by Holly Rayner
Mia shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to get into the same situation your father was in before he died—owing people without a clear way to pay them off. I just wish that there was some way I could help her.” Mia explained her mother’s situation, how her body had built up a tolerance and the doctors kept having to increase dosages and change her medications. “Basically she’s in a situation now where she’s going to either run out of medications that work, or destroy her kidneys or liver.” Mia sighed.
“I hate this,” Rami said, jiggling Aziz as the infant began to fuss. Mia gave him a quick, almost sardonic look and reached out for the child, taking him in her hands and arranging him in the crook of her arm as she began to unbutton her blouse.
“He might not be hungry,” she told Rami, pulling her breast free of her nursing bra, “but that has never stopped him nursing yet.”
Rami smiled as he watched the one-month-old latch onto Mia’s nipple and begin to nurse eagerly. “I do hate it though,” he continued. “I promised you that I would take care of you—that I’d treat you like a princess, like the queen you are—and now I can barely even keep a roof over your head.”
“I didn’t get involved with you because you were rich, Rami,” Mia said firmly. “I fell for you because you’re kind, smart, funny, and sweet. Because you have a good heart.” Rami seemed to relax, sighing. “I was thinking there might be some kind of organization—a charity or something—that we could talk to about helping Mom pay for the treatment. It’s worth a try, right?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Rami agreed, nodding. He leaned in a little closer to Aziz. “This is why I love your mommy so much, son: she’s got an answer for everything.”
Mia laughed, shaking her head. “I do not!” She looked down at Aziz lovingly. “I’m just a little more used to not having money to throw around.”
Rami laughed. “Well you’re right about that,” he conceded. “In any case, I do think you’re the smart one in this relationship.”
Mia rolled her eyes, grinning with pleasure in spite of her embarrassment. “We’re both smart. Think of what a genius our little boy will be.”
Rami nodded, smiling. With the three of them together, it felt as though they could push their worries to the back of their minds—for a moment, at least.
SIXTEEN
While Mia could never fully forget the issue of her mother’s situation, the next day, having resolved to figure out what organizations and charities she might be able to talk to about getting help with funding, Mia was somewhat relieved at the possibility to lose herself in the needs of her son. She cuddled him late into the morning; she held him in his sling while she ate breakfast, and then, since Aziz was spending more and more time awake, she spent a little while playing with him before he nursed again.
“He’s getting bigger every time I see him,” Karima commented, sitting at the table while Mia nursed.
“He is,” Mia agreed, grinning down at the infant. “I swear, he grows a half-inch every day.”
“No wonder he’s constantly hungry,” Karima said, half-laughing. Mia jokingly groaned.
“If I’m not actually nursing him, I’m pumping so that someone else can feed him later,” she said, shaking her head with a smile. “But I wouldn’t give him up for anything.”
“He’s a sweet baby,” Karima told Mia. “Never seems to be upset for anything—at least not for very long.” Mia nodded.
“He’s not a fussy baby, that’s for sure.” Aziz began blinking slowly, and Mia felt his nursing efforts slowing as he began to grow drowsy.
“How’s your mother doing?” Karima asked.
“She’s okay,” Mia said, “but there’s a procedure she could have that would hopefully make her a lot better; we just can’t afford it.”
Karima nodded; she was much more realistic about the family’s new circumstances than his younger siblings. “What’s the procedure?”
Mia explained about the letter she had found, and Karima’s eyes widened at the mention of chemotherapy. “That seems really extreme—they must be hitting the last few things that they can do for her.”
Mia shrugged, gently disengaging Aziz’s mouth from her breast as he fell asleep and settling him once more in the sling.
“If they can do that, her other medications would—hopefully—have more effect.” Mia sighed. “I’m going to try and start contacting some charities to see if anyone can help us. I really want this for her, you know?”
Karima nodded. “I can understand that. If Ma was suffering, I’d do whatever I could to help her.” She paused for a moment before speaking again. “Do you want me to watch Aziz for a little while, so you can work on it? He’s sleeping very peacefully, I’m sure he won’t wake up for an hour at least.”
Mia considered the offer. “I think I’ll hold off,” she said finally. “I feel like I’m not spending as much time with the little stinker as I should. Anyway I’d hate to put you out when I’m home too.”
Karima shrugged. “Well—if you change your mind, you know I’m always happy to watch him,” she reminded Mia. “Even if you just need a nap or something.”
Mia smiled. “I appreciate it,” she said. “I think, as long as he’s asleep, I can manage. I just don’t want to feel like I’m neglecting my baby before he’s even two months old.”
“I don’t think you’re in any danger of that,” Karima said, rising from her chair. “Just let me know.”
