“I don’t know.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “I’m feeling charged to do all this. I can’t say anything more.” I open my eyes and find her eyes fixed on me with amazement.
“Charged by whom?”
“Maybe… God?”
“But you said you never believed in His existence.”
I shrug. “You leave me no choice, other than acknowledging this fact.”
“That’s a very lame reason for believing in Him, Mr. Gibson.”
We both remain in silence for a few minutes, trying to understand what just happened with us. Within a day, I feel like we have walked so far together. We have not shared any secrets, but I still feel a strong connection. To avoid the awkward situation, I hand her a fork. “Please finish your food. We will talk later.” And on that, I crawl back to my seat.
We both finish our meals in silence. The food is not warm anymore, but it still tastes scrumptious. Does she understand my taste buds, or do we share the same tastes? We finish our food almost at the same time.
“The food is really good. I like your choice.” I give her a friendly smile to release the pressure in the atmosphere.
“Thanks. It is one of my favorites too. Would you like to have some dessert?” She is trying to prove her hospitality. I nod at her with a smile. The waiter comes back, asking us about dessert, and she orders a hot fudge sundae for both of us to share. We share a few moments of silence until our dessert arrives.
We both look at the dessert and crack up at the size. It’s huge; we will never finish it.
“Oh my! I love it.” She takes a big spoonful of ice cream from the bowl, with all the nuts and chocolate, and starts to lick the spoon slowly. Oh fuck! Is she tempting me on purpose? No, she seems completely ignorant of my feelings.
“For the love of God, stop licking your spoon like that. It’s making me wild.” She is stunned for a moment, spoon in her mouth. Then, slowly, she takes the spoon out of her mouth, caressing it with her tongue, and giggles sinfully.
“What’s with you and licking, huh?” She takes more ice cream and repeats the process, teasingly. This time, she also licks her upper lip.
Fuck! Stop it, girl, or else I will suck your chocolate-coated lip, right here.
“Don’t provoke me, Rania. There is an animal inside every man, so you—”
“Who knows that better than me, Mr. Gibson? Some men I can’t even refer to as humans. They are only animals.” With that grave statement, she puts her spoon down and closes her eyes, hiding her fear. I want to ask her what animal has eaten her up. But I have to gain her trust first. I put my hand on hers, to provide her some comfort. She doesn’t recoil, but her eyes are still closed.
“I’m sorry. I was just teasing you.” She looks at me with distress.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to you. Please forgive me.”
“That’s okay.” She grins slightly.
“Like it or not, it was very erotic, you playing with the spoon,” I confess again, and start digging into my side of the ice cream. She giggles with pleasure, taking it as a joke. To lift her mood, I argue with her like a child. “Hey, you ate all the nuts from the top. That’s not fair.” She checks the ice cream innocently, to see if I’m telling the truth. I wave to the waiter to bring extra nuts for us.
“They must be thinking we will stay here forever.” She giggles at me again. And our nuts come within an instant. I start sprinkling them all over the ice cream, which is about to melt like my heart.
“Hey, you are putting more nuts in your territory. That’s not fair, either.” She starts pulling nuts from the spoon to her side.
“Okay, let me put the rest on your side.” We both chuckle like four-year-old kids who accidentally have to share one ice cream. She is busy savoring the dessert. It has done wonders. She likes ice cream; it changes her mood. I want to say something, but somehow, the power of her innocence has silenced me. Perhaps I should take her for dessert more often, if she agrees to go.
“Can I ask you something, if you don’t mind?” She nods, enjoying her fudge. “You told me you pray when you are grateful. What do you do when you know you did something wrong and you seek forgiveness?” I look at her seriously. She looks at me with bright eyes.
“It depends whom you are seeking forgiveness from. If you have hurt a person, you need to ask pardon from him first, and only then will God forgive you. If you have hurt His creatures, you have hurt Him, as well. But if you have done something wrong which you think only He knows about, then you ask Him.”
“And how do you ask Him? I mean what do you do?”
“I pray.” She shrugs her shoulder.
“So, when you are thankful, you pray and when you are sorry, you pray? What do you do when you want something from Him?”
“Same! Prayer is the gateway for everything. You want to thank Him. You want to repent for your sins. You want to communicate. He understands what you intend. He lives in your heart. You don’t need to mention to Him that you are doing this for a certain reason. He knows it, before you know.”
“I like your way of believing in Him, Rania. I have never heard anything like that from anyone. Not even from my mother.” The thought of my mother hurts me, always. There is a void in my heart that no one can ever fill.
“Where is your mother now?” She puts her spoon down and looks at me. “Only if you want to tell me.”
“There is nothing much to say. She left my dad when I was six. Before that, I had only seen my parents fighting. The only good thing in my childhood was my baby sister, Eva.” I smile at the thought of her. “Eva was two months old when they left. I missed her more than my mom. You say God exists, but where was He when I was calling Him to help me? Why didn’t He hear a child’s cry?”
