?”
“Never crossed my mind. I guess because our relationship is strictly professional.”
“Those were Fouad’s same words.”
“Fatima, I don’t want to get personal but I’ve heard that Fouad and you have been having issues because of his flirtatious nature,” Esmaa continued. “I felt uncomfortable discussing him with you. I didn’t want you to see me as a threat. I don’t know many people in Antarah and I value your friendship. I was trying to avoid misunderstandings. Forgive me if I didn’t handle the situation properly.”
“No matter what you’ve heard, Fouad and I are very committed to our marriage. I don’t consider you, or anyone else for that matter, a threat. You still haven’t told me why you were in his room after visiting hours.”
“I was concerned about him. We work together. I see him almost every day. I consider him a friend. I got carried away with my emotions because of what had happened. He could have died. I just held his hand as a gesture of support. I apologize for any misinterpretation. I was just trying to be a friend to both of you.”
“Maybe you’ve been away for too long but in Antarah married men cannot be friends with women or vice versa. Keep your hands to yourself and your distance from my husband. And, no more secrets if you want us to remain friends.”
Esmaa got up and gave me a hug. It was very awkward and uncomfortable.
“Let’s start with a clean slate,” she said.
“Sure.”
Her story wasn’t totally convincing. I knew she could be trouble based on Dalal’s experience. She was not to be trusted and I had to keep a close eye on her.
At this point, I had to consider her an adversary.
After a week, Fouad was released from the hospital. I was relieved to have him back home. I hoped everything was going to get back to normal now. I took some time off to pamper him. I changed his bandages and kept track of his medication. I trusted he knew I was grateful that he was alive.
It was difficult for me to pour my heart out to him and express my feelings. A lot of promises had been broken in the past and a lot of trust had been lost. I felt God was giving us a second chance and maybe it was time for me to forgive Fouad.
A few days later, he started getting back into his routine. He spent countless hours in his study working on his computer and talking on the phone. He was anxious to go back to work, but I insisted that the doctors want
ed him to take it easy. I guess he felt guilty that he was neglecting me. I was actually surprised when he encouraged me to continue my work at the hospital.
I understood he had a lot on his mind and many work-related responsibilities that he felt needed his attention. Hence, I took his advice and returned to work.
Making a Difference
I really had abandoned my projects and needed to get back on track. I also missed seeing Dr. Ibrahim. He was a breath of fresh air. He made me forget all my disappointments during the brief moments we spent together. Something about him was so undeniably attractive. Maybe the fact that our relationship was platonic and would never go further than flirtation was what made it plain, simple fun.
Dr. Ibrahim and I did have a lot in common, especially our love for children and our desire to help the less fortunate. I never felt that connection with Fouad even when we were at our best. Fouad had two totally different sides to his personality; he could be cruel and ruthless or loving and tender. Dr. Ibrahim, on the other hand, was exactly as he appeared to be: a kind, good-natured person who wanted to make a difference.
As I entered his office, I found him kneeling on the floor doing zuher, noon prayer. He was almost finished, so I waited. I was glad to know he was a religious man in addition to all his other wonderful qualities.
“Sorry for the interruption. I didn’t realize you followed the prayer times,” I said.
He folded his msalaeeh, a customary, small rug used strictly for prayer, and placed it in a drawer.
“I try the best I can, although sometimes I’m in surgery.” He paused. “I’m surprised to see you back so soon.”
“So you’re not happy to see me,” I answered.
“No. I mean yes, I’m happy to see you. I just didn’t expect to see you so soon. I assume you’re husband is doing well?”
“Yes, he’s recuperating nicely. He actually told me to come back to work. So, here I am and I have some great ideas. Got a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
We went to my office and I started to share my ideas with him.
“Ever since the day we went to immunize the children, I’ve been thinking of ways to improve our health program. First of all, we need new vans to function as mobile units in deserted areas. We also need to open small neighborhood clinics in locations far away from the main hospitals. People need to know that they have medical options; we need to be accessible to them and their children. We need to prevent illnesses and detect health problems before it’s too late,” I stated enthusiastically.
Mediteranean Sunset Page 9
