by Rula Sinara
Love,
Maddie
HOPE SHIELDED HER eyes from the brilliant Kenyan sun and searched for her ride. She covered her mouth and coughed when an old Fiat swerved from the lane near her and sent a puff of exhaust fumes into her face. The sounds of Kiswahili, Kikuyu, Luo and even English blended together with many more in a chaotic rhythm she would have taken for granted only a few months ago.
From the grating sounds of traffic to the barefoot drummer on the side of the road, and from the swish of an expatriate’s skirt to the tribal beads clicking against the chest of the woman they adorned, all the sights and sounds filled her. All of it bound and lifted her senses and the air around her. This was all a part of her. This was her life.
She turned toward the double honk to her left. Jamal pulled up in his large black sedan and jumped out to get the pile of luggage she guarded.
“Jambo, Hope. It is so good to see you again. Dalila can’t wait.”
“Jambo, Jamal. It’s wonderful to be home.”
Hope took two carry-ons and climbed into the backseat. She leaned back, closed her eyes and sighed. She was here now. She needed to accept that there wasn’t anything else out there in the world. Nothing else in store for her. She’d had her getaway, her break, her time to decompress. That was all it was supposed to have been. Only now, a part of her felt worse than when she’d first left Kenya.
“Jamal, can we stop at Chuki’s? Or are Mama and Baba already home?”
“We have time,” he said, switching lanes.
Hope let the vibrations of the car soothe her stiff muscles. The flight had been awful. Crowded and turbulent and suffocating. They passed the hotel where Anna and Jack stayed during supply trips into Nairobi. She couldn’t wait to see them. She’d see Jack sooner because of the lab. She couldn’t wait to fill him in on how wonderful his parents were and how they were doing. And on Chad and Ryan’s antics. Especially on Maddie’s recovery.
She’d definitely have to be selective in what she said about Ben. How impossible it had been not to fall for him. How impossible it was to keep him from her mind. She’d leave those details out.
What she felt for Ben would be her secret. Her regret.
Her chin quivered like Maddie’s had when she’d said goodbye. Hope scratched her chin, so that if Jamal saw her through the rearview mirror, he would think it was merely an itch.
They passed a small grassy park where a man was showing off a caged monkey to a group of tourists. Anna would have a fit if she were here. Maddie, too. Funny how alike the two were.
Jamal finally turned down the street that had become sort of an art district for locals. Very few tourists knew about it. Chuki’s family lived at the first corner, on the upper level of the small café they owned. Nothing fancy. Old blue metal chairs, tile floors and chipped paint. But the place had character. It reminded her of how Brie felt about her family pub.
“I’ll be right back.”
Hope jumped out of the car and ran in. Chuki’s twelve-year-old sister, Ita, saw her and came running.
“Hope! I didn’t know you were back.”
“I just arrived and came straight here. See how important you are? Tell me, are you still okay with your medicine or are you running out?”
“I’m okay for now. Your brother came to check on me at least five times.”
Five times? Simba? He’d promised to help out, but Ita didn’t usually need refills that often in three months, even when Hope was around.
“Did he take you to see a doctor?”
“He said he’d try to set something up, but it’s not for a few weeks. I think he just kept coming to irritate Chuki. They argue a lot, and when he leaves, she tells me he’s irritating and full of himself. What’s that mean?”
“It means he’s lion headed,” Hope said, laughing. It sounded like Simba.
“Chuki told me you were going to come back Americanized. Are you?”
Hope closed her eyes briefly. “Chuki has a wild imagination. I’m the same Hope you last saw.” Only heartbroken, and this time no surgery in the world can fix me.
“Hope? Eek!” Chuki screamed loud enough to announce her arrival to the whole street. Hope embraced her friend. “I want to hear everything. How did it go? What was it like? Did you meet any Hollywood stars? Did you fall in love?” Chuki fluttered her eyes and fanned her face.
“It was beautiful, especially the seasons, and the people were wonderful. And no, no movie stars or falling in love,” she lied. It was good to see her again. “Come sit. Ita, go bring her a Stoney.”
Oh, she’d missed her favorite soda, Stoney Tangawizi. Ginger perfection. An American company made it, yet she couldn’t find it there. She sat across from Chuki.
“Ita said that Simba came by a few times?”
“He did,” Chuki said, her cheeks flushing.
Very interesting.
“It was good of him,” Chuki went on. “And now, of course, he won’t have to because you’re back.” She smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She wiped the mouth of the bottle Ita brought with a clean paper napkin and passed it to Hope.
Hope stayed at Chuki’s long enough to finish her drink and satisfy her friend with general details of her trip. Then she gave Chuki a kiss on both cheeks and headed to the car.
What could be more grounding than seeing her friend again, checking on Ita, sitting in a café that had Nairobi in everything about it, down to the mismatched clay pots decorating the counter near the register? Yet it was as though she was still floating over the ocean, lost. Everything felt different.
“Home?” Jamal asked, looking at her in the rearview mirror. That loaded word. She wasn’t sure what defined it anymore.
“Yes. Home.”
