Hearts Afire

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  They were making an announcement over the intercom. The cruise director called for passengers who were taking part in the shore excursions. They were docked in Rabat, and their floating hotel would be there for the next thirty-six hours. After rising from the bed, she moved into the bathroom to dress, knowing Zak was down in the dining room, ready and waiting for her.

  She was dressed in a casual white pantsuit that she’d paired with a simple gray T-shirt as she made her way into the room and toward the table where Zak sat. A dark gray scarf was loosely wrapped around her neck, and her hair was pulled back into a tight braid down her back. He nodded approvingly.

  Maitlyn was surprised to see him out of his requisite dark suit. Zak looked dashing in linen pants and a traditional Moroccan tunic with a banded collar. Both were the color of butter, and his top was lightly embroidered in an intricate pattern of gold-and-brown threads. She smiled sweetly as she dropped down into the seat beside him.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly.

  Zak returned the look she was giving him. “Good morning. You were sleeping soundly when I left.”

  “You always steal away when I’m snoring.”

  He nodded. “That’s true.”

  She giggled. “You were supposed to say that I didn’t snore.”

  He laughed. “Except that you do snore. Loudly.”

  Maitlyn laughed again. “I do not!”

  Zak changed the subject as he gestured for the waiter. “Are you hungry? We’ll need to be moving soon. It’s almost three hours by train from here to Meknes.”

  “I’m actually too nervous to eat,” she said.

  Zak smiled. “Don’t be nervous. We’ll have a very nice time.”

  “I didn’t doubt that. I always have a good time with you. It’s just that we’re going to see your parents. That’s a big thing, Zakaria.”

  He chuckled. “I imagine it is.”

  “Just wait until I take you to meet my parents. Then you’ll understand what I’m talking about.”

  “I’ve already met your parents,” Zak said nonchalantly.

  “When did you meet my parents?” she asked with surprise.

  “Kendrick introduced us last year when they came to visit him in Paris. I believe they were there for their anniversary. We all had dinner together at Chez Chartier.”

  Maitlyn’s eyes darted back and forth. She knew her parents had spent time in Paris with her brother, but she didn’t recall her mother ever mentioning that she had met any of his friends. If her mother had met Zak, she couldn’t imagine Katherine not being excited to share that little bit of information with all her single daughters. Then Maitlyn remembered, she had still been married.

  Zak laughed. “Your mother likes me. Your father, too, I think.”

  Shaking her head, Maitlyn laughed with him. If only things would be that easy for her with his folks. She drank a quick cup of coffee and ate a bowl of oatmeal and bananas. When Zak had finished his eggs and toast, they grabbed their overnight bag and headed to the train station.

  * * *

  Zak spoke perfect Arabic and had no problems maneuvering them through the train station to purchase tickets. They traveled in a first-class train car with two other passengers. The train meandered its way toward Meknes and his family home. As he stared out the window toward the familiar terrain, a look of homesickness flashed across his face. It was brief, just a quick hint past the many walls Zak kept in place to shield himself from others.

  The countryside from Rabat to Meknes was a slow descent that took them from sea level up into the hills. Maitlyn snapped pictures as Zak fell into a state of reverie, memories clouding his thoughts. He withdrew slightly, seeming disinterested in any conversation, so she let him be and chatted instead with a lovely Asian couple vacationing from New York. The two-plus hours flew by quickly, and when the train came to a stop in Meknes both Zak and Maitlyn took deep breaths.

  Meknes, known as the “Versailles of Morocco,” was one of Morocco’s most striking imperial cities. Home to a beautiful blend of diverse and distinct cultures, Meknes was a nice representation of a very modern Morocco.

  After hailing a taxi, Zak served as her tour guide, pointing out the bustling Ville Nouvelle, the labyrinthine Medina and a host of relaxing plazas and green spaces. With its many palaces, mosques, gardens, lakes, granaries and stables, Meknes was a dream city.

