Mediteranean Sunset

by Yvette Canoura

  “Three weeks before our trip, she got an emergency call from the hospital. She kissed me goodbye and rushed out. An hour later, they called me to say she never made it to the hospital. She had died instantly in a car accident.”

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” I said, wiping his tears. I was so moved by his story that I couldn’t help wiping my own tears. “I had no right to ask you…”

  “I wanted to tell you, I just wanted to find the right moment,” he said. “I was so devastated by her death. We had so many plans for our life and everything vanished within seconds. I was so haunted by my memories, I just came back home. My family really helped me. I grew closer to God. Allah helped me find my calling in Antarah. So, I went to work at the hospital and you know the rest.”

  “Ayunnee,” I said as I hugged him. ”I’m so sorry. I would do anything to take away your pain.”

  “I never thought I would love again. I thought Heather was the only person who could fill my heart. Then, I met you. You brought hope back into my life; my desire to live. Heather will always be in my heart but now I have you. I love you Fatima, and it hurts to know that I can’t have you all to myself. It hurts to know that life is cheating me out of happiness once again.”

  “You think it’s not killing me inside to know that I love you and I can’t spend the rest of my life with you. I just want to be with you.”

  “So, let’s run off together. Let’s go back to the States,” he said.

  “What about our commitment to the hospital, the children?”

  “What about us?”

  “I’m so afraid of Fouad and what he can do to you. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  “Let’s not rush into anything. Let’s give ourselves time to think. Maybe we could work it out somehow,” I said. “Let’s just enjoy this time as if it were forever. Let’s not burden ourselves with what’s to come. Please.”

  “Whatever you say, habeebtee.”

  “Why don’t you come here and show me how much you love me?” I asked.

  I felt as if my life had just begun. Every moment with Brahim was a discovery of my feelings. Our nights were filled with passion and desire. He was such a thoughtful lover always putting my needs first. When our bodies came together, we became one, body and soul.

  Brahim’s tenderness and understanding made me hope that maybe one day we could be free to love each other without hiding from the world.

  We had our own ritual when we were together; each day, we watched the Mediterranean sunset. It was as if nature prepared this special spectacle just for us. It was stunning. That sunset was our hope that a tomorrow would come and bring us the life we always dreamed of.

  On our fourth night, we made love on the sand under a clear, perfect sky showered with stars. What an amazing experience! Afterwards, we ran naked into the warm ocean water and allowed the gentle motion of the waves to wrap our bodies into a state of ecstasy.

  Later that evening, we went inside and talked for hours. Brahim told me about growing up in Antarah: the culture, people, politics and religion. He compared life in the States with life here. It was fascinating to hear him talk and share his points of view.

  The good doctor never ceased to amaze me. One afternoon while I showered, I heard the sound of what seemed to be a flute. I thought it was a tape. Instead, he was playing the aspeh, a slim, hollow wooden flute traditional to soft Arabic music.

  I decided to surprise him by wearing my belly-dancing outfit. It was a bright purple sequined top with a matching hip belt and a skirt made out of an array of sheer scarves in bright colors. I placed a veil over my hair and secured it with a golden tiara with a purple stone that fell above my nose. I covered my face exposing only my dramatically, made up eyes and sprinkled body glitter on my exposed tanned torso.

  When Brahim saw me, he almost dropped the aspeh. Although he had been playing melancholic tunes, he attempted to pick up the beat allowing me to show off my dancing skills. As I uncovered my face and hair, I brushed his face and arms with the veil. It was my first time belly dancing for a man. It felt very exciting as I seduced him while he devoured me with his eyes. Needless to say, it was a passionate night.

  Every time we made love, we grew closer. This was a level of intimacy I had never experienced; a closeness that is only reached once in a lifetime with that one special person.

  The next morning when I woke up, I realized Brahim wasn’t at the chalet. I went for a walk on the beach and let my mind wander. I was totally happy. This was our magical place; a place where we forgot all our troubles and lived for the moment. When I got back, I found a beautifully wrapped box on my bed.

  “Brahim!” I shouted.

  “Good morning habeebtee,” he said as he kissed me. “I see you’ve found your surprise, open it.”

  When I opened the box, I saw three, golden bangle bracelets.

  “These are gorgeous.”

  “These will represent our past, our present and our future,” he said as he slid them onto my wrist.

  “I will never take them off. They will be a part of me just like you will always be a part of me, the most precious part of me. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he said then kissed me.

  It was hard to believe that time had gone by so fast.

  “A few more days and we will be leaving …”

  “You have another week off, don’t you? Come with me to D.C. It will be great. We will stay at my father’s house. You will get to see where I grew up. Let me share those memories with you,” I said.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to be alone? Don’t you want to visit with friends? Aren’t you going to be busy taking care of your father’s estate? Won’t it be risky?”

  “We’ll be careful. I just want to be with you. I don’t want this feeling to end. Another week together in the States would be amazing.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  I wrapped myself around him and kissed him.

