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Wryness touched her lips. “It was Johara who gave me the code to decipher your hieroglyphics when she said she felt as if her and Shaheen’s intimacy left you unable to connect with either of them on the same level as you used to.”
“She’s probably right. But it’s not only my own hang-ups. Neither of them has enough left to devote to anyone else. A love like that fills up your being. And then there’s the massive emotional investment in Gharam and their coming baby.”
Something inscrutable came into her eyes, intensifying their already absolute darkness.
Seeming to shake herself out of it, whatever it was, she continued searching his recesses. “So was there a triggering physical event? That made your health start to deteriorate?”
“Nothing specific. I just started being unable to sleep well, to eat as I should. Everything became harder, took longer and I did it worse. Then each time I got even a headache or caught a cold, it took me ages to bounce back. My focus, my stamina, my immunity were just shot. I guess my whole being was disintegrating.”
“But you’re back in tip-top shape now.”
It was a question, not a statement, worry tingeing it.
He let his gaze cup her elfin face in lieu of his hands. “I’ve never been better. And it’s thanks to you.”
Her smile faltered as she again waved his assertion away. “There you go again, crediting me with miracles.”
“You are a miracle. My Minute Miracle. Not that size has anything to do with your effect. That’s supreme.”
He jumped to his feet, feeling younger and more alive than he’d ever felt, needing to dive headfirst into the world, doing everything under the sun with her. He rushed to fetch their jackets, then dashed back to her. “Let’s go run in the rain. Then let’s hop on my jet and go have breakfast anywhere you want. Europe. South America. Australia. Anywhere.”
She donned her jacket and ran after him out of the apartment with just as much zeal. “How about the moon?”
Delighted at her willingness to oblige him in whatever he got it in his mind to say or do, he said, “If it’s what you want, then I’ll make it happen.”
She pulled one of those funny faces that he adored. “And I wouldn’t put it past you, too. Nah…I’ll settle for something on terra firma. And close by. I have to work in the morning, even if you’re so big and important now you no longer have to.”
He consulted his watch. “If we leave for Barbados in an hour, I’ll have you at work by ten.”
Her disbelief lasted only moments before mischief and excitement replaced it. “You’re on.”
Nine
“It’s…good to hear your voice, Father.”
Kanza hated that hesitation in her voice. Whatever her father’s faults, she did love him. Did miss him.
Yeah. She did. But, and it was a huge but, after ten minutes of basking in the nostalgia of early and oblivious childhood when her father had been her hero, she always thudded back to reality and was ready not to see him again for months.
“It’s great to hear yours, ya bnayti.”
His calling her my daughter, instead of bestowing a personalized greeting with her name included, annoyed her. He called his other eight daughters that, with the same indiscrimination. She thought he used it most times because he forgot the name of the one he was talking to.
Curbing her irritation, and knowing her father never called unless he had something to ask of her, she said, “Anything I can do for you, Father?”
“Ya Ullah, yes. Only you can help me now, ya bnayti. I need you to come back to Zohayd at once.”
Ten minutes later, she sat staring numbly into space.
She’d tried to wriggle out of saying yes. She’d failed.
She was really going back to Zohayd. Tonight.
Her father had begged her to board the first flight to Zohayd. Beyond confirming that no one was dead or severely injured, he’d said no more about why he needed her back so urgently.
She r
eserved a ticket online, then packed a few essentials. She wouldn’t stay a minute longer than necessary.
