by Risk, Mona
“It’s turned to icy rain where I am now. How about around you? Have they cleared the tarmac, and the wings of the planes? Is it safe to fly?”
“Yes, everything is fine. The wings are being deiced and the tarmac salted.”
Over the loudspeaker, the head stewardess requested the passengers to turn off their electronic devices. “Greg, I have to shut off my phone. I’ll call as soon as I arrive.”
“Bye, Roxy. Take care.”
She pushed the off button and shoved her phone in her bag. The plane slowly moved on the tarmac as she finished her drink and handed the glass to the stewardess. Her gaze fixed on the window, Roxanne pictured Greg clenching his steering wheel and cursing her boss at the top of his lungs. Exactly as he’d done when they’d left Lou’s office.
Her two days in Atlanta had passed in the blink of an eye with Greg at her side.
Everything had gone too fast, their shopping together, the few hours at the offices of KNR, and the endless packing. He’d helped every step of the way, asking for break here and there to rest and kiss. Long passionate kisses that heated her all over, promising more pleasure if she’d only allow him. “Later,” she promised herself. “After I fix the mess I’ve created.” After she set the past to rest and felt free to entertain a relationship again.
Dear Greg, she already missed him. He hadn’t complained about sleeping on the living room sofa although he’d muttered something about a cold shower when she retired to her bedroom.
The engines groaned and the plane lifted off the runway, rising in the night. Down there the city unfolded like a dark map crisscrossed by lit ribbons of icy highways and roads. Soon Atlanta shrank to a flat black carpet spotted with sparkling dots and the plane slowly slipped into a cocoon of clouds.
Roxanne lowered the shade and rested her head against the back of her seat. Images and conversations cluttered her mind. Greg had mentioned that when she returned they’d have to talk and plan. She was ready to listen. If only his plans could match her heart’s secret desire.
For the first time in her life, she longed for tranquility. A peaceful existence, preferably in Fort Lauderdale, where she could continue to work and enjoy the beach and the pool. Big bonus, Greg’s presence.
Except for the hours he’d spent at the hospital, he’d been at her side every moment. And she’d relished their togetherness.
Could she dare dream of a future with him?
Greg was attracted to her but... To marry a woman expecting another man’s child was a different story that not too many men could stomach.
She gently rubbed her belly. “Little one, I love you,” she murmured. “Will Greg accept you?” What about Nabil’s parents? How would they react if they ever learn the truth?
“Here is a menu.” The stewardess interrupted her musing. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Just a bottle of water.” Later she ordered the chicken meal. She wasn’t particularly hungry but forced herself to eat a small portion. Greg had recommended not skipping meals or snacks and she’d promised to obey her doctor’s orders. He’d also given her a supply of Zofran for morning sickness.
After dinner, Roxanne raised the footrest and threw a blanket over herself. Overhead lights automatically dimmed to allow passengers to sleep.
Tomorrow might be a difficult day after a long flight to Dubai with a stopover of several hours and a connection to Baghdad. She’d always been exhilarated by a challenging assignment. Not this time. She’d had it with adventure and excitement. Weary and anxious, she wriggled to find a comfortable position.
Sleep eluded her. The present trip rattled her nerves and the cool poise she’d enveloped herself with until now was slowly eroding. Was it because of her condition and her instinctive fear for her baby, or because she didn’t know what to expect from her visit to Baghdad?
Peace or turmoil? Truth or lies? Hatred or love? The words swirled in her mind like a monotonous mantra until she drifted off.
****
“Good to see you, Roxanne.” Steve Cooper, a photographer at KNR, held her in a bear hug. “It’s been more than two months.”
“Only two months since the last time we worked together.” Such a short period of time, yet her life had changed so drastically with two new comers monopolizing her thoughts—a baby not even born and a dashing doctor she already missed so much. She tiptoed and planted a kiss on the blond giant’s cheek. “How are things here, Steve?”
“The usual. A quiet month, then a blast to remind us that this is still a war zone. But don’t worry, I’ve arranged for you to have transportation and an armed escort.” He turned his head and waved to two uniformed hunks. “Meet your watchdogs. Brian Hughes and Joe Gilmore.”
