Bitter Almonds Page 15

  Almost reaching the door, Omar stopped. He removed his arm from Marwan’s shoulders and leaned his backside against the railing for balance. Taking a deep breath, he brought his body to its full height and endured a pang in his chest. ‘Your intentions?’

  ‘Honorable, of course.’ Marwan didn’t hesitate. ‘I know this isn’t the right time. But I am ready to propose.’

  Omar gave a quick nod, meaning to be reassuring, but his head jerked to expose his nervousness. He must find out if Nadia’s girlish infatuation had taken a deeper turn. ‘And Nadia? What does she have to say?’

  Hesitation seeped into Marwan’s eyes. ‘I wouldn’t talk to her about it without your permission, my friend.’

  That summed up Marwan’s character in Omar’s mind. Traditional to the core, dependable to the tooth, chivalrous to the extreme. How could he deprive Nadia of an opportunity to be pursued by this good man? Omar shook his leg, trying to ease a cramp. His muscles tensed with apprehension. Fear. He had lost his parents, his homeland, his health, his friends, and his pride. God help him, was he to lose Nadia too?

  Marwan wrapped a hand around his arm. ‘You need to sit down?’

  He studied Marwan’s trusting face. God may not be that angry with him, to grant him such a loyal friend. A moral man like Marwan could be kept away from Nadia. He waited for Omar’s permission? Not in his most daring dreams.

  Pressing a hand to his chest, Omar pushed off the railing. ‘Keep it to yourself for now. It isn’t time to think about this yet.’

  The disappointment that poured out of Marwan’s eyes added weight to the hook prodding in Omar’s chest. What kind of man was he? To keep his friend in torment, his Nadia from knowing she was loved by a decent man? What evil lay inside this cursed heart of his?

  The front door opened. Fatimah’s body filled the opening. She called out to Omar, her voice enveloping him with its familiar serenity and affection. He didn’t know how he managed the few steps that separated him from Fatimah, but the instant he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her huge body and didn’t want to let go. Fatimah loved him with unconditional, unwavering love. Did he deserve it?

  The reunion unfolded by varying degrees. Fatimah’s fragile state allowed Omar to keep her on her feet for a brief time, enough for him to recharge his emotional battery. They sat side by side on the sofa, holding hands and ignoring everyone else. Huda conversed with Um Waleed; Nadia and Marwan took opposite chairs.

  Fatimah locked apologetic eyes to his. ‘I wanted to come see you at the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me.’

  ‘Even if you could have, I would rather you didn’t set foot in that hospital.’

  ‘Nadia kept me informed of all the details. Are you in pain now?’

  Pain? He had forgotten about pain. ‘I’m fine.’ He nodded toward Huda. ‘Are you seeing a doctor?’ he whispered.

  ‘Waleed insisted,’ Fatimah whispered back. ‘Don’t worry, Huda understands. Her services are still needed, but I plan to deliver in the hospital.’

  Omar squeezed her hands. ‘Good.’

  ‘I want you to be there. For Waleed. He’s very scared.’

  ‘Of course.’ He worked his throat with difficulty. Waleed was scared? He was terrified.

  Fatimah patted his hand. ‘Don’t worry. It will be fine. I know it.’ She placed his hand on her belly. ‘God will help me.’

  Omar would make sure God didn’t have another plan for his sister. What did it take? A seasoned doctor in the delivery room? No problem. More than one? He would manage that, no matter the cost. He would stop at nothing. He snatched his hand away. ‘Wow!’

  Fatimah beamed with a wide smile. ‘You felt that? Baby is letting you know he loves his uncle.’

  ‘He?’

  ‘The way her belly is low, and looks like she swallowed a soccer ball, means she is carrying a boy.’ Um Waleed nodded with authority. ‘If it’s flat at the top like a shelf, then it’s a girl.’

  Omar caught Huda rolling her eyes. ‘Of course.’

  Um Waleed shook a finger in Huda’s face. ‘Mark my word. It’s a boy. I told Waleed to buy a ram and get ready.’

  Fatimah tensed. ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘Of course there is.’ Um Waleed’s voice vibrated. ‘I will not have my first grandson join this world without one.’

  Confused, Omar swung his head to Marwan asking for help.

  ‘The aqeeqa,’ Marwan clarified.

