Suddenly, I came face to face with my precious camel collection. Those were the mementos that captured my relationship with Baba. With one forceful swipe, I watched each figurine fall and break into tiny pieces just like Baba had broken my heart when he handed me over to that monster I called a husband.
Would I ever forgive Baba for what my life had become especially now that he had taken my hopes, my dreams and my answers to the grave?
The ring from the phone snapped me out of it. It was Nabil who felt the urgency to share his last conversation with Baba. I really didn’t want to talk but I didn’t want to hurt Jamila by hanging up on her husband, so I listened.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Your father had been in New York running some tests on his heart. The doctors had told him he needed open- heart surgery and he chose to postpone the operation until after his trip. He was afraid to die without seeing you one more time. I thought you’d want to know.”
I was emotionless even though I knew that my inquiries about Fouad had forced Baba to come to Antarah and neglect his health. Maybe I was to blame but I was blinded by hate.
The next morning, Fouad called to offer his sympathy. I guess this constituted a real emergency. I told Samira to take a message, to tell him I took some sleeping pills or something. He said he’d be back for the funeral that evening.
With no sleep and no desire to be social, I put on a black dress and scarf to tend to a house full of people, mostly strangers, offering their condolences.
Everyone was very concerned about me particularly Jamila, who loved Baba as her own. She probably thought she was the only one who could understand my loss oblivious to the fact that I was responsible for his death and felt no remorse about it.
Throughout the day, I received several telegrams and phone calls from Washington D.C. including a call from the President of the United States who was a close friend.
As the men were ready to head to the cemetery, Fouad arrived.
“My dearest Fatima, I’m so sorry about your father. He was a good man. My father always held him with great regards. It’s truly a terrible loss,” he said.
“Thanks for coming. I know you are breaking military protocol just to be by my side,” I said.
“I know how hard it is to lose a father. I lost both my parents within a short period of time,” he said as his eyes watered. This was probably the only sincere statement that had come out of his mouth since we met.
For a few seconds, I actually felt sorry for him until my heart started holding him responsible for what had happened.
I was relieved that I did not have to go with them. Baba was going to be buried next to Mama and they would be together again. I wondered how many of his secrets she had taken to the grave or was she a victim like me.
Right before they left to the cemetery, Dr. Ibrahim came to pay his respects. His presence meant a lot. I yearned for him to hold me and tell me that everything would be all right. Instead, Fouad kissed me goodbye.
“Don’t forget, if you need anything call Rauf,” he insisted.
Right after the body was laid to rest, Fouad was gone.
The crowd came back to the house where Samira had prepared food and coffee for everyone. People praised Baba’s accomplishments and remembered his relationship with Mama and how much they longed for a child. Through it all, I sat calmly listening. Even President Saeed told us some stories about Baba that put a smile on everybody’s face but mine. At this point, I just wanted everyone to leave and be alone.
I was exhausted. So, I excused myself and went to my room. As I undressed, I realized there was a camel figurine on my dresser with a note.
“Dear Fatme:
I had a local D.C. artist make this camel just for you. I thought it would be a nice addition to your collection. Always follow your heart because Mama and I will be there to guide you. Love, Baba”
This was the first time that I yelled.
“Why?” I cried inconsolably. “Why did you take the only person I had left in this world?” I looked up defying God.
I cried for days and even though Jamila and Samira tried to comfort me, for several weeks my life was consumed by guilt and regrets. I was so depressed that I hardly ate and mostly slept all day.
Jamila brought little Ramee over on a daily basis to cheer me up while Dalal kept me informed on Dr. Ibrahim’s progress with our project. She encouraged me to return to work because I was missed and needed at the hospital, but nothing lifted my spirits.
“Dr. Ibrahim keeps asking about you. He is concerned. I think he misses his working partner. He is under a lot of pressure trying to get the project off the ground, keeping up with his patient load and performing surgeries at the hospital. He needs you. You can’t throw away all your hard work. You have to keep your dreams alive. That’s what your father would have wanted,” Dalal said.
“I appreciate your words. I just don’t know how to keep living. Baba was the only one who could unmask Fouad. Now, I don’t know what I’m up against. Baba was my lifeline. Now, he’s gone. I’m all alone,” I said.
“That’s not true. You have your friends; you have Jamila and me, who are like your sisters. You have Dr. Ibrahim…” she insisted.
“Dr. Ibrahim is an impossibility. My only hope of happily ever after disappeared with Baba. He took his secrets to the grave and now I may never know who Fouad really is.”
“You have to focus on your commitment to the people of Antarah. Remember the poor, the children, the sick; remember how Allah blessed you with the knowledge and the contacts to make a difference. You have to fight the fight and ask God to guide your future. Allah never abandons us.”
“Are you sure about that? I feel deserted by Allah.”
“Allah is always with you and He will give you the strength to get out of bed and start rebuilding your life. Just have faith, Fatima.”
