Chapter Thirteen
Adil could feel the irritation and frustration coiling inside him as the minister of finance droned on and on. The man had a gift for turning mountains into molehills and for making sure that things that should have taken some twenty minutes take an hour. The man had gone over the same budgeting restrictions twice now, and Adil was sure that the other members of the committee sighed with relief when he finally brought it to a close.
"I think we've heard enough to make our decision, minister," he said, trying to keep his voice as kind and as level as he could. "Thank you."
As the meeting ended and he headed out towards his dark car, he couldn't stop his thoughts from turning to Annabel as they so often did these days.
Sakhi was one of the greatest cities in the world, with a tradition that went back centuries and a modern sensibility for skyscrapers and ultramodern fare that could compete with Tokyo and London, but it was lacking these days.
Adil wasn't sure that he understood it himself. No matter what he planned or what business called him to Sakhi, there was always a part of him these days that longed to be at the hacienda on the edge of the desert. Just seeing Annabel and Marissa after a few days away was like waking up from a bad dream. Suddenly all of the stress and frustration of the day before was gone, and he was where he wanted to be, doing exactly what he wanted to do.
It was still early enough to call Annabel, and like a silly teenager, he counted the rings until she picked up. It only took three, and there was a slightly breathless quality to her words that made him wonder if she had run for her phone.
"Hi!" she said. "It was getting late enough I wasn't sure that you would get to call..."
"Believe me, I didn't think that I was going to get to either," he said making a face. "but right now, about the last thing in the world that I want to talk about is the budgeting plans for the trade commission this year. Tell me what you are doing today instead."
He leaned back in the plush leather seat of his car and let his eyes drift closed as she spoke. Strange, Adil had never thought that he would be fascinated to hear about a mother talking about the fact that she and her daughter had done plant rubbings with thin paper and crayons that day, but here he was.
"And let's see, I made us a roasted garlic and bean soup for lunch, and Marissa liked that a great deal. I wonder if it's one that you would like as well; I could certainly cook it for you when you got back. I sincerely doubt that Marissa will mind having it again."
"That sounds very good," he said with a chuckle. "I've been eating terribly since I've been back in the city, nothing but street food and whatever catering the men running the meetings have decided is appropriate."
"Aw, poor thing. We'll be sure to feed you up when you get back."
Suddenly, Adil found it in himself to hate this arrangement. Sometimes he could be gone for four or five days from the desert. He hadn't been kept away more than week, but it was bound to happen at some point. Flying back and forth was simple enough, but the sheer amount of time away was beginning to wear on him.
He listened as Annabel told him about what else they had been doing, but a part of his brain was working fast. He had thought for the first few months that he was simply a little restless at being in the city because the desert was calling him, because he had always felt as if he were made for the desert. Now, though, he realized that whatever pull the desert had on him, it was nothing compared to the pull that Annabel and Marissa had. It was the small family that he had found, and suddenly, he did not want to be without them. It was a strange realization, and he didn't notice how deeply in thought he was until Annabel laughed at him.
"What, what is it?"
"You are not listening to me at all," she said with a giggle. "I just told you that Marissa is really enjoying her modern warfare and tactics class at the school."
"Well, it is a very good school," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "I am certain that their curriculum is well-chosen for the future leaders of the world."
She laughed again, and he realized he had never quite heard a sound that he enjoyed so well.
"All right, that's your story so you should stick with it," she said. "But it really does sound as if you need a bite to eat and some sleep. I don't know if it's right or not, but when you said hello, your voice made it sound as if you have been dragging yourself through the worst parts of the apocalypse."
Adil sighed.
"I suppose it has felt a bit like that lately," he said. "I wanted to see if it was possible to get home tonight, but I am not sure it wouldn't be better to fly in tomorrow morning."
She sighed, and he could hear a genuine longing in her voice for him.
"I want nothing more than for you to be sleeping next to me tonight, but it probably is best for you to stay where you are. Getting on your plane tonight is just more trouble, and that might mean that you are even more exhausted when you get here.
"Get some sleep, and maybe we'll see you for lunch tomorrow?"
"Breakfast if I can swing it," he promised, and she laughed again.
"Just get some rest. I... I am thinking of you, all right? And Marissa is too."
"All right, that sounds good. I am thinking of you every moment, and I will get back to you and Marissa as soon as I can."
They said their good-nights, but Adil did not immediately start driving. Instead he sat with his eyes closed, thinking about Annabel and her touch, her smile, and her grace.
When he had begun this endeavor, the quest to sire an heir with a woman he knew was a good mother, it had seemed very clear to him. A part of him had assumed that when he found her, a part of him had recognized what a good parent she would be and that she would be an excellent choice. Now he was wondering if it was something a great deal more primal, a great deal more basic than that.