“Welcome to Baghdad, Ma’am,” the men chorused.
“Nice meeting you, Brian, Joe. And please call me Roxanne.”
“Let me help,” Joe took her carry-on and heavy handbag. “We’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”
“We’ll be at your disposal for the time you spend here,” Brian added.
“Thank you, guys. I have two suitcases.” They walked to the baggage claim. Roxanne knew her way around the international airport. But she winced at the sight of bearded men in long djellabahs ogling her. The harassing and groping she’d experienced in a back street of Baghdad came back to haunt her. Nabil wasn’t here to make her feel safe with a reassuring smile and a hand on his gun. Her companions must have noticed the lurid stares cast in her direction.
“Not safe to be so pretty, Roxy girl,” Steve muttered between his teeth. “Especially when they don’t see many foreign women around here.” His chin high, he stepped in front of her and darted dark scowls around him. Brian and Joe sidled to her left and her right. Protected by a human fortress of bulging muscles, she couldn’t help chuckle at the picture she made, framed by the three hunks.
“Thank you, guys. I know they just stare and wouldn’t dare approach me in the middle of the airport. Still, it’s good to have you.” At the conveyer belt, she pointed to her two pieces of luggage and Brian lifted them up as easily as if they were tiny evening purses. “I have to deliver medicines to an Iraqi family. Could you drive me there?” She gave them the address. Her bodyguards resumed their positions around her and marched to the door.
“Wait for me,” Joe said. “I’ll get the car.”
A moment later, Brian stowed her suitcases in the trunk of an army Jeep and opened the back door for her. She slid in and he sat beside her.
Steve settled in the front. “Just relax,” he said. “Joe will take a longer route to avoid dangerous areas.”
“Whatever you guys decide. I haven’t been here for a long time and have lost track of recent events.”
Brian exchanged phone numbers with her and insisted she put theirs on speed dials, then he related the latest news, insurgency activities and terrorist attacks with no apparent emotion. The local sectarian violence had become a daily occurrence she’d forgotten about in the last few weeks of her cozy life in the States. Steve updated her on important changes at the local KNR station and reporters’ moves while the Jeep careened along the heavily fortified Baghdad Airport Road.
Instead of crossing the Tigris River that Nabil had shown her, Joe veered into a smaller street, and often turned into back roads she’d never seen. After a last check at the address on the paper she’d given him, he glanced at the GPS map. “We’re almost there.”
The partly dilapidated building etched in her memory suddenly loomed in front of her. She cringed. Bittersweet reminiscences swept through her mind. Nabil’s cheerful voice, his small nephew’s babbling and giggling, and the mother’s generous hospitality.
Anxiety clenched her heart. How would the senior Diabs receive her?
Joe jumped out of the Jeep and held the door open for her. “I need the suitcase with the red ribbon,” she instructed. Brian retrieved it for her.
“Which floor?” He kept the heavy piece in his hand.
“The Diabs live on t
he third floor. You don’t have to—”
“Let’s go.” Brian preceded her to the dark marble stairs that had seen better times, and Steve followed them.
“I’ll wait in the car,” Joe declared.
They had specific instructions to protect her. There was no need for protection while in her friends’ apartment, but she didn’t try to protest. A lump the size of an orange settled in her throat as she carefully climbed the chipped steps and glanced at the corner where Nabil had kissed her the first time.
Why on earth had she flirted with him? Why had she allowed him to believe she returned his feelings? Was it admiration for the dashing officer? Pity for the dire life he led?
Guilt rushed over her like a tidal wave as she reached the landing of the third floor and stared at the wooden door.
Brian pushed a button and stepped behind her. The bell rang. Footsteps shuffled on the floor and a female voice talked in Arabic.
The door opened. Leila smiled to her ears and threw her arms around Roxanne’s neck. “Roxy, my dear friend. Marhaba, welcome. You came again. You are an angel. Come, come inside. You too, sirs. I will have coffee ready and pastry for you. Have a seat.” Leila’s Arabic accent chimed with warmth and joy.
