Israel

by Celeste Granger

“I must say, seeing my sons here, safe and sound, does my heart good,” Omar commented. “I try not to worry. I know that each of you is very capable, intelligent, and mindful businessmen, and I couldn’t be more confident in your individual and collective abilities as the CEO of Ali International. However, as your father, I do worry. I do worry that the world doesn’t see you as brilliantly as I do. That somehow, they undervalue you and will treat you that way, that some hurt, harm, or danger will come to you that is outside of my ability to control. And so, I am happy to see you, here with me, safe and sound.”

  “Glad to be back,” Basel acknowledged.

  “And I as well,” Israel added.

  “Khalid, do you have the projections for the third quarter regarding our national and international investments?” Omar asked.

  “I do,” Khalid replied. Turning in his seat, Khalid picked up the portfolios he prepared for the meeting and passed them out. As the Director of Investments, Khalid was responsible for keeping his eyes on the money. He took after his mother that way, double majoring in mathematics and business.

  “If you’ll turn to the summary on page three, I’ve outlined what our expenditures look like as compared to what our expected earnings will be.”

  The men took a moment to review what Khalid provided, noting the substantial earnings from the second quarter as well as projected earnings for the third.

  “Israel, I will need your input from Australia to construct the addendum to the report for finalization.”

  “Uh, I can have that to you in a couple of days,” Israel replied. His tone was flat and lackluster, and everyone around the table took note.

  “I know this isn’t the time in the meeting where we normally discuss our philanthropic endeavors,” Israel began, “however, I would like to put together a proposal for expansion specifically targeted to increasing our focus on archaeological pursuits.”

  “I wonder what brought that on,” Tareef mumbled only loud enough for Israel to hear.

  Israel didn’t turn in his brother’s direction, but he heard it.

  “You know we are always open to increasing what we do in our community and communities abroad, particularly if it is beneficial to those the message is centered around,” Omar replied.

  “Thanks,” Israel answered.

  “Any other new business?”

  Omar looked around the table, allowing each of his sons to speak. When there was nothing else, the meeting was adjourned.

  “What’s up with you, bro,” Tareef asked, turning in his chair, and facing Israel. “You brought your gym bag to the meeting?”

  “Yeah, man,” Israel replied. “Got some stuff I need to work through.”

  “I can tell,” Tareef commented. “You seem a little off. What’s up with that?”

  “Just some things on my mind, man,” Israel lamented.

  “Well, I can go for a good workout,” Tareef added. “I’ve got my bag in the trunk. I’ll meet you in the gym.”

  “Cool,” Israel uttered, lifting himself to standing and gathering his things.

  “Basel,” O’Shea approached. “I know you and Aya just got back from your honeymoon. How was it?”

  “It was good. We needed the time,” Basel replied.

  “Glad to hear it,” O’Shea said. “Charity wanted to reach out to Aya but wasn’t sure whether she was up to it or not.”

  “I’ll mention it,” Basel affirmed. “I’m sure she would love some girl time.”

  “Excellent. I’ll let Charity know.”

  O’Shea and Basel parted ways but not before giving each other some brotherly dap and a fraternal handshake. Israel made sure to tell his brothers and his dad he would see them later before exiting the conference room. Ali International was equipped with everything a major corporation should be; daycare for employees with children, a fully operational gymnasium and fitness center, great dining, and conference room facilities on several scales to accommodate any gathering needs. Israel entered the locker room, grateful that it was relatively empty and changed from his custom-tailored suit into his workout gear. He didn’t like the feeling of not knowing, not having the answers to a problem that plagued him. Grabbing a towel and a bottle of water, Israel entered the workout area, once again, pleased that there were not many people there.

  Stepping onto the treadmill, Israel set the speed and incline for a brisk walk on a slight hill. He didn’t need music or television to occupy his mind. Israel just needed to move and consider.

  “You call this working out,” Tareef asked, stepping onto the treadmill beside his brother. “That rate won’t even get your heart pumping.”

  Tareef set up his machine and fell into a slightly faster pace than Israel.