  He pointed to a gathering of boys tossing a Hacky Sack between them. “That was me, many, many years ago,” he said. His smile was wide, the first Maitlyn had seen since they’d disembarked. It warmed her spirit, moving her to smile with him. He continued to point out all the tourist treasures until the taxi pulled up in front of a large home with meticulous landscaping.

  Maitlyn’s nerves shifted into overdrive, and her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. Zak dropped a hand to her knee and caressed it gently. “Relax,” he said. “This is my home. We will stay here tonight. My parents live close by. We’ll walk over once we get settled.” He paid the taxi driver, tipping the man generously.

  Maitlyn let out a sigh of relief as she followed behind him, her eyes skating across the magnificent home. Zak led her up the steps to the door of the white stone structure. It had a circular turret in front and a large bay window. A gray-haired old man threw the door open, greeting him warmly in Arabic.

  Zak gestured in her direction, saying something she didn’t understand. The old man nodded as he bowed repeatedly and reached for the bag in her hand. “Maitlyn, this is Solomon. Solomon takes care of the property when I’m not here. If you need anything, just let him know.”

  She smiled and nodded as she greeted him warmly. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

  Solomon continued to bob his head up and down.

  Zak laughed. “Don’t let him fool you. He understands English perfectly.”

  The old guy winked at her and turned, disappearing down a short length of hallway.

  Maitlyn spun in place, taking in the views, as she moved from room to room. The decor was traditional, but the amenities were clearly upscale. The home was beautiful, and she told Zak so.

  “Thank you. I don’t get the opportunity to visit as much as I would like.”

  “Maybe things can change?” Maitlyn questioned. “Maybe this a turning point for you.”

  He moved to her side and kissed her forehead. “Let’s make it a turning point for us both since it will soon be our home.”

  The ringing of a telephone stalled their conversation. Solomon came rushing back into the living space to answer it. His conversation was curt and quick. After hanging up, he relayed a message to Zak.

  Zak took a deep breath, annoyance creasing his brow. He met her curious gaze. “My mother is waiting for us,” he said.

  Solomon corrected him. “His mother, she is expecting Zakaria. Zakaria never brought a woman home before.” He tossed Maitlyn a look, as if he was forewarning her.

  Maitlyn nodded her head. “Thank you, Solomon.” She shifted her gaze to Zak, her eyebrows raised. “She doesn’t know I’m coming?”

  Zak smiled, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “It’s not funny!” Maitlyn exclaimed. “There is absolutely nothing funny about this, Zakaria.”

  Both Zak and Solomon chuckled warmly.

  Maitlyn shook her head. “Why don’t you point me in the direction of the restroom so I can freshen up before we surprise your mother,” she said, her tone brusque.

  Zak smiled and nodded, still chuckling as Solomon rushed to show her the way.

  Minutes later the two were slowly strolling the streets, then rounding the corner toward the center of town.

  Zak had gone quiet again, but this time Maitlyn wasn’t having it. “Why wouldn’t you call your mother to tell her we were coming?”

  “It wasn’t necess
ary.” He cut an eye at her.

  “Even Solomon thought it might have been necessary.”

  “Solomon is afraid of my mother.”

  “Well, that makes me feel better,” Maitlyn said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

  “There is nothing for you to worry about, Maitlyn. I am not afraid of my mother.”

  “Well, I am. In fact, I’m terrified, and I haven’t met her yet.”

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. Mindful of where they were, Maitlyn knew that any public displays of affection would not be looked on kindly. She squeezed back, then pulled her hand from his.

  “Solomon said that you’ve never brought a woman home. Did your mother never meet Debra?”

  He glanced at her. “She did. But I never brought Debra to Meknes. They met while we were visiting my sister in London.”

  “Did your mother like her? I know she wasn’t happy about her religion, but did she like her at all?”

