December 21
4 days until Christmas
1 day until Hanukkah begins
The 26th day of Ramadan
Suhoorwas a disaster. Maryam had been so exhausted the night before, and so flustered after her run-in with Saif, she had forgotten to ask Deb and Kath, their friendly Tasmanian innkeepers, for help sourcingsuhoor, the early-morning meal that would sustain them during a full day of fasting. Naturally, no one else had thought to ask, either, which meant that at four this morning Maryam had to go on the hunt for enough food to feed the wedding party—their own family, plus Saif and Farah.
Just once, Maryam wished she could be the one who got to throw up her hands, plop down on the ground, and insist that someone else carry this burden.
By five a.m., she had managed to scrounge up a half dozen granola bars, a bag of dates, some apples, a few packets of hotchocolate powder, plus what Saima had scavenged from the vending machine: ketchup-flavored potato chips (why, Canada?) and Coffee Crisp chocolate bars, which, okay, were delicious.
“The Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, would fast an entire day in the hot desert sun after eating only two dates and drinking water,” Ghulam said to Maryam in the lobby, surveying her efforts. “In contrast, this is a feast.”
Her grandfather didn’t fast, due to his diabetes—Muslims with chronic health conditions weren’t required to abstain from food or drink—but he had woken up early to “join in the fun” this morning. She still gave him more dates, granola bars, and fruit than anyone else, and he settled on a comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace. His sleep had been erratic these past few years since her dadi-ma’s death, and she knew Dadu needed to be around people. She wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed in the airy foyer all day, chatting with whoever walked past. The wedding party was quiet as they ate in the central lobby of the inn. It was early enough that no one else was up, not even Deb and Kath. Maryam made a mental note to make arrangements foriftar, the evening meal, before catching herself.
We won’t be here at sunset, she reminded herself,because we are getting out of Snow Fallstoday. Just as soon as the snow stops.Maryam tried to catch Saima’s eye, but her sister sullenly drank thechaiMaryam had brewed using their in-room percolator.
Saif Rasool stood at the outer edges of the group. He smiled at her, holding up his granola bar in a mock salute. Maryam looked away, face burning, her humiliation still fresh in her mind.If it hadn’t been for Anna, none of this—
She paused. If it hadn’t been for Anna’s comforting presence on the flight, she might have had a full-blown panic attack, likeshe used to in college before an exam, and which had been happening to her more frequently lately. If it hadn’t been for Anna’s relentlessly cheerful chatter, she might have made a bigger fool of herself in front of Saif by truly freaking out.
Instead, he simply knew all her deepest secrets... and thought they werehilarious. Despite herself, she wondered where her seatmate was. She hoped Anna had found her way to a safe hotel, and was faring better than they were.
Maryam drank the last of her water—she made sure to drink at least two cups duringsuhoor—and rose, calling for the entire group’s attention. “We’ll prayfajrin a few minutes,” she announced, referring to the predawn prayer. “We can use the tablecloths as prayer mats.”
A few people discreetly left to makewudu, the purification ritual performed before prayer, and Saima took the opportunity to sidle up to her.
“The plan is to leave right aftersalat, right?” her sister asked, and Maryam hesitated.
“I checked the weather this morning...” Maryam started.
“Please. We have to be in Toronto today,” she said, and Maryam could tell her sister was keeping a lid on her boiling frustration with effort.
“I know, but it hasn’t stopped snowing,” Maryam said patiently. She had kept an eye on the storm on the small twenty-four-inch television in their room, and the situation didn’t look promising. The Weather Network newscasters had used the word “Snowmageddon” too many times for Maryam to discount the severity of the situation. It was a small miracle this tiny town still had power.
“We have to try,” Saima urged, and her voice finallycracked, a tear making its slow trek down her cheek. “You promised we would leave today.” She wiped her eyes, just as Maryam realized they had an audience—her parents, Farah, even Saif, had noticed Saima’s breakdown.
Maryam sighed. Her sister might not be making much sense, but she was right—a promise was a promise. “Afterfajrwe’ll try to find a way back to the airport,” she said, just as their mother walked over and put an arm around Saima, leaving Maryam to prepare their makeshift prayer area alone.
She spread the tablecloths on the ground by herself while the rest of the party huddled around Saima—everyone except for Saif, who grasped the other end of the long rectangular cloth she was struggling to lay in a straight line.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
He smiled at her. “You’re doing the heavy lifting by trying to keep us organized,” he said, reaching for the second tablecloth. “I’m only following your lead. Is your sister okay?”
“Her name is Saima,” Maryam answered, reaching down for the other end of the tablecloth.
He seemed surprised at her gruff tone and turned to face her. “I know her name, Maryam. We grew up together.”
“We attended the same parties and events, but we didn’t grow up together. We barely know each other,” Maryam countered.
Saif leaned close. “I know you,” he said, voice low and meaningful, and she tried not to shiver at this intimacy. An intimacy he wasn’t entitled to, she reminded herself.
“Only because you eavesdropped on a conversation that was never meant for your ears,” she said.
“You weren’t trying to keep your voice down,” he said. “I might have overheard a few things, but does it really matter? We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