“It’s not that simple. I’m not good for anyone right now. I need more time to sort out my life. I need more time to mourn my loss; to feel sorry for myself. I’m so tired. I’m not giving up; I’m just not there yet,” I said holding back the tears and giving her a hug. “Take care of yourself and thank you for being a good friend.”
“He asks about you,” Dalal whispered in my ear as she hugged me back.
The Love Affair
I woke up determined to start living again and seek answers to all the questions that kept haunting me. I headed to work. I felt guilty that I had abandoned Brahim and our projects.
As I settled into my office, the door behind me closed.
“Welcome back,” Dr. Ibrahim said as he hugged me tight. “I really missed you.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tried to blurt out as he caressed my lips with his.
I didn’t know what had gotten into him and I didn’t care. The kiss was magical, like a dream, an out of body experience. I felt as if I had never been kissed until that moment. Five minutes, ten minutes, I lost track of time. It was so breathtaking that I could have stayed in that moment forever.
“Wow! Don’t stop,” I said.
“It’s too risky,” Dr. Ibrahim replied.
“Do you regret what just happened?”
“Of course not. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you. I’ve replayed this moment in my mind thousands of times. I just didn’t anticipate that it would exceed my expectations,” he said giving me that charming smile.
“Come here,” I said extending my arms. “Just hold me a little longer. I missed you so much. I just couldn’t bare the thought of seeing you and not being able to express myself like I just did. I also owe you an apology because I never thanked you for everything you tried to do to save my father. I truly appreciated your efforts.”
“I would have done anything to spare you that pain.”
“I know that.”
“I thought I might not see y
ou again. I asked Dalal about you, discretely of course.”
“She told me. I just needed time. Thanks for giving it to me.”
“So, are you ready for some good news?” Dr. Ibrahim asked.
“Always,” I replied.
“The fundraiser was a tremendous success. We were able to purchase all ten vans. I’ve already signed leases for seven clinic locations and this week I received the government funds to start equipping them. I’ve also gotten firm commitments from my colleagues to volunteer. Everything is going as planned,” he said.
“You are truly amazing,” I said.
“Thanks,” he paused. “Is Fouad still out of town?”
“Are you sure you want to.” I attempted to ask until he put his finger over my lips.
“The question is are you sure?”
“Why don’t we go to that quaint restaurant where we had lunch last time and talk about this a little more?”
“I think it’s an excellent idea. I’ll clear my schedule for the rest of the afternoon.”
On the way to the restaurant, we held hands in the car and gazed into each others eyes every opportunity we had. I felt like I was going on my first date. I was so scared yet so excited. When we got to the restaurant, we asked to be seated where we could have some privacy.
“Brahim,”
“I love when you say my name,” he interrupted.
“We are really taking a big risk. I’m a married woman. I don’t know if I will ever be able to get a divorce. You are young, handsome, a doctor, why me? You could have any woman you want. I see the way all the single women at the hospital look at you. You can do so much better than me; someone uncomplicated who can devote herself to making you happy. I just can’t do that. Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t.”
“I don’t want any other woman. I want you. I never thought I could ever feel this way about anyone after my wife’s passing but then you came along and you changed my life,” he asserted.
“Are you willing to die for this love? Because you know that if anyone finds out about us, Fouad will kill both of us.”
“I was dead before I met you. I was going through the motions. I love my job but it isn’t enough. When we met, you brought the spark back; you gave me a reason to wake up every morning.”
“You did the same for me. I tried to keep my marriage together but after so many betrayals, I gave up. I felt like dying and the thought of you kept me alive.”
I could hear a bit of commotion in the background as if someone important had arrived.
“What a surprise!” Rauf said walking towards our table. “I’m so glad to see you Fatima, Dr. Ibrahim.”
“Rauf, what a pleasant coincidence,” I said. “Today was my first day back at work, so Dr. Al-Kateb brought me to lunch to share all the progress he’s made with our project.”
“I’ve heard things are going great with that,” Rauf replied.
“Yes, everything is running smoothly, especially now that Mrs. Aziz is back with us,” Dr. Ibrahim said. “How’s the president doing?”
“He’s great, thanks for asking,” Rauf replied. “I spoke to Fouad yesterday. He’s doing well. I’ll have to tell him that you are looking well and that you’re back to work. Have you spoken to him lately?”
“No. He told me not to expect any phone calls for a while just an occasional letter. When you speak to him, tell him that I miss him and can’t wait for him to come home,” I said.
“Well, it was a pleasure but I have to run. My group is waiting,” Rauf said.
“Take care Rauf, send our regards to your father,” I said. After he left I continued. “This is exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about. We have to be extremely careful. You never know who can be watching.”
“We’ll be careful.”