“I can’t tell you, Mr. Gibson, why He didn’t answer your prayer that time, but please remember that prayers are never abandoned. Sooner or later, they are always answered, and in so much better ways than you could have imagined.” Her words are comforting, but they do not hit my heart. We have different beliefs based on our pasts. She continues with her dessert and I follow her. “So, does your secret spying company hire people?” She winks at me mischievously. I know she wants to change the subject. “I have read many mystery books. I want to know how this all works, not to mention that I am still annoyed about being stalked.”
“Please don’t say that. I’m not a stalker. I just wanted to find out about you, before I could talk to you.”
“You could have asked me. God has given me the ability to speak.”
“But you were ignoring me. I thought you would never talk. And trust me, I still don’t believe my luck that I’m sitting across from you, sharing a dessert.” I look deeply into her eyes and she gets my message.
“And you won’t tell me why you wanted to talk to me?” She starts moving her spoon in the bowl.
“Someday, I will. But not today.” I sigh and wait for her to look at me. She doesn’t ask me any more. I want to tell her everything, my one night experience with an enchantress, but I fear she would never believe me.
“So, what kind of books do you read apart from mysteries?” I change the subject.
“All kinds of fiction.”
“Why fiction only?”
“Because it takes you to the world of imagination, where reality doesn’t exist. It’s like a journey to some other world, far from cruel reality. Do you read too?”
“No, Rania. I don’t. I don’t have the time or, in fact, the patience to read fiction. I live in the real world.”
“Then your reality is more colorful than your imagination.” She looks at me dreamily—and enviously. She is silent for a moment, then continues. “Anyhow, I read you have dated quite a few women. I am sure it must be colorful. You don’t need to imagine, when you can have it in the real world.”
I lau
gh at her remarks, and show her the newspaper that she has kept at the corner of the table.
“You see this, Rania? It says I have been spotted only with you. They say you are my girlfriend.” My tone is serious and I don’t take my eyes off of her. “The women you are talking about, they were only bed partners. I never had anyone to date, to talk to and share our views.” She looks at me, open-mouthed. “I didn’t use them or take advantage of them. I didn’t force anyone. They all needed money and I was looking for pleasure. That’s it.”
She is still in shock. “So you keep… I mean… umm… do you have something like… umm… submissives?” she asks hesitantly.
“No, Rania. I don’t keep submissives. And I don’t see any point in keeping one woman for a long time, when you are spending money for them. You don’t wear a single dress every day, when you can afford a variety.” My comments shock her. It’s too much information. She’s going to run away screaming.
I’m afraid she’ll think I look at her the same way. I have to do or say something to make this better.
I take a small box out of the inner pocket of my jacket and place it on the table.
“I have something for you, Rania.” She leans toward the box, dark blue with Tiffany & Co embossed on it, but doesn’t touch it. Her expression says loudly that she is not expecting this.
“I can’t take it, but thank you.” She leans back again, pushing the box to my side of the table.
“Please don’t refuse it. At least open it and see if you like it or not.” I push the box back toward her.
“I am sorry, Adam. I can’t take it. I am not used to these kinds of gestures. So please—”
“Then get used to it. You are my girlfriend.”
“I am not your girlfriend. I haven’t agreed to your proposition.” She pushes the box back to me and leans back. She looks angry, and she won’t meet my eyes.
Damn!
“Don’t act like a child. You knew this would go in your favor, so please accept this gift. I have not been rejected ever—”
“Then get used to it.” She throws my words back to me, but in a more irascible way.
We both sit in silence for a long time. I am offended by her rejecting my gift. She is resentful of my dominance. She is one difficult woman. What woman won’t accept a Tiffany’s gift? She hasn’t even bothered to open it and see what it is. Even though I feel rejected, she makes one more inroad into my heart. She is not like other women, running after money. This is all my fault. I am pushing too hard for her to accept it. I should have gained her trust first, before giving her gifts. It is our first date, and she hasn’t agreed to accept me as her boyfriend. That’s a first for me too.
A girl rejecting me!
Our dessert is finished and the waiter brings the bill, placing it on the table. I realize that we have been in the restaurant for almost three hours. How has the time passed so quickly? She lays her hand on the bill to grab it, but I stop her by holding her wrist.
“Now, at least don’t argue on this one.” I keep holding her hand possessively, but she struggles hard to get it out of my grasp.
“Adam, please. We decided that this dinner is on me, so stop acting like a male chauvinist.” She is a wildcat this time. I grip her hand tighter and keep looking at it.
Yeah, baby, I am gonna tie your pretty hands someday, if you give me a hard time.
“If you pay for this, then you accept my offer and my gift.” I have no intention of letting her go, unless I make her agree to my terms. I’m just afraid she will return the bill and walk out. This is the biggest gamble of my life.
“What kind of bargaining is that?” She looks around the restaurant and back to me, with wide eyes. “Let go of my hand, Adam. You are creating a scene. People are looking at us.” She is hissing through her teeth. I keep looking at her, steamily.
