To be honest, I was thoroughly nervous, not knowing how my grandmother would react to Mazen’s presence. But I didn’t want to disappoint Mazen, who looked awfully excited about meeting her. I also couldn’t deny the thrill of having Mazen meet a family member of mine who wasn’t a jerk, or who’d had sex with his teenage sister and pointed a gun to my head to force marriage on me.
But that wasn’t something I wanted to think about right now.
“Will we be all right with just four guards?” Mazen was better at knowing when it came to things like that. Or maybe I only wanted a distraction from my anxious thoughts.
“It would be best if none of them were with us, since we wouldn’t attract anyone’s attention, but four is going to be fine. No one knows we’re here anyway,” Mazen said.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I offered him a nervous smile.
My grandmother’s memory was mostly stuck at a time when things were peaceful in her life, before she’d lost my grandfather or my mother. She was always waiting for my grandfather to come home from work, and for a phone call from my mother who was studying far away. This was her safe zone, a way for her mind to protect itself from crushing heartbreak.
It had been years since my grandmother recognized me as her granddaughter, the one whom she raised and loved unconditionally. That made me unspeakably sad, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of right now. It was what she would do when she met Mazen.
My grandmother was another version of the ‘pre-Mazen’ me. It was embarrassing to admit, even to myself – for so many reasons.
She was the sweetest and kindest person I’d ever known, but she’d gotten her facts wrong, and had taught me her beliefs and the truth as she knew it. It had taken a lot for me to find my black keys; she never even had the chance to find hers. I was afraid she would offend Mazen in some way, which would hurt me deeply.
I was glad that Mazen had dressed casually and I didn’t have to wonder what her reaction would be if he wore his usual garb. I was never going to tell him to change out of his thawb, if that was what he chose to wear. I would never want him to think that I was ashamed of him or his origins. I never would.
I took pride in who I’d married, and it wasn’t because he was a king. No, it was because I was married to the most compassionate and caring person I’d ever met.
Mazen taught me to live in the moment, which helped a lot with my anxiety over time. That was what I had been doing since we’d agreed to pay my grandmother a visit. I tried to shrug the bad thoughts away, went on with my day, and hoped for the best.
The uneasy feeling about the whole visit was probably showing on my face, but I tried to hide it with my smile as we hopped out of the car. Our guards, who had been in another vehicle, were waiting for us by the doors.
Our pace was fast as we walked through the lobby to my grandmother’s room. Everyone greeted Mazen and me with cheerful faces and bright smiles, though I doubted anyone could recognize Mazen – he had sunglasses and a cap on – but I had a feeling the staff had strict orders not to bother us.
The first few times I’d come here after I became a queen were chaotic. Hopefully, no one was taking pictures this time.
With a deep breath followed by a smile to my Mazen, I grasped the knob and swung the door open.
My smile grew as I saw the woman whom I loved so much sitting at her usual spot by the window, her head turned to gaze at the beautiful garden outside her room. Her white hair was lying neatly over her shoulders, as she swayed her rocking chair ever so slowly, seemingly lost in her thoughts.
Her head turned to look in my direction when she heard us come in, and my smile grew as our eyes locked. Oh, how I’ve missed her. It had been a month since we’d last seen each other, but it already felt like it was too long to me. I didn’t know if she felt the same way since time didn’t actually make any sense to her, given her condition.
“Marie!” My grandmother’s smile was wide as were her eyes, and my heart instantly warmed just at the sound of her sweet voice.
“Hey ther–” I stopped mid-sentence, my smile dropping and my eyes widening in shock. “Wait, what did you just call me?”
“Marie, come here, my sweet pumpkin, I’ve missed you so much!” She opened her arms in an invitation to hug her, and I accepted that invitation and ran to her.
I couldn’t contain my happiness as I threw myself into her arms with force. I was probably hurting her, but I didn’t even think about that. My tears escaped as a rush of mixed emotions filled my chest; I couldn’t even describe it.
“Mama!” I cried. “You know who I am!”
I couldn’t remember the last time that my grandmother had remembered me – it had been a long time. She always thought I was my mother, and sometimes, she didn’t acknowledge me at all. I loved visiting and talking to her, but I couldn’t deny that each and every time I left her, it was with a heavy heart and disappointment.
Right now, I couldn’t hold back my tears, nor my smiles. I couldn’t even contain my gushes. I was so happy and overwhelmed.
“Of course, I know who you are, silly! Do you think I would forget you just because you never visit anymore?” she said. It was as though nothing had ever happened to her, and for a second my mind wanted to believe that she was perfectly fine and cured.