  “Thank you, sweetie,” I said.

  For the next few days we wondered if our trip to D.C. would bring us closer to the truth about Fouad. We hoped my father had left some clues or concrete information that would uncover the secrets behind my marriage.

  Our last Mediterranean sunset was memorable in many ways. The area had been isolated the entire week. On this particular evening, we heard someone shouting for help. I immediately covered my face. Brahim and I rushed to see what was wrong.

  “My son… He’s in the water. He can’t swim; I can’t swim,” he said in despair.

  Brahim rushed into the water and brought the child’s lifeless body to shore.

  “Is he dead?” the man said crying.

  “He’s a doctor,” I said. “He will do whatever it takes to save him.”

  Brahim started aggressively performing C.P.R. It was déjà vu. I remembered how he tried to save my father’s life unsuccessfully. I prayed this time would have a different outcome. Suddenly, water came out of the child’s mouth. He was alive. I ran to the chalet to get his medical bag. Brahim checked his vital signs and everything seemed to be fine.

  “You scared your father to death,” the man told his son as he hugged him then turned to Brahim. “Thank you for saving my son’s life, doctor.”

  “Ibrahim Al-Kateb,” he said extending his hand.

  “Ramsey Janoudi at your service,” the man said shaking Brahim’s hand.

  Unexpectedly, a strong breeze blew my scarf exposing my face. The man looked at me as if he recognized me.

  “How are you feeling?” Brahim asked the child.

  “O.K., I guess,” the boy said.

  “What’s your name?” Brahim asked.

  “Bilal,” he replied

  “Bilal, you gave your father a big scare. You have to be very careful. The currents are strong this time of the year. You shouldn’t stray from your
father if neither one of you can swim well.”

  “I’m really sorry, Baba. Thanks for saving my life, Dr. Ibrahim,” the boy said.

  “If your wife or you ever need anything, you can find me at the eastern border checkpoint office. Just ask for Lieutenant Janoudi,” the man said.

  At that moment, I excused myself and returned to the chalet. Brahim followed shortly after.

  “I think that man recognized me. I don’t know him but I sensed he knew who I was,” I said nervously.

  “Fatima, relax. Even if he does know you, I think he feels indebted to us. I don’t think he would say anything unless he was one hundred percent certain. Just let it go. I don’t want you worrying about this.”

  “Just hold me tight.”

  A Trip To D.C.

  We left the chalet before dawn and headed to our next adventure: Washington D.C. We decided not to sit side by side on the plane. It was best to keep our distance. Before arriving to D.C., we had arranged to take separate cabs and meet at my house. That way no one could make any connection between us. It was a long, lonely trip but we knew it would pay off with another five days of loving each other without constantly looking over our shoulders.

  The house looked just like it had on the day I left. Everything was in its place. As per my request, the refrigerator had been fully stocked and the pool was pristine. It felt great being back home. When Brahim arrived, I showed him around. He was very impressed with what he saw.

  “And this is my room…” I said.

  “Nice,” he replied.

  “Nothing has changed except for the fact that this is the first time a man, other than my father, has been in my room.”

  “Well, let’s make this first time unforgettable,” he said as he started to undress me.

  “I missed you so much,” I said. “That plane ride seemed to drag on for forever.”

  “I couldn’t wait to hold you again.”

  It felt odd making love in my old bedroom; the same bedroom where I had envisioned my future life with the man of my dreams. Brahim was the realization of those dreams. Now, we were both here sharing an incredible moment.

  After our blissful encounter, we showered together and went downstairs in our robes. I proceeded to disrobe his chest area and rub his shoulders with oil.

  “So, how does it feel being back in the States?” I asked.

  “I haven’t given it much thought. Being with you is all I care about no matter where we are. This back rub is just what the doctor ordered.”

  “The doctor’s order is my command. You know, there is something I already miss from back home…our Mediterranean sunsets,” I said.

  “Me too,” he said as he grabbed my body, sat me on his lap and kissed my lips. “Our sunsets will always be waiting for us, though. We’ll return to the chalet soon enough.”

  That evening we ordered Chinese food and watched television. We fell asleep on the sofa in each other’s arms, exhausted after a grueling day of travel.

  The next morning I woke him up with a kiss.

  “Good morning, sleepy head.”

  “Good morning, habeebtee.”

  “I have to meet with my father’s attorney this morning, but after that the day is ours. Ayunnee, what are your plans?

  “Oh, just watch some television, catch up on my soaps…” he said laughing.

  “Be ready by noon and we’ll take in the sights.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Please don’t open the door for anyone. I told the attorney not to have the realtor show the house this week. So, no one should be coming around. Sorry, I have to rush. I love you,” I said kissing him good- bye.

  “I love you too, baby. Have a good day,” he replied.

  As I drove to see the lawyer, I just wished Baba and Mama were alive to see how happy I was. In a way, it was comforting to know that my father had met Brahim, if only that one night. I could tell by my father’s body language that he liked him, even though their encounter was brief.