  “Talk to me, bro,” Tareef encouraged. “What’s up with you?”

  “Why do you assume something is going on?”

  “Israel, please,” Tareef huffed. “I know you like you know me, remember?”

  Israel didn’t need to respond. What was understood didn’t have to be said. He and Tareef were close, all the brothers were. At times they were closer to one brother or the other, looked to one or the other for different things, confided in one or the other when certain situations arose. At the end of it, though, they were thicker than thieves and would do whatever was necessary to be there for each other. Israel knew he had no greater friends than his brothers… none greater.

  “What happened in Australia?” Tareef asked.

  Tareef watched as Israel’s step nearly faltered. His recovery was quick, but the stumble let Tareef know that something occurred. If Israel tried to deny it, he knew his brother was being less than honest. But Israel didn’t have the time nor the headspace to be dishonest. Maybe talking it through with his brother would help sort some things out.

  “Australia was good,” Israel began. “We ended up doing some incredible work there.”

  “Yet, you didn’t mention it during the meeting. You kind of played down that whole thing,” Tareef noted.

  “Yeah,” Israel sighed.

  “So, if things went well, what is it you’re not saying? What happened?”

  Israel looked at his brother. “Cairo happened.”

  Cairo did her best to hide her discomfort from the moment she stepped off the plane. By the time she got home, Cairo could barely walk, she hurt so bad. All she could do was take her clothes off and climb into bed. Cairo made a quick call to her parents to let them know she made it home safely. Of course, her mother, Catherine, wanted to hear all the details of her daughter’s latest adventures.

  “Can we talk later, mom?” Cairo asked. She did her best to sound upbeat, to keep the pain she felt out of her voice. Cairo never liked to worry her mother, but she couldn’t hide anything from her. Catherine knew her daughter well.

  “What do you need me to do,” Catherine offered. Despite her daughter attempting to mask it from her, Catherine suspected what was going on. She’d dealt with Cairo’s endometriosis alongside her, every misdiagnosis, every new doctor, every new treatment, every disappointment, Catherine had been right by Cairo’s side. She heard the pain despite Cairo’s best efforts to shield her from it.

  “There’s nothing you can do, mommy,” Cairo cringed as another stabbing pain struck low in her pelvis. “I’m just gonna lay down.”

  “Okay, sweetie,” Catherine consoled. “If you need anything, though.”

  “I know,” Cairo hummed. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Placing the phone on her nightstand, Cairo opened a bottle of pain reliever. She sighed because taking medicine felt like an exercise in futility. It never really took the pain away nor relieved it. All she could hope for was that the medicine would take the edge off enough so that she could try and rest. Picking up the bottle, Cairo unscrewed the top and poured a few of the pills in her hand. Tossing them in her mouth, she picked up a glass of water and took a sip. She didn’t wait long before sliding under the duvet that covered her bed and pulling it up e
nough to cover her ears. Although her pelvis throbbed and her belly was tied into knots, Cairo slowly pulled her legs up close to her chest in a fetal position and then waited until her body adjusted to the new position before closing her eyes. The blackout curtains she didn’t bother to open when she got home helped to darken her space. Her closed eyes made the space even darker. Yet, nothing external could block out Cairo’s vision of Israel, who manifested behind her shielded eyes.

  “I assume my geography isn’t faulty, and Cairo is in Egypt, not Australia,” Tareef commented, picking up a towel and wiping his forehead.

  “Your geography is fine,” Israel lamented.

  “Then, if that’s the case, Cairo is not a place.”

  “Right again, little brother,” Israel sighed.

  “She’s the reason you mentioned increasing our philanthropic endeavors,” Tareef mused.

  “Partially,” Israel commented.

  Tareef chuckled. Israel had a good heart, he knew that, but this? This was about the girl.

  “And the reason you are off your game,” Tareef backhanded.

  “Only partially,” Israel quipped. Reaching out, Israel increased his speed and the pitch of his incline and then eyed his brother. Tareef knew a challenge when he saw one, making sure to match Israel’s settings as his own. They started to jog, keeping each other in their periphery. That jog soon became a run as they made the necessary adjustments to increase their speed.

