It felt weird to see her family after such a long time. For the briefest of moments, Amani was almost nervous to be back in the presence of her father, mother, Habib, and Yazan. In the prime of his pubescent years, Yazan had grown nearly an entire foot and stood just an inch or two above Amani. But the nervousness fell away the moment her brother's spoke to her and fell back into their verbal wrestling dynamic.
"You got fat," Yazan looked Amani up and down.
"I lost ten pounds," she snorted.
"You should lose more."
"You're the one eating more to gain weight!" Habib exclaimed, standing in front of Amani defensively and pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. "The gym is making you fatter."
Yazan frowned at the little boy. "It's called bulking."
"A bulk in your head!" Habib stuck his tongue out. But he screamed and raced away from his older brother just as Yazan reached forward to knock his head, disappearing into the darkened kitchen in search of a sanctuary. Yazan followed him.
"Amani!" Her mother called and Amani was surprised to find her mother standing in front of her, her eyes swelling with tears. After she'd greeted Uncle and Auntie, all her attention turned onto her daughter. "Oh, my daughter. I missed you so much," she wrapped Amani into her arms. "The house has no taste without you."
Holding her mother equally as tightly, Amani battled the tears of how much she'd longed for her mother's presence. "I'm sure you were busy keeping Yazan and Habib from killing one another."
She chuckled. "Wallah, it was hard. I did not know how much they fought until you were no longer there to separate them."
Amani nodded. "It's every moment of the day."
"They cannot speak without fighting."
She laughed, accepting the kiss her mother placed on her cheek and her second hug. Over her shoulder, Amani finally saw her father step through the door after he'd greeted all the friends that had been waiting for him by the front door. Ever since that morning, they had 'set up camp' on the stairs with tea, loud conversations, and even louder laughter while waiting for their friend to return from his travels. Once she really thought about it, Amani realized they hadn't seen each other in longer than she'd been alive.
Her father seemed reluctant to approach her, both of them fully aware of the awkwardness they would have to break through in their first conversation. But her mother called him over.
"How have you been, my daughter?" He asked.
"Good, Baba," she smiled. Amani was no longer upset with him for making the rash decision to send her back home because that was what had been written for her. Had he not done it, she would not have met Um Muhsin, Farouq, Fayza, and Muhsin.
It was impossible to think of another way the events may have unfolded. A way that would not have brought her to stand beside him in the graveyard and connect their souls for the rest of their lives.
There was no longer an Amani without a Muhsin.
"I, um...," he cleared his throat. "I do not regret sending you here. You look happy, but I regret the way I did it. I should have given you more time. More of a choice. I hope you can forgive me."
Amani grinned. "I think being sent here was the greatest blessing, Baba, and it was all because of you. Everything worked out in the best way it could have. I'm not upset with you, I'm thankful to you and I'll continue to be thankful to you for the rest of my life."
She could have sworn she'd seen tears in her father's eyes before he blinked and turned away. "Well, yes. For that, I suppose we should say alhamdullilah."
"Alhamdullilah. I missed you, Baba."
"I missed your coffee."
"I'll make you some tomorrow morning," she winked.
"Why are we standing? You must be tired, yalla, let us move to the dining table. Amani and I spent all morning cooking the best food for your mouths. It must be so long since you ate a meal so authentic. Come, come!" Auntie pushed everyone toward the set table.
Lively conversation filled the home as they all spoke over one another, four separate discussions weaving through one another. Only when her mother turned to her did everybody else's voices cease. "Let me see the ring," she ushered Amani like she'd forgotten.
Amani extended her hand to her mother.
Yazan scowled at the sight of it. "So what? You're going to get married now or something?" He asked, his tone unimpressed.
Habib cheered. "Amani's going to have a baby!"
"No, not yet, habibi," Auntie laughed.
"Is he rich?" Yazan asked, pondering on why his sister had suddenly decided to wed. "Like a sugar daddy type of deal."
Amani rolled her eyes. "I'm not marrying him for money, Yazan."
"Then why are you marrying him?"
"Muhsin is a good man," Uncle finally spoke up. "He is firm in his religion, respectful, kind, and incredibly responsible. If I had my own daughter, I would have married her to him."
Yazan sucked his teeth. "He sounds boring."
