Emeralds

Forty-four.

I struggle with the very-high-and-wide-I-don't-know-what-we-were-thinking-when-we-built-the-house windows for a bit longer as Leen dusts the bookshelves and furniture.
"You know what?" she says and I have to bring my head inside to hear her well.
"What?" I ask, already run out of breath.
"When we first got married I thought I would get along well with your mother." She shrugs, "I liked her and I thought she felt the same. I was really shocked when she kept accusing me of taking you away from her, I wanted to believe and think she was joking, but she wasn't and I couldn't fool myself." I open my mouth to speak but she goes on, "But despite everything, I do like and respect her, I'm thankful for the way she raised you, and I wish I can be half the good mother she is. I would love to learn how to raise a son like she did."
I get off the ladder and throw the cloth I've been holding and approach her. "Don't I have the best wife ever?" I say hugging her, "Did you, my wife, fall from heaven?" I laugh.
"Don't think too highly of me," she says breaking away and raising an eyebrow, "Sometimes I'm really mad and disappointed in her though."
"That's the thing about mother-and-daughter-in-law," I shrug playfully, "You'll never get along well enough."
"Oh thank you Adam!" she says angrily, "I sure needed that."
I laugh, "Lee."
"Yes."
"We'll raise the best of children inshallah," I smile. Her eyes shine against the August sunlight.
***
Waiting kills me slowly. Memories flood in just when they are unwelcome the most. It's like her voice will never leave my head and I will never be able to think straight. I look at Ahmed across from me, on the opposite row of chairs. He notices me, smiles knowingly and nods slightly. I nod back.

Mariam comes back with three cups of instant coffee. She hands Ahmed a cup and walks toward me with the other two, she sits down next to me and hands me the steaming coffee. I nod as a 'thank you'.

I sip the dark bitter liquid, trying to focus on the repulsive bitterness instead of my own thoughts. I'm not a big fan of instant coffee, I think coffee is too precious to be drunk this way, in this form. But I can't be ungrateful to the distraction anyway.

Until I realise it's a distraction and return to thinking once again. I lean my head to the wall behind me, close my eyes and try to kick thoughts out. I keep reciting Quran for what seems like a really long time. But somehow worries and bad thoughts find their way back.

The question I loathe the most is: what if. . .?

What if she never sees again?

What if something goes wrong during the surgery and she gets hurt even worse?

What if I was there on the night of the accident?

'What if' is an innocent question. It can come before a good or a bad suggestion, but somehow our brains only use it the bad way, on bad times, with tiring thoughts.
***
It's another September. Today is the twentieth. My birthday. I don't think there are people who really forget their birthdays. It's not like someone would check the date and find it's the month they've been born and nothing really clicks. It just doesn't make sense.

Two years ago, schools started on the twenty-first of September. The day after my birthday I took Malek to school, I ran into a girl with the most beautiful eyes I've ever witnessed. This girl became my wife.

I check the time on my phone and fall back asleep again. It's 6:30. Why wake up early when I have no work today. Plus, people are supposed to get some kind of special treatment on their birthdays anyway, am I wrong?

"Happy birthday to you," I wake up a few minutes later to Leen singing, "happy birthday to you."
I open my eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight coming from the open balcony. I smile when I see her face so close to mine, she beams happily.
"Morning, birthday boy," she raises a cupcake with a single candle that I haven't noticed she's been holding.
"Morning," I sit up. "Romantic much, yubo?"
She laughs. "Because of your birthday and all," she shrugs. I kiss her forehead. "Make a wish," she says, moving her hand with the cupcake closer to me. I make a wish and blow off the candle. She puts the cake down on the bedside table and claps her hands as if I'm one of her students. "Now get up."