A Family Affair (8 page)

Trish laughed. “Within seconds, you will have them all begging to find out where you got such a . . . conversation piece. On you it looks . . . splendiferous.”

“I miss you already, and you haven’t even left yet. Please hurry back, and please do not break my heart and change your mind.”

“You silly man, as if that could ever happen. Never!” Trish said vehemently. “Where is Soraya?”

“Probably changing her clothes for the tenth time. She wants to look perfect for you, so you aren’t ashamed of her.”

“Good grief! Tell me that was a joke, Malik.”

“No joke. Listen to me, Trish. As soon as she gets all her junk in your place, I want you to burn it and buy her a pair of blue jeans, sneakers, and get her a Berkeley Golden Bears T-shirt. Will you do this for me? If you can’t burn her things, when she isn’t looking, give them away. She’s going to make a fool of herself with her highfalutin sense of fashion, and I don’t want to see her hurt. I want her American experience to be genuine.”

Trish’s eyes popped wide. “Are you serious?”

“Never more serious, dear one.”

Trish swallowed hard. “Well, perhaps there is a better way, less drastic, more . . . gentle.”

“Well, if there is, I’m sure you’ll find it. Ah, here comes the fashion plate now. One can only guess how much that outfit cost.”

Soraya rushed up to them on her high heels. She took one look at Trish and almost cried. “I am overdressed!”

“What was your first clue, sister? You are going on a plane ride, a long plane ride. The idea is to be comfortable. You are not going to a movie premiere, where you have to outdo everyone else,” Malik snapped.

Soraya eyed Trish’s casual clothing and bleated, “I will change. Oh, I can’t change. I have no clothing like Trish’s. What shall I do?”

“What you always do, cry, whine, and wring your hands,” Malik said. “There is no time. Come. We must leave, or we will be late. The plane will be burning fuel, and I do not like to see waste.” He turned to Trish. “Our city is sixty percent under construction, and traffic is slow, as you have seen since your arrival. My other plane is also sitting on the tarmac, burning fuel.”

Wringing her hands and blinking away tears, Soraya followed her brother and Trish out to the waiting limousine, where Rashid stood at the open door. He was to accompany Malik as his next in command to Abu Dhabi.

“What is your problem, little sister?” Rashid asked.

“My brother tells me I am an embarrassment. I am dressed all wrong for a long plane ride. No one told me. Someone should have told me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Rashid looked at Malik’s stern face and wisely kept silent, even though he thought Soraya looked quite beautiful. He shrugged as he held the door of the limousine for the two women to get in. He tried not to look at Soraya’s gorgeous legs. What was wrong with him? Why, all of a sudden, was he looking at Malik’s baby sister in such a way? Later, he would try to sort out his thoughts. Much, much later.

They were driving through the city known as the City of Gold, making small talk about nothing as they made their way to Al Maktoum International Airport. Trish’s thoughts were everywhere but on the trip. She was trying to count the moments she still had with Malik. All she could do was stare across at him and smile. He looked, she thought, as sad as she felt.

Their driver was an expert at weaving in and out of the congestion, and Rashid remarked that they were making good time.

“Good time” meant she was that much closer to leaving Malik. Trish’s stomach turned into a hard knot. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Her eyes were burning unbearably. Who knew that love could be so painful?

Time moved at the speed of light then. In a heartbeat, the limousine was crossing the tarmac, where two private planes waited, both burning fuel. The limousine stopped; Malik and Rashid were out in a nanosecond, followed by Trish and Soraya. They were herded toward the portable steps leading up to the plane.

Malik stepped back, bowed slightly, reached for Trish’s hands, then kissed them both. They were in public, and in public, there were no displays of passion.

Tears trickled down Trish’s cheeks. She whispered, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Malik nodded. “I’ll be waiting here, at this exact spot, for you.” He kissed his sister on the cheek. He looked her in the eyes and said, “Do not bring dishonor to our family. Do you understand, little sister?”

Soraya nodded before she ran up the steps behind Trish. At the doorway, both women waved. One sad, one happy.

Below the stairs, two men stood waving, both sad.

Settled inside the plane, Trish looked at Soraya and said, “And now your adventure begins.”

“I can hardly wait. I will not embarrass you again, Trish. I promise.”