  ‘It’s good to follow traditions.’ Omar couldn’t help but side with Um Waleed. ‘Slaughtering a lamb and distributing its meat to the needy honors the baby.’

  Um Waleed waved in Omar’s direction. ‘See? Even your brother agrees with me.’

  Fatimah pulled on Omar’s hand, showing her irritation. ‘Like Omar said. It’s a social tradition, not a religious obligation. Uncle Mustafa didn’t do it for any of the girls.’

  Omar shook his head. ‘Uncle Mustafa couldn’t afford it.’

  ‘Aqeeqa is usually offered when the baby is a boy.’ Marwan averted his eyes to the floor. ‘My uncle did it for both his sons and daughter.’

  Um Waleed put a hand on her waist and tilted her hips. ‘Even if it is a girl, I want Waleed to distribute aqeeqa in her name. What do you want the neighbors to say about us?’

  Fatimah glared at her mother-in-law. ‘They will say we are smart not to go into debt over an ancient tradition.’ She turned to Omar. ‘Waleed will be upset to know he missed you. Can’t you stay until he comes home from work? Can’t we eat together? Stuffed zucchini, one of your favorites.’

  Omar picked up on her desire to change the subject. ‘Don’t worry about this now.’ He willed himself to his feet. ‘Mama Subhia is waiting on us.’

  Fatimah’s hand still in his, he tried to pull her with him, but the effort hurt his ribs. He winced despite himself. Nadia came to his aid and helped Fatimah off the sofa. Fatimah wobbled in her spot and tugged on Omar’s hand, causing him to bend forward. Sharp pain traveled down to his abdomen. Gritting his teeth, he doubled over and his head landed on Nadia’s shoulder.

  Nadia shot her arm to his back to steady him. ‘What’s wrong?’

  A groan escaped Omar’s throat when the pain spread to his hips. Pressing both arms to his midsection, he twisted away and almost fell to his knees.

  ‘What’s happening to him?’ Fatimah’s voice shrieked with panic.

  Marwan pushed past her and Nadia, slipped his strong hands under Omar’s arms and eased him back onto the sofa.

  Omar lay flat on his back, buried his face in his arms and held his breath. Clenching his jaw shut, he suppressed a nasty curse begging to give him false relief.

  ‘Tell me. What can I do?’ Marwan’s tone was business-like and confident.

  Omar dropped his arms and breathed. ‘Get them out of here.’

  ‘I’m staying.’ Fatimah tried to insert a pillow under his head. ‘I want to help.’

  Nadia wiped his brow with her hand. ‘Me too.’

  He opened his eyes to Nadia’s petrified face. ‘Leave,’ he yelled, his control gone.

  Huda pulled Fatimah away. ‘Marwan knows what to do. Come.’ She looked over her shoulder. ‘Nadia, you too.’

  Nadia shook her head, generous tears flowing. ‘No,’ she mouthed, her voice absent.

  Omar snatched the pillow and pressed it to his midsection. ‘Get the hell out,’ he barked.

  Marwan held Nadia by the shoulders and forced her toward the door. ‘Go.’

  The women rushed out of the room, closing the door behind them.

  Marwan held his legs, preventing him from falling off the sofa while he twisted and withered. ‘Pain in your gut again?’

  He slammed his fist to the back of the sofa. ‘Shit. Never this bad.’

  Marwan lifted his feet. ‘Bend your knees. The doctor said this might help relieve pressure.’

  He cursed out loud. Many times. Convulsions ground his insides, turning them into minced meat. Good to stuff Fatimah’s zucchini. He let out a
harsh laugh at the thought, his consciousness about to slip away. Sweat drenched his shirt, or was it blood?

  Omar opened his eyes. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘Fatimah’s place.’ Marwan was balanced on the sofa’s arm by his head.

  ‘Did I pass out?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He tried to get his bearing. ‘Did I say or do anything I should apologize for?’

  ‘Not to me, but the women got an earful of your colorful language.’

  Omar exhaled. ‘Shit.’

  ‘Listen. Best to take you back to the hospital. Have the doctor check you.’

  ‘He won’t tell me anything I don’t know. He already warned me of episodes like these.’

  Nadia’s voice came from behind the closed door. ‘Can I come in?’