  Zak sighed. He lifted his hand to acknowledge a group of elderly men who were eyeing them both curiously. When he called out in Arabic, the gathering waved excitedly, their gestures clearly welcoming him home. Just when Maitlyn was wondering if he planned to completely ignore her question, he answered.

  “My mother was not happy about our relationship, but she had great respect for Debra and the work she did. Both being in the medical field gave them common ground.”

  Maitlyn nodded. Before she could ask anything else, he pointed her through the gates of a large property. Beyond the gates led them into a narrow alleyway and then to an old wooden door. She pointed to a sign against the gate; the text was in Arabic.

  Zak translated it for her. “It says Riad Sayed, or loosely translated, Home of the Sayed Family.”

  Nodding, Maitlyn took a deep breath. She pulled at the gray scarf that was twisted around her neck. After unwinding it, she stretched it easily in front of her. She draped it over her head and crossed it beneath her chin, allowing the ends to fall over her shoulders and down her back. Zak stared as she adjusted her suit jacket. When she was done, she tossed him an easy smile. He pressed a hand to her cheek and leaned in to kiss her lips.

  As they stepped through the door, into the center courtyard, Maitlyn stared in awe. The home was a palace, large and expansive. The courtyard was exquisite, everything in full bloom. There was an extraordinary fountain that bubbled softly with flowing water into the center of a large pool, lemon trees heavy with fruit and lush greenery that had a tropical feel. The building itself was square with two levels, and the entire upper level had a balcony that ran its circumference, overlooking the garden from all sides. It was beautiful.

  “Is this where you grew up?” Maitlyn asked.

  Zak nodded. “My sister and I use to play down here,” he said softly.

  A stern voice called to him from across the way. “Zakaria? Is that you son?”

  “It is, Ommah. How are you?” he asked.

  Maitlyn turned to stare as Zakaria’s mother sauntered toward them. The woman was nearly as tall as Zak. Her skin was the color of black ice and smooth as silk. Her features were chiseled, her cheekbones high and her lips full. She wore a royal-blue kaftan exquisitely detailed with beads and embroidery, and as it billowed around her lean frame, she reminded Maitlyn of the supermodel Alek Wek walking the runway. She was beautiful. Zak had inherited his mother’s eyes, the orbs deep and dark, and her cheekbones. She imagined his other features had to be from his father.

  Maitlyn observed from close by as Zak’s mother wrapped him in a warm embrace, hugging him to her tightly. There was no mistaking that she had missed having her only son near to her. She pulled back, still clutching him by the shoulders as she stared, her eyes taking in every one of his features as though she was memorizing each crease and dimple. She pulled him back to her.

  “I have missed you, Zakaria.”

  Zak tilted his head ever so slightly. “I have missed you, too, Ommah.”

  She tossed a glance in Maitlyn’s direction, appearing slightly taken aback by the woman’s presence. “Who do we have here?” she asked, looking from Zak to her and back.

  “Ommah, I want you to meet Maitlyn Boudreaux. Maitlyn, this is my mother, Dr. Grace Sayed.”

  His mother nodded, moving to stand in front of Maitlyn. “Boudreaux? Are you related to Kendrick, my Zakaria’s dear friend?”

  Maitlyn nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Kendrick is my brother.”

  “How delightful! We just adore your brother! And what a beautiful name, Maitlyn.”

  Maitlyn smiled. “Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Sayed.”

  “Please, call me Grace, dear,” she said as she hugged Maitlyn easily.

  Maitlyn smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Come sit,” Dr. Sayed ordered. “I have mint tea and almond cookies waiting for you,” she said as she turned, leading the way to a table in the corner of the garden.

  Zak gestured for Maitlyn to follow behind his mother. “Where’s Baba?” Zak asked.

  “He should be back soon. He went to the mosque for prayer earlier. I have no doubt he is still there with the men talking about nothing important.”

  Zak smiled, cutting an eye toward Maitlyn.

