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Amal’s expression was a mixture of near-disbelief and amusement. “That’s strange; Rami never said anything to me about wanting a child. His father didn’t think he would ever settle down.”

Mia shrugged, feeling slightly guilty for betraying what Rami might have preferred to keep to himself. “He…” She took a breath, setting the folded pillowcase down and picking up a sheet. “He said that he wanted to have a child so he would be able to raise it differently.” Mia blushed a deeper red. “I know—I know you must have cared about Rami very much—but I think he often felt…”

“Like we bought him things instead of giving him emotional nourishment?” Amal finished for her. “Yes,” she sighed, her face looking troubled. “I’m afraid that as much as I wanted a child, I found myself sort of…I guess you could say trapped, by expectations. It was expected that my son would be raised by nannies, and sent away to private school.” Amal looked at Aziz and smiled warmly at the sleeping infant. “I let myself get caught up in raising my children the so-called ‘right’ way.” Amal met Mia’s gaze, and Mia saw that the older woman had tears in her eyes. “I’m so pleased that you and Aziz are living with us. It’s given me a chance to try again, to experience all of the nurturing impulses I had to put aside as a wealthy mother.”

“Oh Amal,” Mia said, letting the sheet in her hands fall to the folding table as she saw the other woman begin to cry in earnest. Acting on impulse, Mia closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Amal’s shoulders. “It’s okay—it really is, I know that Rami is so grateful for all the opportunities you’ve given him…”

Amal shuddered and sobbed, and Mia felt guilty for raising a topic of conversation that could make Rami’s mother so upset. As she was attempting to soothe the older woman, telling her that it was all right, that she knew that Amal loved Rami, Mia heard the door to the laundry room open.

She turned her head to see Rami standing in the doorway, his face bewildered. “What’s wrong, Ma?” He came into the room, quickly coming to Mia’s side. Amal pulled back from Mia’s shoulder, wiping at her face even as the tears continued to flow.

“I’m so sorry for the w-way I treated you both,” she said, her breath catching as she spoke. “I’m s-sorry that I never gave you the affection you needed, Rami. And I’m sorry I spoke out against your engagement.”

Rami looked at Mia for just an instant, shock and confusion in his eyes, before turning his attention back onto Amal. “It’s okay, Ma. I understand,” Rami said, patting his mother on the shoulder. He glanced at Mia again, and she shook her head as unobtrusively as possible to indicate that she wasn’t sure what to do, either.

“It’s not okay,” Amal said, her voice firmer than it had been a moment before. “I tried to get in the way of your happiness after never giving you the love you craved. I don’t know how you will ever be able to forgive me.”

“Ma,” Rami said, leaning in close to and kissing her lightly on the forehead. “You’ve welcomed us into your home. You didn’t have to do that. Giving us this opportunity, letting us get our family on its feet—that’s more than enough. Right, Mia?”

Mia nodded. “It really is,” she agreed. “Neither of us can thank you enough for helping us give our baby a comfortable home.” She hugged Amal, and Rami wrapped his arms around both of them. Mia couldn’t quite get over the sense of shock she felt at Amal’s outburst, but even thought it had been painful, she was glad they’d had the conversation.

FOURTEEN

Mia relaxed against the back of the driver’s seat in her old, beat-up car as she drove away from the family’s sprawling home, towards the much more modest home where her mother waited for her arrival. She had left Aziz in the capable hands of Amal and Karima, where she knew he would be given as much affection as he could possibly stand. I wonder if they’ll manage to actually put him down once while I’m gone, she thought with amusement.

The first time she’d left Aziz at home to go visit her mother, Mia had been almost unable to suppress the feeling of guilt that rose up in her; shouldn’t she want to spend every waking moment with her baby? The guilt had subsided somewhat over time. She still brought Aziz with her to visit with Amie once or twice a week, but other days—when Mia and her mother would be going to doctors’ offices and running errands around town—it made more sense to leave the infant at home. At a little over a month old, he was doing well, and was very healthy, but Mia didn’t want to expose him to any sicknesses until he’d gotten a chance to receive his vaccinations. With Rami’s family so willing to care for the baby boy while Mia was away, it was difficult thinking of reasons to refuse their kindness.

“You’re more at ease when you help her, you know,” Amal had pointed out when Mia had commented that she felt like she was being torn in two different directions. “And when you’re more at ease, you take care of Aziz better; he’s not stressed if you aren’t.” Mia had had to admit that the older woman had a point.

Mia frowned to herself as she pulled onto the highway. Her mother’s health had shown improvement at first, but despite receiving the best treatment available, she seemed to be getting worse again. It was frustrating to see all the progress her mother had made starting to come undone; watching the doctors scratch their heads over which new treatment to try. Since the beginning of her illness, Mia had sat with her mother in one office after another, listening to the options being presented. The rheumatologist had said, in a recent appointment, “I’m afraid the biggest issue we’re facing is that your immune system seems to get ahead of us too quickly, Amie. You keep developing tolerances, which means that the effects of the drugs are diminished.”

Mia knew that there were only so many medications that existed for treating her mother’s disease. She knew too that the doctors were beginning to become concerned about the impact on Amie Campbell’s kidneys—both from the disease and, ironically, from the medications used to treat it. “If we can’t find a more long-term solution for you soon,” her mother’s primary care physician had said regretfully, “you’re going to need a transplant.”

The idea of her mother going through dialysis and waiting for months to find an eligible donor, when weeks previously the cost of the treatment would have been insignificant to the family, made Mia feel like finding Rami’s father’s grave and screaming and stamping her feet—like that would do any good. It wasn’t his fault and she knew it, but she couldn’t help feeling that if he hadn’t taken such risks on his businesses – if he’d asked for help instead of taking out so many loans to prop up his failing empire – then she and Rami would still have the means to give her mother the very best care, without having to worry if they still had enough to take care of themselves and their baby.

He did those things to avoid losing face. He thought that he had time to turn things around. Mia reasoned. She knew Rami was struggling to come to terms with the legacy of debt and mismanagement his father had left behind; managing the estate took up as much time for him as a regular job. There were properties to be sold, businesses to liquidate, corporate accounts to close and debt collectors to negotiate with. All in all, Mia did not envy the life he had taken on as the eldest son in the family. She could only hope that there would eventually come a day when all of Rami’s father’s affairs would be dealt with; when they would be able to focus completely on their own family.

Mia turned onto the street she had grown up on, and forced her lips into a smile. She knew she should be happy that she was going to be visiting with her mother; she knew she needed to focus on the fact that she was incredibly fortunate to have such supportive in-laws—a

lthough technically they weren’t her in-laws, since she and Rami were not yet married—to help her take care of her baby and thus give her the opportunity to take care of her mother. There were parents out there in much worse situations than hers. “I should be grateful for what I have,” Mia told herself as her parents’ home came into view, giving her a burst of happiness. “I should be grateful rather than whining about what I


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