There was no explanation for her to remember me all of a sudden. I knew Alzheimer’s had no cure, but I was also told that some days were better than others. Since today was a good day – I was going to make the best of it.
“I’m sorry, Mama, I just–” I started to apologize but my grandmother interrupted me.
“Don’t be sorry, sweet pumpkin; I know you’re busy with college. Abee calls me all the time, don’t worry.” She smiled as she told me she understood that studying was taking all of my time, and that my mother still called her daily.
My heart broke as I heard her words, and more tears fell as I knelt in front of her, but I wiped them away and smiled. I didn’t care what period of her life her mind had decided to be living in today. I was grateful that she at least remembered that I was in her life, which was so much better than all of those years when she didn’t know I existed at all.
“Yes, Mama, it’s school. I’m sorry. I’m glad Mom calls you.” I smiled at her and she hugged me one more time, even tighter this time.
The warmth I felt being this close to my grandmother was like waves and waves of positive energy and light were poured straight over my head. I wanted to tell her a million things, but, at the same time, didn’t know what to say.
It was always hard and stressful whenever I tried to tell her about current things or wanted to force her mind to remember me, so I always just went with however she wanted to remember me. Her doctors told me it was for the best.
“Who is he?” my grandmother’s question cut the silence and I broke our embrace as I suddenly remembered that we weren’t alone.
My head turned to look at my angel, seeing that he was standing a few steps away from my grandmother and me. I was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening that I’d completely forgotten that my husband was right there next to me.
“Oh, sorry.” I got up, wiping my tears and smiling nervously. I reached for Mazen’s hand and then I held it in mine as I introduced him to her, “Mama, this is Mazen, my–”
“Friend,” Mazen interrupted me. I looked at him with a question in my eyes, and he answered my silent question with a look that told me that he ‘got this’.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He smiled, offering her his free hand, which she took.
Her smile was careful as she looked him up and down, and I swallowed thickly, anxious again about her reaction. “Mazen? What kind of name is that? French? But you have a British accent,” she said. My heart was beating fast as I heard her asking many so questions in one breath. “Which I might add, I could listen to all day long,”
My mouth dropped, and my anxiety went right out the window. Mazen bent to kiss the back of her hand, the same way he used to do with his grandmother. I could swear that her eyes formed heart shapes right then and there.
“Oh, but that’s more French.” I couldn’t believe my ears. My grandmother was flirting with my husband!
“Mama!” I giggled.
“What? I didn’t say anything! Just stating the fact that I’m hearing and seeing something beautiful, or … someone.” She tried to fake innocence, but I wasn’t going to believe that – she was downright flirting.
Mazen smiled shyly. “I could say the same about you, ma’am.”
“You can call me Beth,” she replied.
I put my hands on my hips. “Seriously? Beth? Not even Elizabeth? Would you guys like some privacy?”
They both laughed. It was such a beautiful moment.
Magically, we got into a sweet conversation, the three of us. I was in disbelief all the while we sat there, talking and smiling. Getting some time with my real grandmother and not just what remained of her was one thing, but for her to actually get along with my husband was something else. It was beyond amazing, even if she didn’t really know he was my husband.
As much as I wanted to stay right there in her arms for days or even weeks, our time together had to end. We said goodbye and I noticed that Mazen left before me, to give us some time alone.
“Before you go, I want to ask one question,” my grandmother said, and I nodded with a smile. “When are you going to admit to him that you’re in love with him?”
I could feel my cheeks warming as I heard her question. “You think I’m in love with him?” I asked, my smile shy and my gaze dropping to the floor.
“Oh, I know that you’re in love with him, sweetie. It’s written all over your face,” she said. “As for him? Oh, my! The boy looks at you as if you’re his only reason for living.”
I gazed long at my grandmother. “He does?” My heart was fluttering.
“It’s as plain as day, kiddo.” She smiled. “You keep him.”
“That’s the plan, Mama.” I smiled.
“Good girl.”
It was the first time in years I’d left my Mama without feeling disappointment or sadness. I left with a wide smile and a light heart. It was such a special day, one that I would remember forever.
Mazen was waiting for me in the quiet hallway, and I suddenly forgot all about how we were in a public place. I forgot all about the paparazzi. I could only think of how much I wanted to hug him, and so I did.
“Thank you,” I said into his chest.
“I didn’t do anything, princess.”
“You did more than you can imagine. I’m so happy.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “It went really well, huh?”
“It was perfect,” I told him. “She said you look at me as if I were your only reason for living.”