  Marwan checked with him, raising his eyebrows.

  Omar grabbed the back of the sofa. ‘Help me.’

  ‘Give us a minute,’ Marwan called out.

  He sat upright, his shirt stuck to his skin, his armpits wet with sweat. Good thing he was scrubbed clean before he left the hospital. How bad did he stink? Hugging the pillow, he concealed his upper body.

  Nadia walked in, carrying a tray with a water pitcher and a couple of glasses.

  ‘Fatimah all right?’ Omar tried to sound strong.

  ‘Fatimah is doing fine.’ The glasses rattled in Nadia’s hands, her face draining of color.

  Did he look that bad?

  ‘She’s worried. Huda and Um Waleed kept her out of earshot.’ Nadia set the tray on the coffee table.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Omar mumbled.

  ‘I told them I would get them once I checked on you.’ Nadia filled a glass and handed it to him. ‘How do you feel?’

  Omar took short sips. ‘Better.’

  ‘What happened?’ Nadia ignored Marwan, who poured himself a glass. She lifted a hand to Omar’s forehead. ‘You scared us.’

  Drained of energy, he closed his eyes and dropped his head back. ‘Muscle spasms. Nothing serious.’

  ‘His muscles are scarred and weak,’ Marwan explained. ‘Once he regains his strength, the spasms will go away.’

  ‘You mean this could happen again?’

  ‘Afraid so.’

  Omar opened his eyes, glared at his friend. ‘Don’t scare her.’

  ‘No point hiding facts. Besides, someone at home needs to know what to do when you have another episode.’

  ‘I can do it. Teach me,’ Nadia said.

  ‘No need.’ Omar’s voice sounded more scared than angry. Have Nadia see him twist and cry like a baby?

  Huda entered the room, followed by Fatimah. They hovered over him and kept him from stopping Marwan taking Nadia aside to teach her what to do.

  Arriving home, Omar braced himself for Mama Subhia’s warm welcome. He reveled in the genuine love she showed, put his agony behind him and tried to enjoy the attention. Tolerating her light embrace in the living room, he noticed a change in Nadia’s attitude. She appeared nervous and apprehensive, fluttering around and biting her lower lip. He couldn’t figure out what had fazed her. He also noticed she walked Marwan to the door and took her time to bid him goodbye.

  Sameera lurked in the background, as if afraid to talk to him. Huda disappeared into the kitchen. And Mama Subhia went on and on about how much she had missed him, how thankful she was to have him with her again, and how the miserable outcome of the war didn’t matter as long as he was safe.

  Shareef walked in through the front door.

  Mama Subhia sucked a sharp breath. ‘You’re home early.’

  ‘Quick break.’ He extended a hand to Omar. ‘Good to have you home.’

  Omar shook his hand, had no clue why Mama Subhia’s tears poured. She opened her arms wide to her son, and they embraced in that awkward position, Shareef almost folded in half. Nadia stood at a distance, the strange expression on her face adding to Omar’s bewilderment. From her corner, Sameera observed with her brows knotted, mouth twisted to one side. Huda peeked her head out of the kitchen. The women seemed taken aback. If only he were in a state of mind that would allow him to analyze, evaluate and understand the undercurrents that were going on. But he was dead tired. A bed. He needed a bed.

  Shareef took a chair. ‘Do you know when you’re expected to report to your commanders?’

  ‘Medical leave for a month.’ Omar suppressed a yawn behind his hand. ‘Hopefully the doctor will give me the green light.’

  ‘Prescriptions?’ Shareef glanced at his watch. ‘I can get them on my way back from work.’

  ‘Already got them. Pain killers, that’s about it.’

  Shareef turned to his wife. ‘Lunch ready? I have to get back soon.’

  Sameera hurried to the kitchen. It reminded Omar of his comrades obeying orders from their officers. How far had Sameera fallen from her angelic status? Unable to think straight, he closed his eyes and rested his head back.

  Mama Subhia tugged on his arm. ‘Let’s get you to bed.’

  Nadia hurried and opened the door to Mama Subhia’s room. She stood by the entrance, wringing her hands. ‘This will be your room.’

  Omar checked with Mama Subhia. She gave him a gentle push. ‘Go on.’

  He took one step into the room, passing an anxious Nadia. ‘This can’t be.’ He turned to face Mama Subhia. ‘I can’t take your room.’