*
BEN SET HIS carry-on by the door and took a minute to just listen. He’d called Nina, and she’d told him that she’d bring the kids over and get them ready for bed to save him the trouble of picking them up at their place. He could hear rustling through the monitor, but no babbles. He met her coming out of the hallway.
“Welcome home,” Nina said.
“Thanks for watching the kids.” He went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
“How did it go?” Nina asked, picking up her purse and keys.
He took a swig. “It went well. Very well.”
Nina sat down at the table. Her face fell, but he knew she wasn’t wishing that he’d blown the interviews. Like him, she was just wishing the decision didn’t have to involve a sacrifice.
“What are you going to do?” she asked. “I don’t know if I can handle not seeing these kids as much as I do if you decide to take them with you. I’d miss them so much.”
The way he missed Hope. It was unbearable. Their last conversation, just before he’d left for DC, had left him lost. Mentally and emotionally lost. He’d used every ounce of his marine discipline and focus to get him through those interviews because he couldn’t get her out of his head. One company had had him scheduled for a mandatory lie detector test on the same day he’d arrived, since he was from out of town, and they wouldn’t even consider talking to him if he failed.
He’d passed.
Only because they hadn’t asked him about Hope.
If he’d been hooked up to the detector when she’d begged him to ask her to stay, when she’d made her feelings so clear and he’d acted like a brick wall, and if they’d asked him questions like, “Do you love Hope Alwanga? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?” he would have failed had he said no.
“I know, Nina. Trust me, I’ve thought about that. I know how much a part of their lives you’ve been and how much you’ve been there for me. But the past three days just about killed me. I don’t know what’s happened to me. I used to spend the majority of a year away from them, and all I could think about in my hotel room at night was how did I do it? I tried to remember what I’d done to harden myself and I couldn’t. So trust me, I get it. But I don’t know if I can be away from
them, either.”
A six-figure job in DC, practically in the palm of his hand. His if he wanted it. All he had to do was accept and they’d start the ball rolling. Their words.
And then there was Hope’s last request. The same request Zoe had once made. Both of them had asked him not to leave the kids. To put them first.
“I’m going to go look in on them,” he said.
“I should get back to Eric anyway.” Nina put her hand on his arm. “I used to reassure Zoe—every time she had to make a big decision on her own because you were overseas—that she’d be okay. To just listen to her heart, and everything would make more sense.”
Ben locked the door behind Nina when she left. He knew how to listen to his gut. Wasn’t listening to your heart the same thing? Mostly? All “making sense” meant was that you’d finally figured out the answers. The problem was, this time, there weren’t any.
*
RYAN AND CHAD were sound asleep.
Ben walked by Maddie’s room and could hear her talking, her words too soft to make out clearly. The door was ajar, and he peeked inside. She was holding a photograph of Zoe. She was talking to her mom—out loud.
Hearing her voice still felt like a privilege he could lose so easily. What if she wasn’t okay and those therapy sessions weren’t keeping her emotionally strong? He entered the room and sat on the edge of her bed. He took the framed picture of Zoe from Maddie and set it back on her nightstand.
“What were you thanking Mommy for?”
Maddie turned to her side and made herself comfortable against her pillow, but tilted her face toward him.
“For listening. I asked her to help you be okay and to keep us together as a family. And she answered.”
Ben swallowed hard. He cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked.
“She answered? How?”
“She gave us Hope. Even if Hope didn’t get to stay forever. You’re here.”
Dear God. The day Hope had given her the first bracelet. No wonder she’d been so attached to it at school. It’d been a sign, in its way, that her mom was still there, listening to her when he didn’t even know what to listen for. And now she had three hanging on a hook over her bed.
She caught him looking at them.
“I know what she told me the bracelets mean, but I just think of them as me, Mommy and Hope.”
Ben pulled the covers up for her and kissed the top of her head.
He wasn’t the only one missing Hope.
*
HOPE HAD BEEN BACK for three weeks now, and drowning herself in her old routine had failed to make anything feel right. Nothing here was normal anymore.
She’d spent all of yesterday through today seeing patients in the emergency room, and was already wiped out. Any rest she’d gotten had been negated. She flopped onto a stool in Simba’s lab and waited for him to nag about her sandals. To her surprise, he pulled up a stool and sat.
“What happened over there, Hope? What’s going on with you?”
“Like what? I’m doing everything I ever did before.”
“Exactly. You’re miserable. That wasn’t the point of your trip away.”
“Oh? Perhaps you wanted to get rid of me so that you’d have an excuse to go visiting Chuki.” She bit her lips to hide a smile.
Simba shook his head as if she was going to make him lose it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I kept an eye on her just as I promised. Actually, I think she hates me.”
“Ah, yes. My brother has finally run into a woman who doesn’t melt at his feet.” This had potential.
“Stop changing the subject and talk to me. I’m your brother. All I wanted was to give you a chance to grow up. I don’t mean academically or chronologically. I mean, you know… Let you reach your genetic potential.”
Wow. So emotional, Simba. No wonder you irritated Chuki.
“Didn’t you learn anything in getting away from here?”
Like how painful it is to find love and lose it?