Roxanne introduced the men and they followed her into the living room. “Wow,” Brian exclaimed at the sight of the Aubusson chairs, cherry wood tables, and gilded frames. “I feel like I’m in a palace.”
“It’s all they have left of their wealthy past,” Roxanne explained in a low voice. “It was a luxurious building, but a bomb destroyed one of its corners. There’s no one to repair or maintain it anymore.”
Steve kept glancing at the gorgeous brunette with big chocolate eyes and dark hair cascading down her back. He lowered his gaze then shifted it back to her, studying every one of her moves. “I’ll have an Arabic coffee if you please, Miss Leila. Can I help you carry the tray?”
Roxanne bit her tongue. She’d never seen the devil-may-care Steve so polite and courteous, almost timid.
Leila blushed prettily. “No thank you. I can handle it.”
“Roxanna, habibty. My darling, marhaba, welcome.” A heavy woman walked in, her arms wide-open, and hugged her. “You are back.”
“How are you doing, Aunt Marie? And how is Uncle Elias?” Roxanne returned the greeting. Since her first visit she’d learned that Aunt and Uncle were the respectful yet affectionate terms to call older people in this part of the world.
“I am doing well. But your Uncle Elias is so sick. We cannot operate here. His sister lives in Paris and has arranged for him to be admitted at a French hospital. If we can only fly to France.”
“I brought medicines for Uncle Elias. My sister, brother-in-law, and a friend have consulted with cardiologists and bought the necessary drugs for him.”
“Bless you, ya benty, my daughter. You are a malak, an angel. Nabil was right to choose you for a bride. Too bad he didn’t have time to marry you. We would have had a little baby to cherish, now that our son is gone, may he rest in peace.”
Warmth crept to Roxanne’s throat and face as her fingers itched to touch her stomach. Unbeknown to his grandparents, the little baby to cherish was growing in her belly. Roxanne hoped the older woman wouldn’t notice her unease.
Sure enough, Aunt Marie smiled and patted Roxanne’s cheek. “I know I should not talk about these things with an unmarried young woman. Rabbena kebeer, the Lord is great and has his way. His will be done.”
“Oh dear, I don’t think God... hmm...” Roxanne was used to the way the Iraqis sprinkled every sentence with religious invocations and references to God. But she’d almost blurted that God certainly hadn’t approved of her and Nabil’s reckless act.
Leila returned with a tray loaded with three small cups and a platter of sweet pastries she presented to Roxanne and the two men. “Coffee and loukoums.” The roasted aroma of Arabic coffee wafted around them.
“Lovely,” Steve blurted. “I mean delicious,” he added with a besotted smile.
Brian cleared his throat and scowled. He swallowed his coffee, stuffed one of the sugar-covered soft squares in his mouth, and licked his lips. “These loukoums are heaven. May I have another?”
“Of course, help yourself. You too, Steve.” The photographer took another sweet piece and forgot to eat it.
“Steve, move,” Brian ordered. “We’ll wait in the Jeep with Joe. Roxanne, call us when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thank you, Miss Leila. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call us.” Steve handed her his card as they left.
“Please, come again with Roxanne.” She walked them to the door and shook the hand Steve offered her.
“Can we have the medicines?” Leila asked when she returned.
“Sure.” Roxanne flipped the heavy suitcase flat on the floor and unzipped the cover. “It’s all for you. These are the various pills Uncle Elias has to take. There is a paper that explains how and when to take them. They will help stabilize him so he can travel.” Roxanne sent a mental thank you to Greg who had neatly typed the instructions. “Leila, I have here bottles of shampoo and conditioner for you.”
“Thank you, Roxy. They will come in handy as I finished the last drops of mine and can’t find any in the pharmacies.”
“Vitamins for Aunt Marie. A whole frozen ham to bake. I think it’s still frozen after spending so long in the freezing plane hold. And a bear and train for Michael.”
“Me, me, bear,” the toddler squealed from the door.
“Michael just woke up from his nap. Come say welcome to Aunt Roxy.”