  “Keep up youngin’,” Israel challenged as he escalated the speed again to the point that he was running. Tareef, refusing to be outdone, matched Israel step for step, stride for stride. Neither wanted to be the first to give up, and they kept that frantic pace for minutes. They were panting and sweating and challenging each other the entire time.

  When Tareef stepped on the risers to stop, only then was Israel satisfied.

  “Like I said, keep up youngster,” Israel laughed, wiping his face, and then draping the towel on his shoulder.

  “Whatever,” Tareef countered.

  Once they silenced the treadmills, Israel and Tareef moved to the weights. Israel laid down on the weight bench. Tareef stood behind his head, spotting him. After they adjusted how much weight was on the bar, Israel began completing chest presses.

  “Tell me about Cairo,” Tareef encouraged as he kept his hands extended immediately under the weighted bar as Israel pushed the poundage for another round of reps.

  “I thought we had something good, man,” Israel commented. “She was the supervisor on the dig, and from the minute we met, it got real interesting quick. Like our attraction felt instantaneous, and you know for me, that doesn’t happen.”

  Tareef nodded his head in agreement.

  “But it didn’t feel like a fling, or that we were keeping each other company temporarily.”

  “That’s definitely different,” Tareef quipped.

  “Don’t make me sound like a player,” Israel defended, setting the bar down in the holder.

  “Not a player, necessarily,” Tareef clarified. “But also, not one to get too deep into anything too quickly.”

  “Now, on that, we can agree.” Israel sat up on the bench, still straddling it as he wiped himself down again.

  “She’s just different,” Israel reflected. “We connected so powerfully.”

  Then Israel fell silent, although, to Tareef, his thought sounded incomplete. Tareef waited until Israel was ready to speak again.

  “And then it just stopped, like, stopped.”

  “What happened,” Tareef asked, padding a few steps, and picking up smaller weights to wrist curl.

  “That’s the whole thing, bro,” Israel began. “I don’t know what the hell happened. It’s like, we were good one minute and then the next, she pulled away like absolutely withdrew.”

  “And you tried to talk to her?” Tareef queried.

  “Of course,” Israel replied. “Like, I wouldn’t have bothered if it was a temporary thing. But I never got that feeling from her that she wanted temporary.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “Nothing,” Israel mumbled.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I tried to talk to her to see what was bothering her. Had I misread us, was I reading too much into it. I asked if I had said something or done something to offend her, something I wasn’t cognitively aware of.”

  “And she said?”

  “That’s the frustrating part,” Israel admitted. “She said it was because we disagreed on a find that was made, but it had to be more than that.”

  Israel took the towel in his hands and placed it over his face, the frustration he felt spilling over.

  “Maybe things were moving too fast for her, and she didn’t know how else to end it,” Tareef suggested.

  “Maybe,” Israel sighed, sliding the towel from his face. “Even then, we’re grown. We’re adults with the ability to discuss, debate, discourse hell even disagree. We talked about so much. Why wouldn’t she have just said that?”

  “Maybe she didn’t know how,” Tareef reasoned. “Why not just reach out to her, man. See if you can talk to her. Maybe with a little time and space, she might be able to say what she needs to.”

  Israel nodded. All of that sounded good. Maybe he would take his brother’s advice, or maybe he would just leave well enough alone.

  Chapter Ten

  That night was much like the last few nights for Israel. He couldn’t concentrate or focus on anything other than Cairo. It was like as soon as he stopped moving, as soon as there was no specific or directed thought process, she sashayed back into his mind. There was a part of him that believed what he said, that maybe he wouldn’t push it and let things stay the way they were, unfinished. But admittedly, that was a very small part. Israel didn’t like loose ends. He didn’t like wondering and questioning. He had to know if what they had was nothing or the something he felt in his heart it was.

  And then he chuckled to himself. Why not just pick up the phone and call, right? Get the answers to the questions that bothered him. He felt so dumb, realizing that as much as he knew about Cairo, he didn’t know her phone number. Their interaction had always been face to face. There was never a need to call her on the phone, until now. But once Israel decided that’s what he wanted to do, there was nothing that would stand in his way.