Mia nodded and stood carefully, trying not to jostle her son and risk waking him from his contented sleep.
Mia went back into the bedroom that she shared with Rami and considered finding her laptop to start her research. But as she moved towards the desk, her phone buzzed on the bedside table. Mia glanced down to make sure that the noise hadn’t awakened Aziz, and was relieved to find that he was still deep asleep. She hurried to the table, picking up the phone and immediately tapping the ‘accept’ icon. “Hey Mom,” she said quietly. “I’ve got Aziz sleeping in the sling sleeping so I’ll have to be quiet. Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“I just got the strangest call,” Amie Campbell said, sounding confused but, to Mia’s surprise, happy.
“What kind of call?” Mia sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the pillows. Aziz murmured as he shifted against her, but showed no signs of waking.
“It was from the hospital,” Mia’s mother said. “They called to tell me that a charity had gotten in touch with them.”
Mia’s eyes widened. “A charity? What for?”
“I’d told them a few weeks ago that I wouldn’t schedule the chemo,” Amie explained. “They said that the charity contacted them this morning to say that they’d heard about my case and wanted to fund my treatment.”
Only the presence of her sleeping son prevented Mia from shrieking with joy. “Really? They’re going to be able to give you the treatment? That’s amazing!” Mia almost laughed at the effect of trying to keep her voice low and express how pleased she was at the same time. “But how did the charity even know about you? What’s the name of the organization?”
“They wouldn’t tell me,” Amie replied. “But they said that since they have confirmation of the money coming in, they wanted to schedule the treatment immediately.”
Mia shook her head in amazement, unable to quite wrap her mind around the fact that her mother’s problem had seemingly been solved so quickly and painlessly. The fact that the hospital couldn’t disclose the name of the charity made Mia uncertain, but it was such a neat solution that she didn’t want to try and push for more information. If it’s a mobster, or some company trying to improve their image, I don’t care. It could be a mass-murderer and right now I wouldn’t really care.
“You have to do it, Mom,” Mia said. “Call them back and agree to the earliest opening.”
“Are you sure?” Amie sounded concerned. “What if it’s a scam?”
“A scam? You mean the ever popular scam of giving a hospital money to pay for treat
ment and never getting anything in return?” Mia rolled her eyes, grinning with relief that her mother might soon be able to get better. “Seriously, Mom. You need to go ahead and do this.”
“Well, now that it’s possible,” Amie said, her voice suddenly sounding less certain, “I’m sort of worried about the side effects.”
“Mom.” Mia swallowed down an angry comment. “You need to have this done. The doctors think it’s the only thing that will really help you, right?”
“That’s true,” her mother said, conceding.
“Then do it. If you suffer with side effects then they can deal with that—it’s an expected part of the process, right? We’ll find a way to deal.”
“I guess.” Amie sighed. “I just…until about twenty minutes ago, I never really thought it was an option.”
“Well, now it is, Momma.” Mia said firmly. “If you don’t do this for yourself, do it for your grandson.”
Amie’s expression hardened. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it,” she said. “I’m relieved, of course, but I’m also just so worried, baby girl. I want so badly for this to work. I’m going to call them back now and schedule.”
Mia hurried her mother off the phone, telling Amie to let her know when the procedure would be happening so that she could be there for support. When she hung up, Mia found herself tempted to take Karima up on her offer of taking Aziz for a little while—not so that she could research charities, but so she could find Rami and celebrate the amazing solution that had appeared out of nowhere. Deciding they had plenty of time to celebrate without leaning on Rami’s sister, she instead continued to sit on the edge of the bed, smiling at her son and whispering to him that Granny would be all better soon.
SEVENTEEN
“You know,” Mia said as Rami slipped under the blankets next to her, “I don’t want to rush you or anything, but it’s occurred to me that we’ve been engaged for kind of a long time.”
Rami laughed, reaching out to wrap his arms around the woman he loved. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you’d like me to make an honest woman out of you?”
Mia smiled, lifting her hand to look at the engagement ring he had given her almost a year before.
It had been three months since his father’s death, and Rami had finally settled the last affairs of the estate. The family was not completely broke, and there had been a few salvageable ventures in his father’s portfolio—small business investments where debt hadn’t yet piled up—but Rami’s younger siblings were all looking at having to actually work for a living, instead of having the option to live off of their previously eye-watering trust funds.
“I know we won’t be able to have some huge, grand, luxury wedding,” Mia said, cuddling close to him. “Honestly, I’d be happy just to go to the Justice of the Peace and elope.” Rami shook his head, letting his hands wander over Mia’s body. He appreciated the subtle changes in her curves since she’d had his child; the fullness to her breasts, the slight roundness to her abdomen that hadn’t quite gone away yet, though breastfeeding constantly had helped Mia to lose basically all of the scant weight she had gained while pregnant. To think I was going to just let her have my child and then leave my life forever. What was I thinking?
