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Good. It was time to go face the grumpy gharshtu and find out what the problem was. This time, he wouldn’t back down until he got some answers.
He was halfway to Tariq’s door when a chime sounded, announcing someone had entered the med-clinic.
He growled in near silent frustration at the interruption but broke into a grin when he heard a familiar voice call out from the waiting room. “Hey, Rae. Are they here? Hello?”
“Vixi, we’re both back here,” he answered, his previous annoyance evaporating with the arrival of their daughter.
He and Tariq met her in the hall between their offices. She hugged him first and then turned to hug Tariq. The moment her slender arms wrapped around his waist, she sighed, her lovely face scrunching into a frown that reminded him of her mother.
“You promised me you were going to eat more, Dad.”
This was news to Sulat, but he wasn’t surprised she hadn’t mentioned it to him. Vixi had been raised to respect the privacy of others, especially in matters of health and wellness.
“I am eating,” Tariq protested and looked over at him. “Tell her, Sulat.”
“He eats if I remind him. I imagine there’s a barely touched plate of food on his desk right now. I put it there an hour ago.” He was in no mood to cover for his anrik. In fact, Vixi might be the ally he needed in the coming confrontation with Tariq. The male was as stubborn as a mogat. Raenia was the only one who could manage him when he got like this. If she were here, she’d tease and cajole the truth out of him.
The brief thought of their beloved mahaya made his heart ache. She’d been gone for several years now, and her absence had left a hole in their lives and their souls. As deeply as he mourned her passing, he knew Tariq carried the heavier burden. His grief was tangled up in guilt, despite the fact no one could have done anything to change what happened.
Vixi leaned back and peered into Tariq’s office. “He’s right. You barely touched your meal.”
Tariq winced at that and Sulat had to hide his smile. Their daughter had landed a direct hit and given him the opening he needed.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Sulat moved closer to drop a friendly hand on his anrik’s shoulder to take the sting out of his words. “You barely eat. You never laugh. The only time you smile is when our little whirlwind pays us a visit. You never let it affect your work, but at home it’s like I am living with two ghosts instead of one.”
He hadn’t intended to say that last bit, but the thought had been in the back of his mind for weeks. It spilled out before he could stop himself.
All three of them froze for several long seconds.
“Bakaffa,” Tariq snarled and pulled away from Sulat’s hand.
“Hey! No calling him an asshole,” Vixi scolded before turning her attention his way. “And you could try to be kinder. This isn’t easy for any of us.”
Her voice cracked at the end, reminding him that Vixi carried her own grief at the loss of her mother. Guilt sank its claws into his heart and squeezed. This wasn’t going well.
“I apologize. I’m worried about you, Riq.”
“Atarflorinti,” Vixi said.
“Witnessed and accepted,” Tariq said a half-second later, his tone only slightly grudging.
Vixi stepped back and glared at them both. “Is this what you two are like when I’m not around?”
“Sometimes,” they both said at the same time.
“That’s better.”
Tariq looked down at their daughter with a bemused expression. “When did our little whirlwind surpass us in maturity?”
“About five minutes ago, and I’m not enjoying the experience. So will the two of you please fix whatever this is?” she retorted.
“That’s going to be a longer conversation. One that should involve chairs and varyn.”
Tariq actually smiled a little. “You’re not playing fair. You know that’s my favorite drink. Wait, how did you get the ingredients? I haven’t found anyone who will import it.”
“I found someone. Well, Vixi did. I just approached them with an offer.”
Vixi beamed. “Hezza B agreed? What did that cost you?”