  Dr. Sayed poured them all a cup of mint tea and then took the seat next to her son. “So, my child, you are home. To what do we owe the honor?”

  “I wanted Maitlyn to see Meknes and to meet you and Baba,” he said.

  His mother looked from him to her. “She must be special then,” she said, her gaze meeting Maitlyn’s.

  “She is,” Zak said matter-of-factly. “Maitlyn is very important to me.”

  Maitlyn smiled, noting the head-to-toe look his mother was giving her. Before his mother could respond, his father’s voice boomed through the space. “Zakaria! Son! Welcome home!”

  Zak jumped to his feet, his wide smile warming his face. “Baba!” he exclaimed as the men threw themselves into each other’s arms. “It’s good to see you, Baba.”

  Hassan Sayed kissed both his son’s cheeks, then hugged him tightly a second time. Zak and his father looked more like brothers than father and son. Zak’s warm complexion was only a hint darker than his father’s pale caramel tone. He had his father’s wavy black hair, succulent mouth and chiseled jawline.

  “And this must be Maitlyn,” Hassan Sayed chimed, moving to shake Maitlyn’s hand and kiss both her cheeks. “My son has told me much about you. Welcome to our home.”

  Maitlyn tossed Zak a quick look. His mother’s eyebrows were also raised, curiosity wrinkling her brow.

  “Thank you for having me, Mr. Sayed. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You are as beautiful as my son said you were.”

  Maitlyn blushed. “Thank you.”

  Dr. Sayed cleared her throat. “I guess I was not home for that conversation,” she said, tossing her husband a harsh look.

  Mr. Sayed laughed, waving a dismissive hand at her. “My son and I talk about things a father and his son should share. He’s a man now, not a baby who tells his ommah his secrets.”

  Clearly annoyed Dr. Sayed rolled her eyes. She took a sip of her tea and reached for a cookie. “Maitlyn, you must try the almond cookies. They are Zakaria’s favorite,” she said.

  After taking a bite of the sweet offered to her, Maitlyn savored the delicate flavor of the cookie. “Mmm! They’re very good.”

  “How long will you be in Meknes?” his father asked.

  “We leave in the morning,” Zak said, explaining that they had come in on the cruise ship and that he had one more night of tournament play.

  His mother waved her hand. “You need to give up that foolishness and come home. You should be settled down with children of your own by now,” she chastised.

  “Soon, Ommah,” Zak said.
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br />   His father laughed warmly.

  “Well, we have room here for you and we can make arrangements at the riad on the corner for Maitlyn. I do not think they have any tourists staying tonight,” Dr. Sayed said.

  “That won’t be necessary. I had Solomon air out the house. Maitlyn and I are already settled in,” Zak said.

  His mother didn’t respond, but her jaw tightened and her expression showed her displeasure. “I’ll call and make sure Solomon airs out both bedrooms. And he should stay to chaperone. We do not want anyone to think there is anything inappropriate going on,” she said.

  Zak met his mother’s gaze. A wry smiled pulled at his lips. “You do that, Ommah,” he said.

  Grace’s smile was strained. “So, tell me, Maitlyn. How is your brother?”

  “He’s doing very well, ma’am. Thank you for asking.”

  “He was very nice, your brother. And respectful. I think he went to the mosque with Zakaria and his father, although your family is not Muslim—is that correct?”

  Maitlyn took a deep breath. “No, ma’am, we are not.”

  She grunted.

  Mr. Sayed shook his head. “We are having a feast to welcome you home,” he said. “This is a good day for an old man!”

  “It’s a small affair,” his mother said. “Family and a few friends. If I’d had more notice, I would have had a big homecoming for you.” She moved to her feet. “I need to go check on the cook. Maitlyn, please make yourself at home.”

  “Thank you,” Maitlyn said.

  As she exited the room, Hassan tossed up his hands. “Your mother, she never changes. Do not let her upset you.”

  Zak shook his head. “She doesn’t, Baba.”