A Family Affair

by Fern Michaels

  “Would I be allowed to see the children if we were divorced?”

  “Unfortunately, the answer is no. We will not divorce, Trish. That is a promise I make to you from my heart. I’m sure we will have as many children as we want. But not right away. We need to spend our first year together. I know this is like a blow to the gut, but it all needed to be said. I know you agree now, but when you are back in the States, you might want to change your mind. I hope that doesn’t happen.”

  “It won’t happen, Malik, because I love you. We’ll make this work for us. I don’t see any other way. Don’t look so somber. It wasn’t that much of a punch to the gut. I more or less thought it would be something like that. I’m marrying you with my eyes wide open. So, now kiss me, and let’s seal our fate.”

  Trish looked deeply into Malik’s eyes and saw only love and honesty. “All right, I agree. But, Malik, what if we have no children?”

  Malik burst out laughing. “I don’t see that happening, do you, Trish? I see us with a large family to love. Let’s start off with two girls who look like you and two boys who look like me.”

  Trish smiled because she knew Malik expected her to smile, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She hadn’t liked this conversation, had known in some way it was coming, but, still, she didn’t like it. Two too many negatives. Please, God, don’t let this be a mistake on my part.

  Trish looked down at her watch. Just minutes until it was time to leave for the airport for her return to the States. Compared to the way Soraya was dressed, she felt like a bag lady. She wore comfortable sandals, linen capris, and a loose-fitting top the color of a misty mountain. Soraya was dressed in one of her many Chanel suits with high heels. Everything about her screamed designer and wealth. She herself had only the one piece of luggage, whereas Soraya had three huge suitcases and two trunks. Where she was going to store these things in Trish’s small town house was a mystery to her.

  She’d tried to explain discreetly that her friends and she herself did not dress up every day. She’d also tried to explain that appointments for facials, massages, manicures, and pedicures had to be made in advance and couldn’t be done daily. If Soraya heard her, it was not evident in her manner. In her gut, she knew Soraya was going to be disappointed in the lifestyle back in Vegas. Then again, maybe not. Malik had taken life in the States in stride and had made it work for him. But by the same token, he had committed to living the college life and wanted to blend in, to be part of it. This was just a vacation for Soraya.

  In the end, Trish had shrugged it off. What would be would be.

  Trish was in the grand center hallway, sitting on a settee and waiting for Soraya, who had returned to her suite to change her shoes one more time, and Malik. She felt sad that she was leaving and yet anxious to return to the life she’d had before coming to Dubai. The plan was that Malik would go to the airport with them, see them off, then go on to Abu Dhabi for meetings.

  Trish looked at her watch again. Time was suddenly so precious. She wished she could wave her arm and stop time, but that wasn’t possible. She had to fight the tears that were burning her eyes.

  Then she saw him striding toward her, and her heart melted. This was only the second time she had seen Malik in his official white robe, the kandura, and with the white scarf, called a ghutra, on his head, complete with the agal, the black band to hold the scarf in place. When she’d seen him the first time, she had been sick and hadn’t really taken it all in. He looked truly regal, imposing as well as important. The first time he had simply been the man who saved her life. Trish felt her heart fluttering in her chest. She blinked as he drew closer, then burst out laughing when she saw the rhinestone belt around his waist. Somehow, she knew in her gut the stones weren’t rhinestones at all but diamonds. How this man tried to please her. She loved him so much, her hair hurt. She said so, and he laughed.

  “What do you think, Trish? Will I make a statement when I walk into my meeting with all the sheiks and emirs?”

  Trish laughed. “Within seconds, you will have them all begging to find out where you got such a . . . conversation piece. On you it looks . . . splendiferous.”

  “I miss you already, and you haven’t even left yet. Please hurry back, and please do not break my heart and change your mind.”

  “You silly man, as if that could ever happen. Never!” Trish said vehemently. “Where is Soraya?”

  “Probably changing her clothes for the tenth time. She wants to look perfect for you, so you aren’t ashamed of her.”