“I know there is no one here except us. The restaurant is almost closed. If you are worried about the damn waiter, I don’t give a shit. Be a good girl and give me the bill. This is beyond my tolerance.” I don’t even bother to look around the restaurant, to see if people are there. She is firing right at my ego. “You will let me pay for this dinner and you will accept my offer, along with the damn gift.” She looks at me, stunned and intimidated. She takes it as a threat, so she lets the bill go. I release her hand and she leans back, creating distance between us. Shit! I lost her. She let me win this battle, but I achieved nothing. I take my credit card out and wave the waiter over to collect the bill. We both sit silent during the payment. As soon as the waiter leaves, thanking me, she gathers her bag and stands up.
“Where are you going?” I grip her arm tightly.
“The restaurant is almost closed. You plan to stay here forever?” I wish I could. I have to be more cautious when speaking. She’s constantly firing my words back at me. She is still raging. I have to calm her down, but there’s nothing coming to mind. I stand up with her, but don’t let her go. “You are forgetting something,” she reminds me, looking at the box we left on the table.
“That’s for you. I won’t pick it up. You are dumping it, so why do you care?” She takes her arm out of my grip and picks up the box. Then she grabs my hand and places the box on my palm.
“If you have money to waste, then give it to someone who needs it and appreciates it. I am neither needy nor greedy.” She turns away from me and I stop her again.
“But you never bothered to open it. At least show some courtesy—”
“Adam, I am not from medieval times. I know what Tiffany sells.”
“Rania, please! Stop being so hard on me.” My tone is more like a request than a command. She closes her eyes and calms down her anger.
“You don’t need to do all this. You are making me feel cheap.” She shrugs in frustration, but she keeps her eyes closed. I move closer to her and take her face in my hands. She still manages to keep her eyes closed, but doesn’t push me away.
“Hey, please, don’t say that. I would never want to make you feel cheap.” I whisper, but she can still hear me. “Every other girl likes to get gifts. I thought it would make you happy.”
“I am not like every girl. I told you that. I don’t deserve these precious things.” She opens her eyes as she speaks. All I see is agony. “I don’t know why you are wasting your time.”
“You don’t even know what you deserve. This gift is not even worthy of you. It is just my way of apologizing for the trouble I caused. If you don’t want it, that’s okay, but please don’t think like that.” I put the box back inside my jacket. What kind of woman is she? Rejecting a twenty-five-thousand-dollar necklace? I promise myself that this personalized piece of art will only adorn her beautiful neckline.
“It is late,” she says. “I want to go home now.” She turns around and heads to the closet beside the door. I follow her blindly and help her with her jacket. We go outside, where cold hard wind awaits us. She takes out her phone and makes a call.
“Yeah, hi. Can you please send a cab to…”
What? I’m standing next to her and she’s calling a fucking cab at this hour?
I take the phone from her and end the call.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask her angrily.
“Calling a cab?” she responds innocently, as if she is totally unaware of what she just did.
“Can’t you find a better way to insult someone?” I grit my teeth to control my anger. She shrugs in bewilderment.
“What’s with you and public transportation?” she inquires curiously. But when I open the passenger door, she slips inside.
We stay quiet all the way to her apartment. I turn on the radio, to break the silence. The radio starts playing a happy Christmas song, and I see her smiling. She enjoys the song innocently, closing her eyes, tapping her hands on her knees. I feel like she’s somewhere else, lost in the music. I want to ask he
r what she’s thinking about, but I don’t want to break the moment. When the song ends, she opens her eyes and looks at me. I have never seen that look in her eyes, but I can’t decipher the message. I concentrate on the road until I stop the car in front of her building. I step out and open the door for her. She gets out and wraps her arms around herself, to avoid the cold wind. It’s never been as hard to say something as in this moment, but I gather all my courage. Our date has finally ended and I don’t know how to say good-bye to her.
“Thank you for the wonderful evening. I can never forget it.” I smile at her.
“Thank you? You paid. I should say thank you.”
Oh! She is still annoyed.
“Thank you for selecting the restaurant. I really enjoyed the food and your company. But if it bothers you, you can pay next time. I won’t argue. I promise.” I grin at her. She is still expressionless.
“There will be no next time, Mr. Gibson. Good night!” She turns around and disappears inside without listening to my farewell words, taking all my hopes with her.
I know I have to try really really hard.
A BEAUTIFUL JOURNEY
♀
It is Monday morning. I am en route to Edmonton on Via Rail, thinking about the phone call I received from Ben yesterday. My father was being questioned at his workplace, about the daughter of the UN Secretariat dating a rich Canadian Casanova. Ben told me Baba sounded really deranged.
There was another picture of us in the paper today, from the restaurant on Saturday night. I just don’t understand why the media can’t give us space to breathe. Maybe with Adam, this is just part of the package. He’s always in the limelight, and that meant I would be in it too. I had no clue what it’s like to date the most influential man in Toronto. He is an open book, and staying close to him means people will turn my pages too. Ben warned me that I was giving Adam hope, and my father is not happy about it. I know how hard he has worked to attain his position in the Arab world, and my stupid actions are bringing shame to him.
Ben also told me that there is an Adobe® Summit for graphic designers and illustrators in Edmonton he wanted to send me to. I’m traveling by train because I wanted time to think about myself, and space from Adam.
A Silent Prayer Page 10