The need that he had for her was elemental and primal, a hunger that seemed to reach throughout him. The fact that he would not see her that night made something inside him want to roar. The fact that he would see her as soon as he could tomorrow made that fury subside a little bit.
Back at the penthouse he stayed at when he was in the city, there was a little butterfly toy he had purchased for Marissa on a whim. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of street vendors who plied their ancient trade in the older parts of the city, and one morning he had gone walking there. There was an older man who seemed to supplement his pension by making cunningly-wrought insects out carefully cut bits of soda cans. Adil had bought a butterfly for Marissa, but now he realized how very much the little girl would like it if she could see the craftsman at work. he smiled to think of how much her eyes would light up when she saw the man's clever tin snips come out.
Perhaps there was a solution to this problem, even if it was one that would take a little work.
***
When Annabel ended the call and turned around, she received a shock when she realized that a sleepy-eyed Marissa was lurking in the doorway behind her. At first she was simply startled, and then she went back over what she and Adil had said. Some of the conversations they had were really ones she would rather not share with her daughter, but this one had been fine.
"Oh my gosh, you gave me such a scare," she said, coming to her daughter. "You're meant to be in bed."
"Wanted water," Marissa said, slightly grumpy, and Annabel sighed.
"All right, honey, let's get you some water, and then back to bed, all right?"
Marissa nodded, and followed her mother to the kitchen. After sipping from her favorite glass, a small one with a bright cartoon fox on it, she glanced up at her mother.
"Was that Adil? Is he coming home tonight?"
"No, pumpkin. It sounds like his business ran late, and he's going to have to stay there for tonight. He's tired, and it's not good for him to fly so late and make himself even more tired."
"If he gets too tired, it'll be easier for him to get sick," Marissa nodded, parroting something she had heard her mother say from time to time. She looked resigned to Adil being gone, but she still sighed.
"I like it best when Adil is here with us," she said to her mother, and Annabel squeezed her hand.
"Very honestly, me too, pumpkin. But he'll be back by lunch tomorrow, and that's pretty good, right? We'll get to see each other, and eat together, and maybe watch a few movies and take a jeep out into the desert, doesn't that sound like fun?"
Marissa brightened up a little, but there was still a wistful look on her face when she climbed back into bed. It startled Annabel all over again how much she had grown over just the past four months in Sakhi. Ever since starting the treatment recommended by Dr. Singh, Marissa had been growing healthier and more vibrant by the day. With a guilty twinge, Annabel had realized how she hadn't even noticed how much weight Marissa had lost during her illness, and how skinny she became. Now her daughter will filling out, and with all of the sunshine and exercise, she was turning brown and healthy in the desert air.
"I just want Adil here," she said, turning on her side, and Annabel gave her a little kiss before turning off the light.
Back in her own bedroom, Annabel stretched out on the large bed, realizing how empty it felt. It was on nights like this when it was most difficult to think of the future, but at the same time, it was all that she could end up doing.
She knew the ins and outs of their bargain. After all the time that she had spent thinking about them, she knew them very well. She was going to give him a child. She was going to be the mother to that child, and someday, that child would be sheikh. It had all seemed so neat and compact when she was still in New York. It had been a desperate bargain, one she might have turned away from entire if Marissa had been a little less sick or if something about Adil had not grabbed her as hard as it had.
In Sakhi, though, things felt more muddled. She was seeing the shape of things, and she didn't know how to feel. When she and Marissa and Adil were together, it was magical. She could feel a shining net cast around them, protecting them, keeping them together and safe and sound. There was a kind of wonder to it, how happy three people could be together.
Then he left, and though there was plenty to see and do, and Marissa was always her delight, doubt crept in. Adil would call, and even though sometimes those calls were brief, they always left her warmed. however when they ended, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had a life beyond her, some kind of invisible path that she could not see.
He sounded different when he called, as well. There was always an edge to his voice, an impatience, perhaps even an arrogance. He was always kind to her. He always asked after Marissa. However, Adil felt... different in the city in a way that she could not precisely name, and it made her uneasy.
Was this her fate? Were she and Marissa meant to live in a strange bargain with Adil and Sakhi? She thought of the Greek goddess Persephone who had eaten six pomegranate seeds and earned herself six months in the Underworld and six months living above in the sunlight. Was that what she had created for herself and Marissa?
When Adil slept next to her, one arm curled around her or when she was cling to his side, these questions never occurred to her. Instead, she was surrounded by safety and warmth. on nights where she was alone, however, the doubts crowded in, and sometimes, she didn't sleep until the first light of dawn streaked the sky.