When we got back to the hospital, we found out Dalal had given birth to a little girl, Sarah. Both mother and daughter were doing fine. Her husband was by her side full of excitement. My dreams of motherhood had started to fade.
After a few weeks of long working hours, our project was finally up and running. Brahim was long overdue for a vacation and invited me to go with him for a week. This was a big step and I wasn’t sure if I was ready. My brain gave me all the reasons why I shouldn’t go through with it but my heart wanted to discover the meaning of true love. I gave instructions to Samira on how to handle anyone calling for me including the remote possibility of a call from Fouad. I also covered my bases with Jamila, Dalal, and a few other close friends. I told all of them that I needed to go to Washington to put all of my father’s affairs in order; that I needed some time away in a different environment.
I contacted my father’s attorney in Washington D.C. and told him I would rather lease than sell our home. I couldn’t part with my childhood memories. I also told him that if anyone called asking about me this week, he was to tell them that I was tied up in meetings pertaining to my father’s businesses. He was to contact me on my cell phone, a number that only Samira and he knew, if anyone inquired about me.
Although my father’s lawyer was taking care of most of my father’s last wishes, I was planning a trip to D.C. the week after embarking on my dangerous adventure.
I went on a modest shopping spree and bought a bathing suit and a few revealing articles of clothing. I saw a beautiful belly-dancing outfit and I remembered my mom. I thought it would be fun to try it on. I loved the way it looked on me, so I bought it. I also purchased a black, strict Muslim garment that covered all of my body and a khimar, which is similar to a scarf to conceal my entire head. It had a built-in thin net over my eyes to allow me to see and breathe. This was the safest way to disguise my identity.
I didn’t know where we were going but it was almost summertime and very warm. I packed light; just the bare essentials and the few extra things I had shopped for. I had our chauffeur drive me to the airport. I then entered a restroom, changed into my black garment and waited for Brahim. When I saw him, I walked up and told him to walk towards the car and I would follow. I was terrified yet exhilarated by it. I kept my face covered until we left the city. But I kept a scarf over my head, just in case I was forced to cover my face quickly. Brahim then pulled over on the side of the road and started kissing me.
“I feel I’m in a dream.”
“It’s not a dream. This is real,” he said kissing me again.
“So, where are we going?”
“We are going to my chalet on the beach. It’s my favorite place in the whole world. I bought it when I returned to Antarah. It was the property I always wanted to own here. It’s modest, probably not like the places you are used to, but it’s my retreat; where I go to think, to meditate, to dream. It’s a two-hour drive and its location is somewhat isolated. It would be far enough so that no one would recognize you.”
“It sounds perfect. I’m just ecstatic you would want to share it with me,” I said squeezing his hand. “Brahim, tell me everything about you.”
“I come from a very tight knit family. Both my mother and father are alive and have a very close relationship. I have six brothers and three sisters. I’m the middle child. I’m the only one who left Antarah and now I’m back.”
“Why did you leave Antarah?”
“I wanted more. I had a dream of becoming a doctor. I don’t know if you are familiar with our educational system but here, the government assigns you a major to study in college based on your high school grade point average. I was five points below what I needed to study medicine. Instead, the government had chosen engineering as my future career. Frustrated, I headed to the U.S. Embassy in hopes of getting a visa. I guess it was meant to be because two months later, on my 19th birthday, I arrived in the land of opportunity.”
“What a great story. I’m sure your family was so happy for you but at the same time saddened by your decision to leave.”
&n
bsp; “It wasn’t easy on any of us but I felt I could give them a better life if I pursued my goals in the States”
“Tell me more.”
“Are you sure I’m not boring you?”
“Never,” I said kissing his hand.
“I started at a small community college studying English as a second language. I had studied English here but I knew there was much more to learn if I wanted to be accepted into Boston University.”
“Oh my God! I went to Smith College in Northampton. I can’t believe we were less than two hours away. One weekend a month, my friends and I used to hang out in Boston. Who knows how many times our paths crossed?”
“That’s truly incredible. I guess it really is a small world. Smith, isn’t that an all girl college?”
“Only the best for a strict Muslim girl. So, what happened next?”
“I got accepted to B.U. with a full scholarship. After three years, I applied to their Medical School and got accepted. It’s not the norm but I fulfilled all of their requirements. Another six years, including my fellowship, and I was a bona fide doctor. During and after my two year fellowship, I worked at the Franciscan Children’s Hospital,” he said modestly.
“Wow! Why pediatric surgery?”
“I love children and I love challenges.”
“So, was I a challenge?”
“No, you were the impossible. I still can’t believe that this is happening.”
At this point we had already been driving for about an hour and we made a quick stop to get something to drink. Before we got out of the car, we kissed several times. We couldn’t stop staring at each other. We couldn’t believe we were together at last. We got some drinks and snacks and kept going.
“Now, it’s your turn,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Tell me about you.”
Mediteranean Sunset Page 12