  ‘You can and you will.’ Mama Subhia pushed him further in. ‘It’s the closest to the bathroom.’ She held his forearm and pulled, urging him to bring his head down. ‘It isn’t the same without Mustafa, God rest his soul.’

  ‘But—’

  She patted his arm. ‘I need to be with my daughters, and you need your privacy.’

  Omar straightened. ‘Thank you.’

  Shareef’s voice came from behind. ‘Thank Nadia. She’s the one who worked hard to get it ready.’

  Nadia lifted her eyebrows, questioning. ‘Do you like it?’

  Seeing nothing but her adorable face, he mumbled, ‘Very much.’

  ‘I will see about lunch. You get some rest.’ Mama Subhia left the room. Nadia followed her. Omar met Shareef’s clouded gaze. He brought his voice down a notch. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way. I am very grateful. Is everyone on board with this arrangement?’

  Shareef gave an awkward nod. ‘Like I said. Welcome home.’

  Omar’s friends visited non-stop over the next several days. Young officers and soldiers poured into the house, their defeated demeanor distorting the grandeur of their otherwise impressive presence. Busy preparing coffee and tea trays, Nadia wondered if she would have admired the handsome men had they returned victorious. Instead, their pressed uniforms and political discussions annoyed her. They saturated Omar’s room with cigarette smoke, reminded him of his failures and pushed him deeper into depression after each visit. Day after day, she watched him try to stay balanced and pull himself out of the despondent slump the entire country had sunk into.

  Omar struggled with everyday tasks. Going to the bathroom, bathing, changing his clothes, and some days, keeping food in his stomach. Nadia would stand outside his closed door, unable to lend a helping hand, hearing him fumble and swear in frustration. He didn’t allow any of the girls to help him, including her mother. Shareef was always absent and never offered his assistance when he came home. His callousness drove Nadia crazy.

  To regain his strength, Omar employed the younger girls for his training. Salma and Farah lay on the bare floor, held on to Omar’s ankles and allowed him to drag them around the room. He had tremendous difficulty at first, able to move them half a tile forward before he collapsed in pain. But he persevered, placing markers on the tiles as goals. For his arms, he carried around food cans, books and sacks of rice or bulgur. The girls challenged him to carry them as the ultimate goal. They giggled, encouraged and provided the right amount of incentives. Omar sweated, yelled and gritted his teeth in concentration. He kept at it, reaching one set target after another.

  Marwan didn’t v
isit as often as Nadia thought he might. Always coming in with a group of friends and leaving with them, he seemed to avoid talking to her, or even glancing her way. Not knowing what to make of his sudden disinterest, offended and disappointed, she acted in defiance and did her best to avoid running into him as well. On the days he visited, instead of taking the service tray into Omar’s room as usual, she would send Salma in her place. When it was time for him to leave, Nadia felt the urge to use the bathroom. One time, Marwan left with the group he came with, then returned a minute later saying he had forgotten his keys. Nadia let him in and pretended to be busy. On his way out, he met her eyes. Something was wrong. Marwan’s dark eyes screamed at her, asking for something. Understanding? Patience? What held him back? Who? Huda? Shareef?

  One Thursday evening, while Omar’s friends mingled in his room, devouring everything Nadia sent their way from the kitchen, Mama joined her by the sink.

  ‘Um Waleed called. Fatimah is restless.’ Mama put a hand on Nadia’s shoulder. ‘I think I’ll go over there.’

  Nadia dried her hands on a towel. ‘I’m coming.’

  Mama shook her head. ‘Shareef and Sameera took your sisters with them to her parents’ house, so they will be back late. Omar’s friends will leave soon. He shouldn’t be left alone.’

  Nadia nodded. ‘I hope Fatimah is all right.’

  ‘Don’t tell Omar. No need to worry him.’

  ‘Will you call me to let me know?’

  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing.’ Mama headed to the door. ‘If Huda comes home soon, send her over.’

  A couple of hours later, Nadia closed the door behind the last visitor. She went back to the kitchen to put things in order, eager to get out of her shoes and clothes, and away from the sink. Her hands felt like she had spent the entire day washing dishes.

  A loud crash sounded from Omar’s room. Nadia ran over.