Trish nodded as she leaned back in the comfortable seat and closed her eyes. She promised herself to think of nothing else but Malik on the flight home. Tr y as she might, the tears came and rolled down her cheeks.

Soraya reached for Trish’s hand. “The time will go quickly, and before you know it, you will be back here, looking forward to your wedding. My brother loves you more than life itself. He told me this himself. Why, I do not know, because he never tells me things such as that. Maybe he thinks I am finally grown up, and I understand now. Tell me, what did you think of him in his robe?”

Trish sniffled. “I thought he looked quite handsome. Dashing, actually. He could be a movie star. Like the actor in
Lawrence of Arabia
. I loved that movie. I must learn Arabic. Is it hard?”

“About as hard as it was for me to learn English. Do not worry. I will help you. Soon we will be sisters. I have longed forever to have a sister or other siblings.”

“I’m honored to have you as a sister, Soraya.”

And then they were airborne. Soraya clapped her hands in glee. “I’m finally going to America. Finally!”

A
S
T
RISH UNBUCKLED HER SEAT BELT, SHE LOOKED OVER AT
Soraya. “We’re home! Malik said that he arranged for a car to take us to my place and that customs was taken care of. Are you ready for your big adventure in America?”

“I am so ready, Trish. I can’t wait to step off this plane and experience everything my brother did when he first got here.”

“It’s going to be a bit different. Malik was in California and was going to school. It’s a whole different atmosphere. This is Las Vegas, and there is no other place in the world like Vegas. Did you sleep well?”

“Actually, I did. What time is it? I forgot to set my watch.”

“Almost midnight. The witching hour. This is the time of night when Vegas really comes alive. Not that we’re going to be seeing it tonight. We’re going home to bed. Tomorrow is a new day. I hope you aren’t disappointed.”

“It’s the holiday season. How could I be disappointed? I’ve never experienced your holiday. I’m looking forward to it. You must call Malik now to tell him we arrived safely. He will be pacing in his cave like an expecting father. Put him out of his misery so we can get on with it.”

Trish already had the phone in her hand and was pressing in the digits. She wasn’t the least surprised when Malik picked up on the first ring. “Is it a boy or a girl?” she teased, then explained what Soraya had said.

“I miss you. I love you so much, my teeth hurt,” Malik said.

Trish laughed. “That’s my line. We’re on the ground now. They’re loading your sister’s things into the car. I guess they’ll deliver the trunks later, as they won’t fit in the car. I’ve never seen your sister so happy. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.” They made small talk and finally hung up when the driver opened the door for her and Soraya. Soraya got in first, then Trish.

Homeward bound.

“It’s cold,” Soraya said. “I know this is your winter. I’ve never seen snow except in the movies. I will have to buy appropriate clothes.”

“Why waste the money, Soraya? We’re pretty much the same size. You can wear mine. Even though I slept on the plane, I’m tired.”

“Yes, but I am too excited to sleep. I wish it were daytime so I could see
everything.
”

Trish yawned. “Tomorrow is another day. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

Soraya chattered and giggled the whole way to the town house. She was still chattering when they climbed the steps to the front door. Trish stepped back when she saw and smelled the fragrant evergreen wreath hanging on her front door. Connie. That was so like her. She’d come over, hung the wreath, turned up the heat, and probably changed the sheets on the beds and stocked the refrigerator. A true friend, if ever there was one.

Trish opened the door. “Welcome to my home, Soraya.” She reached up and turned on the foyer light. Even from where she was standing, she could see the twinkling Christmas tree in the living room. Not only was there a tree, but there were beautifully wrapped packages underneath it, too. The girls. Tears formed in Trish’s eyes. Such good friends.

“Oh, it smells . . . delicious, just like the wreath on the door. It’s a real tree!” Soraya squealed. “Did your maid do all this, Trish?”

“Stop right there! There is
no
maid. My friends did all this to welcome me home. From here on in, you fend for yourself, and that means you carry your own bags to your room and you unpack yourself. You run your own bath or take a shower. You fix your own food, and you clean up after yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I get it. Just like Malik did. He knows how to do laundry. He knows how to cook and drive a car. I’m going to do everything just the way he did. Do you have any root beer?”

“I doubt it, but check in the refrigerator. I’m going to have a glass of wine and look at my Christmas tree for a bit. I wish Malik were here to see it. Make yourself at home. Your room is at the top of the stairs, on the right.”