Mazen backed away an inch to look into my eyes. “But, princess, you truly are.”
My world felt complete as I kissed him; my heart was singing and my spirit was high. I thought I could never be happier. We walked out of the nursing home with our fingers tangled, and the smiles never leaving our faces.
“So …” Mazen said, his eyes playful, “Sweet Pumpkin? You have so much explaining to do!”
“Oh, shut it!” I giggled.
Mazen and I weren’t like any other couple, and by that – I don’t mean because he was a king and I’m his queen. Well, not only that, at least. Most people would be happy to change the scenery, or travel somewhere, and spend time enjoying the fact that they didn’t have to go to work.
As for us? Our celebration on breaks and days off was all about being with each other. We didn’t wait for special occasions to give each other presents, we did it whenever. We both had everything we could possibly need or want, and maybe more. The best gift he could give me was spending time with me, just as I was the best gift to him, as he’d always said.
The past two days had been blissful. Back home, our time together was usually at night when both of us were tired. We would travel to a new country almost weekly and sometimes twice a week, but we weren’t always together, and it was always about work, hardly ever for pleasure.
As that became our norm, spending time in jets wasn’t as bad as it once was. I’d outgrown my fear of flying long ago, as long as Mazen was with me, it seemed like nothing mattered. But it wasn’t just that. I actually couldn’t feel bored during the long hours in the air. I used the travel to enjoy my last bit of my time with Mazen before we had to go back to caring for our Kingdom.
We always spent our vacations indoors, talking and touching. I missed our honeymoon phase, when we went out dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I missed walking with him and laughing. I missed our time in London. So much.
But I understood it wasn’t an option given our positions, as well as for safety reasons. Having him close was all I’d ever really cared about.
So, sitting here in one of our planes wasn’t at all bad. It was as good as spending time with him in our bed at home. I was listening to him as he told me stories about his childhood, which he knew were one of my favorite things to hear about. I wore a goofy smile as I learned something new about him as a child, and my smile turned into laughter as he kept teasing me about why my grandmother had called me sweet pumpkin. One of his theories was that I must’ve had chubby cheeks at some point in my life, which was true, but I wasn’t going to tell him that he was right.
Mazen liked to tease me, and he knew I absolutely loved it. His playfulness was one of the many reasons I’d fallen in love with him, and it always gladdened me to see his joyful eyes.
Our conversation led us to Mona and her daughter. I found myself curious about how Mona was able to take care of her daughter when she had to be with Mazen when he was only an infant.
“Well, she really didn’t have to be with me all day, only when my mother couldn’t,” he said.
“Which was all of the time,” I said with a smile – surely, she was busy with her duties then.
“Not really, her responsibilities weren’t as substantial until she became Queen. I wasn’t very little then.”
“Oh, yes. Right,” I said. Sometimes it slipped my mind that Mazen wasn’t born a Crown Prince. He was one of the King’s grandchildren, but not his first grandson – Jasem was. However, Mazen was the first-born son of the Crown Prince at the time – His Royal Highness Qasem Alfaidy, may God rest his soul. It was known that he would inherit the title and responsibilities of Crown Prince once his father was crowned. He would then inherit the throne and become King, which was what happened even before his father’s death.
“Rodina didn’t need as much equipment when she was younger as she does now. They used to live with us in the palace. Many servants helped Mona, as well.”
“What about her husband? He lived in the palace, too?”
“Erm, no. He died before Rodina was born.”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Oh, my God! How awful! Poor Mona.”
“Not really,” Mazen said and I was shocked. He looks away as if he regretted saying that or didn’t want me to ask more questions – because he knew I would.
“What do you mean? Why would you say that?”
“Look, princess,” he said in a soft voice after taking a deep breath, “it’s not really my place to talk about him. For one, he’s dead and buried. Mona would tell you if she wants to, but I doubt she ever would. And, it’s not something you’d want to hear about, so, please, let it go.”
My curiosity hit its peak as I listened to Mazen talk, or more accurately, talk about how he didn’t want to talk about Mona’s husband. But I decided to do as he asked and let it go. For now.
I rested my head on the back of my seat and looked out the window at the Kingdom that I ruled with the man sitting next to me. It looked like a beautiful piece of art from above.
I sighed; my wonderful break would be coming to an end in a matter of minutes. I thought about the duties that surely had piled up in the past couple of days, though I knew Rosanna had done a great job in my absence, like she always did.
One thing that I was enthusiastic about was Donia’s wedding next month. I truly looked forward to attending it. Little did I know that it would be a life-changing experience for me.