The little boy ran toward her, wrapped his arms around her legs, and grabbed the bear from her hands. “Woxy, Woxy,” he babbled as he squeezed his stuffed animal. “Twain?” He extended his empty hand to receive his second toy.
“Say thank you,” Leila ordered.
“Tank you.” He blew a kiss and ran away.
“We can’t thank you enough, ya benty, my daughter.” Aunt Marie took the bag of medicines and sheet of instructions and rushed toward her husband’s room.
“Roxy, you are really a good friend. How will we ever repay you?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Like Mama, I wish Nabil had time to marry you.”
Roxanne swallowed and cradled her belly. Too late, she noticed Leila staring at her. She jerked her hands away, but her friend’s eyes widened and then squinted.
“Roxy, is there something you want to tell me?”
Roxanne focused a weary look on the young woman. Could she trust her with her secret? Would she understand or hate her?
Chapter Seven
“Please tell me,” Leila begged.
Holding her gaze, Roxanne lifted her chin and covered her belly with a protective hand. “Your brother and I didn’t get married but we...” How would she explain a crazy moment of passion?
Leila smiled, a huge happy smile that brightened her face. “Thank you, Lord.”
Roxanne’s mouth twitched. “I don’t think the Lord approved.”
“We live under horrible conditions. My brother loved you. I have often wondered how he could have resisted so long. Too bad, he didn’t know—”
“He knew. I called him with the news. He ordered me to return to Baghdad and get married right away. I wasn’t ready to give up everything. Also I didn’t think I—”
“Oh my God, Roxy, this is wonderful. It’s exactly the good news we needed to cheer up Baba, to give him back the will to live.”
“Wait. Nabil didn’t want your father to know we made a baby out of wedlock. He was afraid your dad would be disappointed in him.”
Leila shrugged. “Father would have chastised my brother if he were still alive. But he’s dead and things have changed so much.” She grabbed Roxanne’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Try to understand. Baba lost his two sons. Now he calls Michael by his father’s name, Little Tarek. Without this boy, Baba wouldn’t have survived. We keep reminding him we need hi
m to protect Michael. We are two lonely women, my mother and I, in a country where a male protection is paramount. I will tell him about Nabil’s baby. I will break the happy news very slowly.”
Roxanne nodded. “Do whatever is best for your father. Just remember that this is the last time I’ll come to Iraq. I can’t risk my child’s life.”
“Of course. Baghdad is not safe for you. It’s not safe even for us. If Baba improves, we will all go to Paris. Soon, I hope, and we won’t come back.”
“What about your apartment, your things?”
“In the past, I would have felt sad to leave all these valuables. But now...” Leila scanned her elegant surrounding and waved a hand. “Material things. They can be replaced, or not. Who cares, as long as we are safe?”
Roxanne hugged her. “I’ll do everything possible to help you.”
Leila kissed her on both cheeks and gently touched her stomach. “You have already done so much, ya okhty, my sister.”
Roxanne’s phone chimed interrupting their effusions. She recognized Greg’s number on the digital display. “Hi Greg,” she said with a smile. “I was planning to call you as soon as I go to the hotel. I’m at the Diabs’ now.”
“How was the trip?”
“Very comfortable. I was able to rest during my stopover in Dubai. I didn’t have to leave the airport. You can’t believe the luxurious room Lou booked for me at The Dubai International Terminal Hotel.”
“Great. What about in Baghdad?”
“Steve Cooper, a photographer at KNR and two military guards received me and drove me to the Diabs’. Greg, I just told Leila about the baby.” Roxanne winked at Leila who was observing her with a slight frown. The young woman raised an eyebrow at the mention of her name.
“And?”
“She was very happy and will inform her parents. I feel so good about her reaction. Would you like to talk to her?”
“Yes.”
Roxanne turned to the young woman and covered the phone with her hand. “I met Greg at my sister’s wedding, two days after I received your horrible news. He did his best to help me. He’s a doctor, an obstetrician. We’ve been very good friends since then. I talked to him a lot about you and your family.”