“I’ll take pictures and send them to Malik right now. He’s not sleeping. This is too good not to share with him. Besides, it will do him good to be jealous of me for a change.” Soraya laughed as she snapped picture after picture.

At least she’s actually doing something for herself,
Trish thought as she poured herself a glass of wine and carried it into the living room. She kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the couch. Her eyes misted over as she stared at the fragrant balsam tree as memories of her childhood flooded through her. First thing in the morning, she had to call her sister.

The holiday season. The most glorious time of the year, especially in Vegas.

Half a world away, Malik stared at the pictures he was seeing. He smiled as he remembered many Christmases with his friends when he lived in the States. He adored the picture of Trish smiling as she held her glass of wine aloft for Soraya’s benefit, the colored lights on the Christmas tree beside her. He didn’t know for sure, but he rather thought the tree was a real one, the kind that smelled up the whole place. He wished he were there.

The first few days after returning to Vegas were busy ones for Trish, but she managed to make time for shopping with Soraya for more suitable clothes, especially jeans, sneakers, sweatshirts, and outerwear. While Trish was busy getting her affairs in order, her friends took Soraya to lunch or sightseeing. They enthralled her with Vegas lore, including lurid tales of Bugsy Siegel and the founding of Las Vegas, and the stories of their lives, and Soraya ate it up whole. Her eyes sparkled and her step was jaunty as she geared up for the Christmas party at the casino and her first night in the audience. It would be Trish’s last night of work. The only reason she’d agreed to dance at all was that Soraya wanted to see her in the chorus line, to see the woman her brother fell in love with from the audience.

Trish loved the peace and quiet she was experiencing at the moment. Connie had stopped by earlier to, as she put it, “take the girl off your hands for a few hours.” They were going to do lunch and a little Christmas shopping.

Trish reached for her cell phone to call Emma, then glanced at her watch, mindful that she was three hours behind. Something about her sister’s voice on the phone had bothered her when she had called on her return to the States. Time to find out how big sis really was. She pressed the number one on her speed dial. Her sister picked up after two rings.

“Emmie, it’s me. How’s it going? Can you talk?”

“Yes, the office is empty. I was just doing some cold calling. I don’t know why I bother. No one wants to buy a house or even rent one during the Christmas season. It’s a way to kill time, I guess. I did get one lady who said to call her after the New Year. With the economy the way it is, I’m not hopeful. What’s shaking in Vegas?”

“Same old, same old. Is anything wrong, Em? You didn’t sound like yourself when we spoke the other day.”

“Everything is as good as it’s going to get. Except for Melissa. She doesn’t want to live with me anymore. Says I’m way too strict. I can’t give her a fifty-dollar-a-week allowance, so she wants to live with her father and his new trophy wife. Because she’s already fourteen, a judge will listen to her and go with her choice. Jeff had his attorney send me a letter saying we could do this the easy way or the hard way, meaning he’ll take me to court to get full custody. I’m just going to let her go with him. I don’t have the stomach for another court fight. That means child support stops, and he’ll undoubtedly find a way to stop the spousal support, too. Sooner rather than later.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that the other day, Em?”

“And ruin your homecoming? Why would I do that? This is my problem, not yours. According to Missy, her father left the firm he was working for and is now working for some big international one, and all he does is travel to the Middle East. She thinks Saudi Arabia and Abu Dhabi sound romantic. That’s another reason I didn’t want to tell her about you and Malik. She brags to all her friends about how important her father is.

“Selling real estate in a down market is not romantic. That leaves the trophy wife, who is just eight years older than Missy, on her own. He wants Missy to keep her eye on his new wife. Missy adores her. They shop till they drop, do girl things, putz and putter around. According to Missy, I am a Neanderthal, square, don’t know where it’s at, and a nag at the same time.”

“Oh, God, Em, I am so sorry. What about Christmas?”

“Jeff is taking his wife and Missy to Hawaii. I didn’t fight that, either. No point. I’ve become active in several support groups, and we have plans for Christmas, just like your friends there. That’s so none of us are alone. We do our little lunches, tree trimmings, secret Santa gifts. You know how it goes. Listen, enough about me. Tell me stuff, little sister.”

So she did. Trish thought her sister sounded genuinely happy for her. I wish you would come back with me for my wedding, Em. Will you at least think about it?”