“Yes.” She grabbed a tissue from her pocket and wiped her nose. “I figured out what I don’t want. I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want to walk out that door to go home and get hit by some random car and die, leaving nothing that was truly me behind to be remembered by.”
He didn’t speak. He probably knew what was coming from.
Hope dried her eyes. “I love you, Simba. I know I promised Mama and Baba, but the thought of joining their practice makes me want to throw myself in front of a car.”
Simba scratched his forehead and chuckled. “Well, it’s about time, Hope.”
Jack walked into the lab with a bounce in his step and went for a box of sterile gloves.
“Hi, Hope, Simba.”
“Did you hurt your foot or something?” Simba asked, teasing. “You’re walking funny.”
“No. I just have news. Anna’s pregnant.”
Hope gasped and stood up to hug him.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” she said.
“Congratulations, man,” Simba added.
The phone rang, and Jack ripped off a glove to answer it.
“Maddie, my girl! How’s my favorite niece?”
Hope rubbed her hands against her hips and stood waiting, anxious to hear Maddie’s voice. She’d gotten her letter shortly after she’d returned to Kenya. It was handwritten because Maddie had said she was getting extra credit at school for writing a letter to a pen pal in another country. But nothing could come close to talking to her.
“No kidding,” Jack continued. “Cool. Okay. Great. Is Grandma or Grandpa there? Let me say hello. Take care, Maddie.” Jack finished listening to Nina, then hung up.
“Wait. Didn’t Maddie ask to talk to me? Didn’t you see me waiting?” Hope asked.
Jack shrugged.
“She didn’t say so, and I got distracted. Sorry, Hope. Next time.”
Hope’s insides sank into her sneakers.
Jack waved a finger at her brother.
“David, I forgot about something I was supposed to tell you. It’s about a shipment we’re getting. You hanging out here, Hope? We could all grab lunch later.”
“No. I’m going home,” Hope said. “I’m done.”
*
DINNER LAST NIGHT had been pivotal. Her parents had been talking nonstop about their latest patient. Some potential Olympian. And about the new timeline for Hope’s degree now that she was back. It wasn’t until Hope had raised her voice and demanded they be quiet that they’d stopped and listened to her.
She’d changed, she told them. She’d always be their little girl, but she was also an adult who was accomplished and had ideas and had the right to make herself happy.
She’d taken them by surprise, but instead of coming down hard on her, they’d listened. She’d spoken, and they’d listened, and no one had expressed disappointment in her. They all still loved her.
And now, the next day, for all her so-called freedom, Hope stood in her family’s lush courtyard next to a fig tree, bracing herself for one of her parents’ boring, professional dinners and feeling utterly empty.
She thought about leaving and escaping to Chuki’s, but Simba told her that Zamir was coming to this dinner, too. She was prepared to tell him, once and for all, to just back off in terms of his personal interest, but really he wasn’t a bad guy. He was stable. They shared careers, and he respected her.
She grabbed a fig leaf and crushed it in her hand, not caring if the milky sap from the stem irritated her skin. There she was, trying to fit herself into a round hole again. Who said she needed anyone? Who cared if her parents assumed she’d marry someday? She didn’t have to.
She was going to devote herself to studying pediatrics, as well as public health. She wanted to found an organization dedicated to raising global awareness of the basic medical needs for underprivileged families, particularly children, and to raise funds to support getting supplies and care out to those, even in remote areas, who wouldn�
��t otherwise have it. Not just mobile clinics, but more permanent setups.
She didn’t have all the details figured out yet, but the ideas kept coming. They made her feel fired up. Energized. Both Ben and Simba had been right. If she discovered what she was passionate about, she’d never tire of doing it.
Like a parent who never tires of their children, no matter how demanding or exhausting they can be.
She looked at her watch. The guests would be arriving any second now.
“That poor tree looks like it could use some medical care.”
She froze, only moving her fingers to release the leaf she’d crushed into the pile she’d formed at her feet.
Only one man had that voice. Only one voice had the power to awaken every cell, every atom, in her body. She didn’t dare turn around. What if her ears were playing tricks on her? It couldn’t be him.
“The tree will survive. It has strong roots,” she said, still facing away and biting her lip till it hurt.
“What if it had its roots dug up and got transplanted?” This time she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. It brushed her ear. “What would its chances of survival be?”
She closed her eyes. Dare she hope?
“All it would need,” she said, “is some nurturing and love. If it has what it needs, it’ll grow.” She almost choked on her last words. Unwilling to believe he was really here.
She felt warm hands on her shoulders, and she gasped. He turned her around and she gazed at him. It was really him. Here. In Kenya. Looking at her. Touching her.
“Ben?” Her chest heaved. She put her hands on his chest, spreading her trembling fingers, needing to be sure he was real. “What are you doing here? This…this is Africa.”
He scratched his head, and the corner of his mouth quirked the way it always did when he smiled. “Africa? Really? I wonder how I got here without knowing that?”
A small laugh escaped her, and she put her head against his chest. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss him. But she knew her family was watching. And just because he was here didn’t mean that he was staying. Maybe he’d taken a trip to see Jack. Maybe he had brought the kids to see their cousins.