  “Good grief! Tell me that was a joke, Malik.”

  “No joke. Listen to me, Trish. As soon as she gets all her junk in your place, I want you to burn it and buy her a pair of blue jeans, sneakers, and get her a Berkeley Golden Bears T-shirt. Will you do this for me? If you can’t burn her things, when she isn’t looking, give them away. She’s going to make a fool of herself with her highfalutin sense of fashion, and I don’t want to see her hurt. I want her American experience to be genuine.”

  Trish’s eyes popped wide. “Are you serious?”

  “Never more serious, dear one.”

  Trish swallowed hard. “Well, perhaps there is a better way, less drastic, more . . . gentle.”

  “Well, if there is, I’m sure you’ll find it. Ah, here comes the fashion plate now. One can only guess how much that outfit cost.”

  Soraya rushed up to them on her high heels. She took one look at Trish and almost cried. “I am overdressed!”

  “What was your first clue, sister? You are going on a plane ride, a long plane ride. The idea is to be comfortable. You are not going to a movie premiere, where you have to outdo everyone else,” Malik snapped.

  Soraya eyed Trish’s casual clothing and bleated, “I will change. Oh, I can’t change. I have no clothing like Trish’s. What shall I do?”

  “What you always do, cry, whine, and wring your hands,” Malik said. “There is no time. Come. We must leave, or we will be late. The plane will be burning fuel, and I do not like to see waste.” He turned to Trish. “Our city is sixty percent under construction, and traffic is slow, as you have seen since your arrival. My other plane is also sitting on the tarmac, burning fuel.”

  Wringing her hands and blinking away tears, Soraya followed her brother and Trish out to the waiting limousine, where Rashid stood at the open door. He was to accompany Malik as his next in command to Abu Dhabi.

  “What is your problem, little sister?” Rashid asked.

  “My brother tells me I am an embarrassment. I am dressed all wrong for a long plane ride. No one told me. Someone should have told me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  Rashid looked at Malik’s stern face and wisely kept silent, even though he thought Soraya looked quite beautiful. He shrugged as he held the door of the limousine for the two women to get in. He tried not to look at Soraya’s gorgeous legs. What was wrong with him? Why, all of a sudden, was he looking at Malik’s baby sister in such a way? Later, he would try to sort out his thoughts. Much, much later.

  They were driving through the city known as the City of Gold, making small talk about nothing as they made their way to Al Maktoum International Airport. Trish’s thoughts were everywhere but on the trip. She was trying to count the moments she still had with Malik. All she could do was stare across at him and smile. He looked, she thought, as sad as she felt.

  Their driver was an expert at weaving in and out of the congestion, and Rashid remarked that they were making good time.

  “Good time” meant she was that much closer to leaving Malik. Trish’s stomach turned into a hard knot. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Her eyes were burning unbearably. Who knew that love could be so painful?

  Time moved at the speed of light then. In a heartbeat, the limousine was crossing the tarmac, where two private planes waited, both burning fuel. The limousine stopped; Malik and Rashid were out in a nanosecond, followed by Trish and Soraya. They were herded toward the portable steps leading up to the plane.

&nb
sp; Malik stepped back, bowed slightly, reached for Trish’s hands, then kissed them both. They were in public, and in public, there were no displays of passion.

  Tears trickled down Trish’s cheeks. She whispered, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Malik nodded. “I’ll be waiting here, at this exact spot, for you.” He kissed his sister on the cheek. He looked her in the eyes and said, “Do not bring dishonor to our family. Do you understand, little sister?”

  Soraya nodded before she ran up the steps behind Trish. At the doorway, both women waved. One sad, one happy.

  Below the stairs, two men stood waving, both sad.

  Settled inside the plane, Trish looked at Soraya and said, “And now your adventure begins.”

  “I can hardly wait. I will not embarrass you again, Trish. I promise.”

