He stops for a moment and smiles at my brother’s image on the TV screen. Then he turns back to me. “So Miss Hala, American Hala, tell me about your life.” He smiles, clear and honest.

I tell him about graduation, about Aunt Fay and Uncle Hamdi, about my university plans, and he listens with the same interest and patience as he did when I was a child, which always made me feel the delight and power of my words.

When Latifa comes back and lowers the tray for him, she leans over so much that her bra shows. I feel embarrassed for her as Sharif looks back at the television screen.

“So you are married and have children now?” I ask him to irritate Latifa.

“No, I am not married and I have no children.”

“You are a nosy girl,” Latifa says to me as though I were five years old again.

“No, she is as curious as she was when she was a child.” He winks at me.

I don’t remember him being this charming, and I am amazed at how familiar and comfortable I feel talking to him.

“You are really very lucky you came home when you did,” Sharif tells me when Latifa has left the room. “I have some free time and, as luck would have it, I am a professional tour guide. I would be delighted to reacquaint you with your homeland. One of your homelands, at least.”

“That would be great.”

“What would be great?” asks Latifa, who has reappeared.

“I was telling Hala what a grand tour guide I am. As I have the liberty of a summer free of work or worries, I will dedicate it to the two of you and your desires. We will see the castles; we will eat in all the new restaurants; we will have picnics. We will not go to Aqaba, may God have mercy on your mother. You will be so tired of me after these few weeks that you, Miss Hala, will run back to America in exhaustion.”

I laugh. Latifa does not.

“That would be very nice, Sharif, but please do not trouble yourself on our behalf. I can take Hala wherever she needs to go.”

“My dear sister, Latifa, need is not the issue. I am speaking of desire and wishing. She may need to go to the store to buy shampoo, but she may desire to go to Ata Ali for ice cream. And that, my friends, is a splendid idea. Let us have some ice cream.”

Latifa has started to make noises of protest, but Sharif ignores her.