Coming Home (English Version)

7. Sassy Lassy

I chew on my brownie and swallow before answering. "Then don't!" I shrug as the light turns to green. "You have my full support, if you need to take a day off because one of the kids is sick or maybe your mother-in-law cannot watch them, then just tell me. We'll always find a way and I'm not letting you go, okay? You're stuck with me now."

"I'd love to keep working with you. It's just-- I don't know. Nevermind."

I quickly glance at her. "What? Tell me!"

She laughs and then takes a deep breath. "Today, for example, no one before ever asked my opinion for clothes. No one ever asked about my family, what does my husband do for a living, how are my children doing at school, who takes care of them while I'm working."

Her employers don't see her, simple as that. And it kills me because those people are my family. Yes, they are good people; yes, I will be eternally grateful for what they did for me, but it's so easy to get wrapped up in this bubble of extreme wealth where they see nothing but luxury all around, where everywhere they go others bow their heads and hold doors open for them. I stepped out of the bubble for a while and it's one of the best things I ever did, even though my life was still very privileged. The most valuable lesson I learned is that there is no greater act of kindness than to make people feel seen and heard.

I make a stop at another red light. "Krisha," I turn my body in her direction, "I love having you in my life, what happens to you matters to me."

"I don't want to stop working for you, ever."

We share a quick hug and I blink to keep my eyes from getting watery.

"And you know what?" Krisha continues. "My husband is a good man but I like having my own money."

Traffic begins moving.

"Yes, Krisha! Don't give up your financial freedom." I advise.

We continue talking until we make it to her apartment building in a busy street in the heart of Bur Dubai. Krisha steps out of the car and says goodbye but I stop her before she closes the door.

"Krisha!"

"Yes?" She peeks inside the car.

I show her my teeth. "Do I have any chocolate on my teeth?"

"No, you don't." She tells me while laughing.

I arrive at the restaurant 15 minutes late and I hate it, I hate being late. I follow the host to our table and this place is a feast to the eyes, I have to keep myself from looking around at the bright, colorful cushions and all the lamps hanging from the ceiling, and pay attention to where I'm going. The host and I take on a set of stairs and arrive at the terrace with a beautiful view, more colorful seating and gray granite tables.

I spot Farouk as he stands up from his seat. He's wearing the usual; white kandura and head scarf.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." I apologize as we exchange a kiss on the cheek.

"You're not that late, don't worry."

I take a seat across from him and the host hands me the beverage menu.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly." He announces before leaving.

Farouk and I say our thank yous.

"What are you drinking?" I ask looking at his glass.

"Blackberry and hibiscus tea."

"You don't drink any alcohol?"

He shakes his head. "Never."

"Mind if I do?"

I need something to loosen up because I'm feeling extremely shy. Texting is one thing, but having him face to face is a whole different story. And his beard is shorter, only a soft shade of it and I cannot tell which version of him I like the most.