  Trish nodded as she leaned back in the comfortable seat and closed her eyes. She promised herself to think of nothing else but Malik on the flight home. Tr y as she might, the tears came and rolled down her cheeks.

  Soraya reached for Trish’s hand. “The time will go quickly, and before you know it, you will be back here, looking forward to your wedding. My brother loves you more than life itself. He told me this himself. Why, I do not know, because he never tells me things such as that. Maybe he thinks I am finally grown up, and I understand now. Tell me, what did you think of him in his robe?”

  Trish sniffled. “I thought he looked quite handsome. Dashing, actually. He could be a movie star. Like the actor in Lawrence of Arabia. I loved that movie. I must learn Arabic. Is it hard?”

  “About as hard as it was for me to learn English. Do not worry. I will help you. Soon we will be sisters. I have longed forever to have a sister or other siblings.”

  “I’m honored to have you as a sister, Soraya.”

  And then they were airborne. Soraya clapped her hands in glee. “I’m finally going to America. Finally!”

  Chapter 7

  AS TRISH UNBUCKLED HER SEAT BELT, SHE LOOKED OVER AT Soraya. “We’re home! Malik said that he arranged for a car to take us to my place and that customs was taken care of. Are you ready for your big adventure in America?”

  “I am so ready, Trish. I can’t wait to step off this plane and experience everything my brother did when he first got here.”

  “It’s going to be a bit different. Malik was in California and was going to school. It’s a whole different atmosphere. This is Las Vegas, and there is no other place in the world like Vegas. Did you sleep well?”

  “Actually, I did. What time is it? I forgot to set my watch.”

  “Almost midnight. The witching hour. This is the time of night when Vegas really comes alive. Not that we’re going to be seeing it tonight. We’re going home to bed. Tomorrow is a new day. I hope you aren’t disappointed.”

  “It’s the holiday season. How could I be disappointed? I’ve never experienced your holiday. I’m looking forward to it. You must call Malik now to tell him we arrived safely. He will be pacing in his cave like an expecting father. Put him out of his misery so we can get on with it.”

  Trish already had the phone in her hand and was pressing in the digits. She wasn’t the least surprised when Malik picked up on the first ring. “Is it a boy or a girl?” she teased, then explained what Soraya had said.

  “I miss you. I love you so much, my teeth hurt,” Malik said.

  Trish laughed. “That’s my line. We’re on the ground now. They’re loading your sister’s things into the car. I guess they’ll deliver the trunks later, as they won’t fit in the car. I’ve never seen your sister so happy. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.” They made small talk and finally hung up when the driver opened the door for her and Soraya. Soraya got in first, then Trish.

  Homeward bound.

  “It’s cold,” Soraya said. “I know this is your winter. I’ve never seen snow except in the movies. I will have to buy appropriate clothes.”

  “Why waste the money, Soraya? We’re pretty much the same size. You can wear mine. Even though I slept on the plane, I’m tired.”

  “Yes, but I am too excited to sleep. I wish it were daytime so I could see everything.”

  Trish yawned. “Tomorrow is another day. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

  Soraya chattered and giggled the whole way to the town house. She was still chattering when they climbed the steps to the front door. Trish stepped back when she saw and smelled the fragrant evergreen wreath hanging on her front door. Connie. That was so like her. She’d come over, hung the wreath, turned up the heat, and probably changed the sheets on the beds and stocked the refrigerator. A true friend, if ever there was one.

  Trish opened the door. “Welcome to my home, Soraya.” She reached up and turned on the foyer light. Even from where she was standing, she could see the twinkling Christmas tree in the living room. Not only was there a tree, but there were beautifully wrapped packages underneath it, too. The girls. Tears formed in Trish’s eyes. Such good friends.

  “Oh, it smells . . . delicious, just like the wreath on the door. It’s a real tree!” Soraya squealed. “Did your maid do all this, Trish?”

  “Stop right there! There is no maid. My friends did all this to welcome me home. From here on in, you fend for yourself, and that means you carry your own bags to your room and you unpack yourself. You run your own bath or take a shower. You fix your own food, and you clean up after yourself.”

