Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Make It Delicious
- PART ONE
- 1 HALA Going Home
- 2 MAWAL Nawara
- 3 SORAYA Fire
- 4 KHADIJA Sand and Fire
- PART TWO
- 5 HALA Mourning
- 6 MAWAL Crossing
- 7 SORAYA Visas
- 8 MAWAL Flowers from My Roza
- 9 KHADIJA School
- 10 HALA White
- 11 HALA Weddings
- 12 SORAYA Success
- 13 MAWAL America
- 14 KHADIJA Birthday
- 15 SORAYA The American Dream
- 16 KHADIJA Social Studies
- 17 SORAYA Fancy-Dance Man
- 18 HALA Sharif
- 19 MAWAL Looking
- 20 HALA Aqaba
- 21 HALA Visiting
- 22 MAWAL The Beautiful Gift
- 23 KHADIJA Traditions
- 24 HALA Dress Up
- 25 HALA Backgammon
- PART THREE
- 26 KHADIJA Sleeping Over
- 27 SORAYA Love Story/Remembering Story
- 28 KHADIJA Mothers
- 29 MAWAL Maziuna
- 30 SORAYA Clouds
- 31 KHADIJA Long Distance
- 32 HALA Old Men
- PART FOUR
- 33 HALA Naked Underneath
- 34 MAWAL Safe
- 35 KHADIJA Fire
- 36 SORAYA Just Down the Road
- 37 HALA Bare Walls
- Acknowledgments
I sit, staring at nothing, maybe at yesterday. I want to puke or punch something, but Hamdi’s voice won’t let me.
“The fall will come. It hasn’t yet, but it will. It’s just down the road.”
We move slowly along the streets in our bubble, but then Hamdi pulls over under a tree, puts the car in park, and stares in front of him. “Soraya, I know what Haydar did. I know it has caused you a considerable amount of grief. I am willing to help you in whatever way I can, whether financial or otherwise.”
How can he know? Like Haydar long ago, I am dumbstruck. I came here looking for an escape, and I am being handed one, and I don’t know how to use it.
“Soraya, I want to do what is right, to help you find what is right. I have told no one, and I will respect your wishes, as you are a young woman, not a child. You can always come to me, but please, for your own good, forget about Haydar and who he was. That person is gone. It is so hard to accept, but he is gone, whether because of his illness, or because of the drugs he takes, he is gone. Please, please don’t think of him as an alternative.”
Hamdi’s English words sit between us on the leather seats, like uninvited guests that squeeze you and make you want to scream. I can’t even cry. I want to get out of the car, but I can’t move, can’t speak.
Hamdi stares for a bit, then starts driving. I don’t know where we are going, but I need to move and I am thankful that somewhere in his controlled little self, he understands that. He doesn’t even mind when I turn up the music, loud, and close my eyes, lean back in the seat, and go as far away from here as I can.
37 HALA Bare Walls
37HALABare Walls
Hamdi and Fay have a nice house in the center of the city that suits them and their professor lifestyle. I have my own private room in the back that looks out on an enclosed patio. Bougainvillea climbs up the white walls and makes my view pink- and salmon-colored. Inside, however, the white walls are bare because that is classier than having photos and posters scattered all over the place.