Her father tore a piece of bread and spoke. "I am looking forward to meeting him. From what I have been told by your aunt and uncle, you have chosen a good husband. I am proud of you, Amani."
"Is he coming today?" Habib bounced on his chair.
"We just got here, my love. I do not think he would want to see us as we look now," her mother joked.
"Tomorrow then?" He twirled to his sister.
Amani pressed her lips together in reluctance. "I don't think so. To be honest, he would have come today but... I didn't tell him that you guys were coming. He doesn't know."
"Drama," Yazan whistled.
Her mother's eyebrows knit in question. "Why have you not told him?"
Amani's gaze shifted toward her aunt and uncle who watched her patiently and reassuringly. "Muhsin's sister is in the hospital. They don't know if she's going to make it yet so he's had a lot on his mind. I thought it wasn't the right time to bring him here to meet you. Not when he's been so worried about his sister."
"What happened to her?" Yazan asked.
"I'm not sure, but I think it had something to do with the occupational soldiers. I think the reason she's in the hospital now is because of something they did to her," Amani admitted.
Her mother's eyes widened. "They hurt the girl? How old is she?"
Amani remembered Fayza announcing her age faintly. "Nineteen, I think. Maybe twenty."
Yazan snorted. "If she's so young, why would she put herself in danger like that? She was probably provoking them."
"She's always provoking them."
"There you go," he shrugged.
"That's who she is. She's braver than anybody I have ever seen before, Mama. She carries herself like she's not afraid of death. Sometimes, I wonder if she secretly has a death wish. The entire town knows her name from how she fights against those soldiers, throwing rocks at them while they point their rifles at her, instrumenting attacks against them like some kind of master mind."
Amani smiled in pride. "Even the occupation knows her name, they're always after her because even they know she's a threat. Fayza Awad, a nineteen-year-old, scares an entire military for- no, their entire government regime."
Habib's mouth was wide open. "She's like a superhero."
"Yes," Amani chuckled, wrapping her arm around the little boy. "She's like our very own superhero."
"Does she have powers?"
"She's not a real superhero, Habib," Yazan announced.
"Amani said she is," the little boy turned to his brother. "She's a real-life superhero and all superhero's have powers. Right, Amani? What's her power?"
Amani thought to herself, wanting to offer her brother an answer that would not disappoint him. "She's not afraid of anything."
"That's not a real superpower," Yazan countered.
"You stand in front of seven armed soldiers all pointing their loaded rifles at you and throw a rock at them then come tell me if it's a superpower or not," she bit back.
"That didn't happen."
Auntie nodded. "Actually, it did. Apparently, they detained her older brother and Fayza freed him near the edge of the town. I'm not sure of the details but it was truly surprising to all of us."
Amani stuck her tongue out at her brother.
Habib turned to do the same.
Yazan rolled his eyes.
"Fayza Awad?" Amani's father finally spoke. "That name sounds familiar. Her father is not Fayez Awad, is he?"
Uncle nodded. "He was."
"Was? Has he passed away?"
"Many years ago, brother. He was injured by occupational soldiers and did not make it, sadly. Muhsin is his eldest son, but he only has those two children."
"I thought you said he had brothers my age?" Habib asked.
"He does, but they are like his cousin-brothers."
"Cousin-brothers?" Yazan asked.
Her father spoke, his exasperated voice enough to silence Amani before she could offer a clapback. "Subhanallah," he breathed and sat back in his chair. "Fayez Awad was in my Koran class when we were young all the way until I traveled for college. His good character always illuminated his face, but he never tolerated any disrespect. He was killed, you say?" He asked.
Auntie nodded. "It was a sad time."
"You should visit his family, Mariam," he turned to Amani's mother. "See if they need anything. Fayez helped me collect the money for that first plane ticket. We should help his family now. If I had known at the time, I would have done more."
"Don't worry, brother," Auntie smiled. "Um Muhsin is a powerful woman, mashallah. She took good care of her children after her husband passed and even her sister's children after their parents passed. She is truly a wonderful woman. I am excited for you all to meet. Inshallah after Fayza wakes, we can have a dinner."
They echoed her words. "Inshallah."
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Let's be honest, this chapter's a bit boring so Imma upload another one right now! Hold on!