  I anticipated the meeting at the law office not to be long. I knew we would be discussing the will. My father had the D.C. home, a car, and a life insurance policy. I had always thought of my father as a lavish spender. Hence, I expected to use some of the money from the insurance policy to pay whatever debts he had incurred. His legacy to me was our home; the place where we made our memories, where I grew up, where I spent the last moments with my mother. Nothing else mattered. Although I had always lived a comfortable life, money wasn’t a priority. I would give up all my wealth just to spend my life with Brahim; if it were only that easy.

  “Did my father leave a letter addressed to me?” I asked impatiently.

  “No,” the attorney responded. ”All I have is his last will and testament, which he updated right before going to visit you. I remember he was very anxious to see you.”

  “No keys to a safe…?”

  “I’m afraid not. Only the papers in front of me.”

  “Let’s get down to business then.”

  As he started reading, all the special moments with my father flashed before my eyes. I tried to be strong, but I couldn’t avoid wiping the tears that rolled down my cheeks until something the attorney said made me pause.

  “… and my villa in Tuscany, Italy, the money in my three international bank accounts, totaling over 20 million dollars, and all money from a list of overseas investments…” the attorney read.

  “Stop,” I said baffled. “Is this a joke?”

  “No, Ms. Aziz. Your father was a very wealthy man.”

  “An ambassador’s salary could not provide all this, especially the way he used to throw away his money.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, but your father had always invested his money to guarantee you and your mother’s well being. After your mother’s passing, he made sure that you would become a very wealthy woman. He also stipulated the sum of one million dollars over a period of 5 years for Ms. Jamila Musa, whom he loved like a daughter.”

  “Did my father ever discuss my husband Fouad with you? Did Fouad know what he could expect to gain?”

  “The subject of your husband never came up.”

  “I just don’t understand how my father accumulated such a fortune and how I was kept in the dark until now.”

  “You are a fortunate woman,” the attorney said.

  “If only wealth could buy happiness…”

  I left with more questions than answers. I had always seen my father as a diplomat, not a businessman. I couldn’t grasp the idea that he had earned this fortune. I had many doubts regarding how he made his money. I wondered if Fouad knew about his wealth. Furthermore, did Fouad know the secrets behind it? What was the connection, if any?

  When I got back to the house, I ran into Brahim’s arms.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Everything,” I said.

  “What happened at the lawyer’s?”

  “I found out that I’m very well off, and my gut tells me that the money wasn’t all hard earned cash.”

  “I don’t know what to say. You know God has a plan for all of us. Just think about the great things you can do to help others. This can be a true blessing.”

  “Or a curse…I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m just so confused. I have doubts about how my father came into his fortune. I even have the crazy idea that Fouad has known about this all along.”

  “That he married you for your money?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first man to do so.”

  “Isn’t he well off? I’m sure he is in a position to become a very wealthy man.”

  “You don’t know Fouad. For someone like him, there is never enough money. I could be his added insurance policy.”

  “Did the attorney bring Fouad up in conversation?”

  “I brought him up. The attor
ney said my father never discussed him. The only other person who was brought up was Jamila. She has been like a sister to me.”

  “Maybe Fouad is unaware of your father’s business affairs.”

  “Let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air. I don’t want to think anymore.”

  We took my father’s car and a camera. I wanted to document our trip. I put all my troubles aside for that afternoon. I let my hair down, literally, and decided not to wear my scarf while we were on vacation. Brahim didn’t mind me showing off my hair. He felt it was a personal decision and left it up to me. I just wanted to feel free in every way like the good old days: the days when it would never have crossed my mind that my father could be involved in criminal activities.

  We drove for a while then went to the Washington Monument and both the Lincoln and Vietnam Memorials. We also rode the carousel at the National Mall. During the next few days, we went to the White House, the U.S. Capitol, the Jefferson Memorial, the National Gallery of Art and the Kennedy Center. I had visited all of these places with my father as a child and, now as an adult, I was reliving my memories with Brahim. Our days were filled with activities. I wanted Brahim to enjoy himself and get to know me more by sharing a piece of my history with him. I also wanted to escape all my negative thoughts; my fears of discovering that my father wasn’t who I thought he was.

  One afternoon, I packed a picnic basket and we went to the Great Falls of the Potomac; it was a spectacular sight. After lunch, we rented a couple of bicycles and hit the trails along the river. We were having a lovely time getting to know each other day by day. Every once in a while, we would stop someone and ask them to take our picture.

  “Are you enjoying yourself so far?” I asked.

  “You’re a great tour guide. D.C. is a great place. There are so many things to do. I truly wish we could stay longer,” he said.

  “I know. First, the chalet and now D.C. We’ve had some amazing moments in such a short time.”

  “This is a taste of what our life could be like if we take a chance.”

  “We have to keep looking for anything that could help set me free. No one wants this more than I do.”