  Israel strolled to his office and sat behind the desk. It only took a few seconds to pull up Cairo’s online profile. This time when he scanned the information, he did so with intent. There had to be a way to contact her. And although his search was focused, he couldn’t help but be distracted by the pictures of her that littered the page. There was one of her dressed in business attire and one of Cairo in what she would wear while working. In both, she was beautiful, but as it happened when they met in person, Israel was immediately drawn to her eyes. He leaned in closer to the screen, unconsciously, so he could peer into them. They were as intriguing and mysterious and alluring as they had been in person. Cairo’s eyes were the window to her soul. That’s where the key to her heart was locked away. Israel determined he would find the key to that very precious lock. Israel refocused his search in earnest until he found what he was looking for, at least partially. There was a contact number listed, but Israel got the feeling it was a business number and not her cell phone. That made sense, though. His personal cell phone number was not public. There was also an email address, but that seemed way too impersonal for what he was trying to accomplish. Calculating the time difference between California and Atlanta, Israel picked up his phone and dialed the number. Even if he had to leave a message, it was a first step, hopefully in the right direction.

  Three Days Later

  Cairo felt somewhat better, but she was still not 100%. Unfortunately, it was a cycle she’d become used to. It wasn’t this intense all the time, lulling Cairo into a false sense of security when she would have what would be considered a regular menstrual cycle and then bam! She’d be knocked on her ass for days out of nowhe
re, suffering from excruciating pain. At one point, when friends would ask, she would share with them what she was going through. She learned to stop doing that a while ago. Although Cairo was sure they meant well, inevitably someone would play down her symptoms or make suggestions for care that she’d already exhausted. She learned to not discuss the more prominent issues with those close to her, particularly if talking about the symptomology proved to be TMI for most… even though they cared. She learned that her fears were best kept to herself. Cairo learned, too, that being around friends when their lives were moving on a trajectory, she could only dream of brought out any number of feelings for her that were best left unspoken. When a friend got married, got pregnant, had a child, and then a second or a third, Cairo felt the ugliness of envy and jealously rise inside her; an emotion that she otherwise wouldn’t feel. She knew how divisive that kind of emotionality could be, and she didn’t like to see if reflected in who she was. Because that’s not really who she was. It’s not who she wanted to be. But despite her best efforts to be happy for those around her, and generally, genuinely she was, there seemed to be a tinge of jealousy that crept up magnifying the pervasive sadness that resulted. That feeling of wanting what someone else had inadvertently dampened her happiness for them and made Cairo feel disingenuous. And that was not who she was. Genuinely, she was happy for their favorable circumstances. She struggled to be happy for them while grieving her own.

  And even her mother, who had been her rock through everything, said things did things that caused Cairo to withdraw even more. She knew her mother loved her beyond life itself, but that didn’t stop her mom from responding humanly and hopefully. Because Catherine couldn’t fix it for her child, she offered alternatives, naturally. That’s what anyone who loves someone would do, offer other options, give them a way out an alternative to not being able to have the thing they desired most. Although her mother was not necessarily a religious woman, she was spiritual. So, some of those suggestions involved making greater supplication to the Creator so he would move favorably in her life. Other suggestions were more practical, adoption, in-vitro fertilization. Well, meaning? Of course, but that was not what Cairo wanted nor desired for her life. She wanted what her mother and father had – a loving marriage that resulted in children born of love. She wanted to make love to her husband and for him to spill life into her that would grow inside her belly. Cairo wanted all the cravings of pregnancy and the pain of delivery experienced with a man she loved. She wanted it all and real and natural and the way it had happened for billions of women throughout the history of time. That’s what she wanted, and anything short of that would be a substitution, and Cairo couldn’t bring herself to crave and desire substitution. Not at this point. And as selfish and self-righteous as it might sound, it’s what she wanted. It’s who she was, and if she couldn’t have it, the way she felt in her heart was what was intended for her, then it was easier to push it all away, to push Israel away, to push possibility away.