“We can’t just elope,” Rami said, kissing Mia lightly on the lips. “My mother would kill me in my sleep if I didn’t have a proper wedding.”
Mia rolled her eyes, arching into Rami’s caresses as her body heated up. “First she won’t let you marry me at all, now we can’t just elope—there’s no pleasing that woman,” she joked.
Rami laughed, returning her kisses. “I think we can start thinking about a wedding. A small one, maybe; just family and close friends.”
“I would love that,” Mia told him, wrapping her arms around him and holding Rami close. “Let’s start…planning…tomorrow.”
Rami chuckled lowly as they both became too distracted, giving into the pleasure they gave each other.
***
The next morning, Rami was getting ready to go into the office when he realized that he needed to visit Mia’s mother. It had been two months since Amie Campbell received her chemotherapy treatment. She was still weak and couldn’t leave the house very much, but the worst symptoms of her disease had almost completely disappeared. The doctors had said that she could go back to taking her regular medication in another few months, and should soon be able to live an almost normal life.
The thought of visiting with Amie lingered in Rami’s mind throughout the day. He hadn’t mentioned that he would be visiting to his fiancée—he wasn’t sure how Mia would feel about the errand he had in mind—but he spent all day checking his watch, counting down to when he would be able to leave the office and visit his future mother-in-law.
Rami left as early as the demands of the day would allow, sending Mia a message that he had an errand to run, but should be home within an hour or two. Rami smiled to himself as he drove; he had had to give up most of his cars, but he had managed to justify keeping the most “sensible” of them—an SUV—on the basis of his growing family. He had thought that he would be depressed as he lost all of the things that had previously distinguished him as one of the elite, but he had instead discovered that he appreciated the few items he could keep a lot more than he ever had done when they were just objects which represented his wealth.
When Amie opened the door to her home, Rami was almost shocked at the way she looked. Even at her best, in the few times he had seen her, Amie had looked as though she might collapse at any moment. Now, however, while she still seemed a little weak, she was walking with ease, and her eyes were no longer full of pain and fatigue.
“Rami! What are you doing here?”
Rami laughed as his cheeks warmed up with a blush at the greeting. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said. “Mia doesn’t know I’m here—I’m not sure how she would feel if I told her.”
Amie raised an eyebrow but opened the door wider to let him in. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Rami took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Mia and I have been discussing our engagement,” he explained. “Now that everything is more settled, and things are more or less normal, we think that it’s time to start planning it.”
“That’s wonderful news!” Amie smiled broadly. “What did you need to talk to be about? Is Mia refusing to wear white or something?”
Rami laughed nervously. “No—no, she’s fine with wearing white,” he assured her. “I realized as I was getting ready this morning that I never asked your permission to marry your daughter.” Rami felt his cheeks heating up more and more as Amie stared at him in undisguised shock,. “I know it’s old fashioned, but I’d feel better…”
Before Rami could finish his sentence, Amie threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. “Of course you have my permission to marry my daughter!” Amie gave him a slightly tighter squeeze. “You’ve done all that anyone could ever ask to prove that you love her and will take care of her; that’s the only thing that could ever matter to me.”
Rami smiled at the older woman as she pulled back. “I know I haven’t always been as caring or as attentive as I should be,” he said, thinking of the months after he’d learned of his adoption and received his parents’ ultimatum.
“That’s all in the past,” Amie said, patting his shoulder affectionately.
Rami smiled, exhaling in relief that he hadn’t been met with any resistance—either to his proposal to finally marry Mia, or his gesture of getting her mother’s consent.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling so much better,” he said, giving Amie another quick hug. “I wish I could visit for longer, but Aziz is teething—and Mia will want me to get back so she can get some respite.”
Amie nodded, leading him to the door. “Of course, of course. I’m glad you came to see me at all!”
Rami turned to leave, nodding a last goodbye to his future mother-in-law.
At the last moment, Amie grabbed
his wrist, detaining him. “Before you go, I have to thank you.”
Rami stared at her in confusion. “Thank me? For what?”
Amie looked down at the floor for a moment before meeting his gaze, blushing slightly. “For—for helping me get well,” Amie said, almost stuttering. “I know it was you who donated the money to the hospital,” she explained, as Rami’s eyes widened in shock. “I understand that you probably wanted to stay anonymous, but I just can’t go through the rest of my life and not thank you for what you did for me.” Words were tumbling out of the woman’s lips as if she couldn’t get through them fast enough;