  “Yes, yes, I get it. Just like Malik did. He knows how to do laundry. He knows how to cook and drive a car. I’m going to do everything just the way he did. Do you have any root beer?”

  “I doubt it, but check in the refrigerator. I’m going to have a glass of wine and look at my Christmas tree for a bit. I wish Malik were here to see it. Make yourself at home. Your room is at the top of the stairs, on the right.”

  “I’ll take pictures and send them to Malik right now. He’s not sleeping. This is too good not to share with him. Besides, it will do him good to be jealous of me for a change.” Soraya laughed as she snapped picture after picture.

  At least she’s actually doing something for herself, Trish thought as she poured herself a glass of wine and carried it into the living room. She kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the couch. Her eyes misted over as she stared at the fragrant balsam tree as memories of her childhood flooded through her. First thing in the morning, she had to call her sister.

  The holiday season. The most glorious time of the year, especially in Vegas.

  Half a world away, Malik stared at the pictures he was seeing. He smiled as he remembered many Christmases with his friends when he lived in the States. He adored the picture of Trish smiling as she held her glass of wine aloft for Soraya’s benefit, the colored lights on the Christmas tree beside her. He didn’t know for sure, but he rather thought the tree was a real one, the kind that smelled up the whole place. He wished he were there.

  The first few days after returning to Vegas were busy ones for Trish, but she managed to make time for shopping with Soraya for more suitable clothes, especially jeans, sneakers, sweatshirts, and outerwear. While Trish was busy getting her affairs in order, her friends took Soraya to lunch or sightseeing. They enthralled her with Vegas lore, including lurid tales of Bugsy Siegel and the founding of Las Vegas, and the stories of their lives, and Soraya ate it up whole. Her eyes sparkled and her step was jaunty as she geared up for the Christmas party at the casino and her first night in the audience. It would be Trish’s last night of work. The only reason she’d agreed to dance at all was that Soraya wanted to see her in the chorus line, to see the woman her brother fell in love with from the audience.

  Trish loved the peace and quiet she was experiencing at the moment. Connie had stopped by earlier to, as she put it, “take the girl off your hands for a few hours.” They were going to do lunch and a little Christmas shopping.

  Trish reached for her cell phone to call Emma, then glanced at her watch, mindful that she was three hour
s behind. Something about her sister’s voice on the phone had bothered her when she had called on her return to the States. Time to find out how big sis really was. She pressed the number one on her speed dial. Her sister picked up after two rings.

  “Emmie, it’s me. How’s it going? Can you talk?”

  “Yes, the office is empty. I was just doing some cold calling. I don’t know why I bother. No one wants to buy a house or even rent one during the Christmas season. It’s a way to kill time, I guess. I did get one lady who said to call her after the New Year. With the economy the way it is, I’m not hopeful. What’s shaking in Vegas?”

  “Same old, same old. Is anything wrong, Em? You didn’t sound like yourself when we spoke the other day.”

  “Everything is as good as it’s going to get. Except for Melissa. She doesn’t want to live with me anymore. Says I’m way too strict. I can’t give her a fifty-dollar-a-week allowance, so she wants to live with her father and his new trophy wife. Because she’s already fourteen, a judge will listen to her and go with her choice. Jeff had his attorney send me a letter saying we could do this the easy way or the hard way, meaning he’ll take me to court to get full custody. I’m just going to let her go with him. I don’t have the stomach for another court fight. That means child support stops, and he’ll undoubtedly find a way to stop the spousal support, too. Sooner rather than later.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that the other day, Em?”

  “And ruin your homecoming? Why would I do that? This is my problem, not yours. According to Missy, her father left the firm he was working for and is now working for some big international one, and all he does is travel to the Middle East. She thinks Saudi Arabia and Abu Dhabi sound romantic. That’s another reason I didn’t want to tell her about you and Malik. She brags to all her friends about how important her father is.