18. A Girl Is Trying to Reconnect

JAMIE

August 30, Sunday Morning

Colorado

Siri blows me off for the hike I pleaded for last night. I wait by the trails till 8:18 a.m. before giving up and wandering down to the small dock next to the canoe cabin. Zarar is there in his green Rediscover Yourself T-shirt and black shorts, hunched over the edge with his feet dangling and a fishing pole gripped in his hands.

The wood strains and squeaks under my feet as I approach. “How goes it, Zarar?”

He looks up, squinting in the light. “Fishing,” he explains.

I plop down next to him. “Classic Zarar.”

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Eh, I’m fine. I rested all yesterday.”

I watch his eyes travel to my gauze square. “You wear bandages well.”

I smirk at him. “Thanks, Zarar. I’m flattered.”

“You can call me Z if you want.”

My smirk morphs into a smile. “I’ll take you up on that from time to time, but I love your full name.”

He holds my gaze for a long moment before nodding. “So you’re feeling better?”

I nod. “I’m hindered in the eyebrow raising department, but indeed, my general well-being has improved since yesterday.”

“Good. I’m really glad.”

I glance down at the dark water sparkling below my feet. I’ve yet to hear Zarar laugh at anything I’ve said. Tough cookie to crack in the humor department.

I swing my legs back and forth under the dock. “Do you like your parents, Z?”

“I love my parents.” He bobs his fishing pole up and down and reels it in slightly.

“Well, that’s built in.”

Zarar lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. “I kind of want to be just like them. They moved here from Pakistan as college students back in the eighties and found each other at school … They really love each other, and they’re perpetual optimists. They live and parent to the beat of their own drum: they’ve worked hard to foster a dynamic where we can all be super open together. My brother and I are big fans.” He smiles. It’s a sweet, subtle, close-lipped thing.

“Do you like your brother?” I ask.

He leans away. “What kind of question is that?”

I chuckle. “What do you mean? It’s a regular question!”

“I love my brother. His name’s Javed. He’s my best friend. We lived together in New York for four years while I was getting my accounting degree and he was teaching at Pace.”

“You don’t live together anymore? Did it go horribly wrong?”

He bobs his fishing pole up and down again. “No, he’s getting married, so he and his fiancée got their own place.”

I fiddle with my overall buckles. “Damn, so what, you have a picture-perfect family life?”