“I can’t, Trish, as much as I would like to. I have to be here for Missy in case she wants to come back. Once a mother, always a mother. If Jeff found out, he’d make my life miserable. I hope you understand why I didn’t tell either one of them about your going to Dubai and now about getting married to a sheik. Somehow or other, Jeff would make that work for him and destroy you in the bargain. I don’t know who he is anymore. He’s driven by power and money.

“Here’s another thing. Some of the women in my various support groups all got screwed the way I did with the same lawyer Jeff used. Those same guys all belong to this new international group that Jeff is heading up. I overheard Missy on the phone with one of her friends talking about her father. Okay, okay, I was eavesdropping. Sometimes you have to do that with teenagers. Anyway, she was bragging about how her father was going to be a billionaire very soon. Not a millionaire but a billionaire, and he was going to buy her a Porsche as soon as she got her driver’s license. Missy never even mastered riding a bicycle. Look, let’s talk about something else.”

“Just promise me you won’t be alone for Christmas, Em.”

“I promise, Trish. By the way, your gifts arrived. I put them in the closet. I haven’t put up a tree. Maybe a little artificial one since Missy won’t be here.”

“How are you fixed for money?”

“I’m making it. Hey, I’m the big sister here. I have a little cushion. I never spent any of the money from the sale of Mom and Dad’s house, and I still have my share of the insurance. I know you never spent yours, either. I just couldn’t. Knowing it’s there if I need it is good. I’m sure the economy will pick up next year, and if it doesn’t, I registered with the modeling agency I used to work for. My feet look the same, and so does my hair, so maybe something will come through with that. I’m sorry I ever let Jeff talk me into giving all that up when we got married.”

“You gave it up for me. Don’t put all the blame on Jeff, Em. You wanted to be there for me when I needed a mother the most. I will be forever grateful to you for stepping in when . . . after . . . you know. I also know Jeff didn’t want me living with you, but you held tight. I love you for that, Em. After I’m married, I’ll be in a position to help you out.” She told her about the financial arrangements and giggled at her sister’s reaction.

“Trish, that is so awesome. My God, what will you do with all that money?”

“I can’t wrap my mind around it all yet. I’ll think of something. Right now, though, I’m just about broke. I’m going to rent my town house to one of the girls in the line. I don’t want to give it up. I worked too hard to get it, did without too much to just give it up. You taught me that, Em. Always keep something in reserve. Like you with your inheritance and me with mine. You just never know what tomorrow will bring.”

On the other end of the phone, Emma sighed. “In a million years I never thought Jeff would push me to the curb. I’m still trying to figure out how I could have been so stupid. There had to have been clues, and I missed every single one of them. My friends all say the same thing. None of us saw it coming. Out with the old, in with the new. The guys are all sporting young, as in
very
young, trophy wives who spend their days shopping and lunching at the country club.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Em. You were being a wife, taking care of me, and raising a daughter. You did it all right. Jeff is the one who screwed it up. ‘What goes around comes around.’ You always used to say that to me. Then you’d finish it up with, ‘Karma is a bitch.’ ”

Emma laughed. “I have to go, Trish, and at least pretend I’m working. There are at least two dozen divorcees standing in line for this crappy job if I bomb at it. Why does every woman who gets divorced think the only path to take is in real estate?”

It was Trish’s turn to laugh. “I have no clue, Em. Love you. I’ll call again in a day or so.”

Trish sat for a long time after she disconnected the call. She’d never really liked Emma’s husband, because he had always made her feel like a charity case and resented having had to feed her, clothe her, and put a roof over her head.
Bastard.
The thing that bothered her the most was Missy turning on her mother. In a way, she understood that teenagers thought only of themselves and keeping up with their peer group. She could see how the promise of a Porsche would tempt any young person. A trip to Hawaii for Christmas. Well, that was just the cherry on top. A young stepmother who spent all her time shopping and lunching, right down a teenager’s alley. Poor Em.

Right then, at that precise moment in time, Trish Holiday came to the understanding that money was at the root of all evil.

Trish went back to her computer search. She was trying to make arrangements for her wedding gift to Malik. Her intention was to find his old rattletrap of a car, buy it from whoever had it, and ship it to Dubai. Soraya had provided her a list with the names of Malik’s old roommates and friends who had sent condolences when their father died. Malik had asked her personally, as the only female in the family, to take care of it, and she had. There were nine names on the list.