Page 20 of If I Loved You Less
Fawad laughs. “Well done.”
“Thank you, thank you.” I bow my head. “I’ll be here all night.”
I lean back against the pillows, getting comfortable, and Fawad does, too.
“What have you been up to?” Fawad asks. “Have you gotten used to Faiza Baji being gone?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, but it has gotten better,” I reply. “I’ve been trying more baking recipes, but I think the people in my office are getting sick of all the leftovers.”
“Hello, I’m down the road for a reason!” he says. “Just tell me next time, and I’ll eat them all.”
“That will surely be detrimental to your health.”
“Don’t worry, I work out.” Yes, he rather looks like he does. I find it funny how boys always find a way to work their exercise regimes into conversation, but I would not have expected it from Fawad.Hm.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smile. “Are Auntie and Uncle coming soon?” I ask. “They usually come in the winter, right?”
Fawad bristles. He always grows a little tense at the mention of his parents, but whenever I mention it to Naadia, she says she hasn’t noticed. I think he is so used to being alone, he finds it difficult when they come.
“Yes, they’re coming in a few weeks,” he says. Before I can inquire further, he changes the subject. “What did you make today?”
“I made two pies.”
“Did you make the crust from scratch? Isn’t that sort of tricky?”
“It is, but…”
Aizah falls asleep in my arms while Fawad and I chat about random, mundane things. I laugh as he tells me about the new tenants he went to visit, and how the auntie who answered the door thought he was an FBI agent, come to collect her husband because he apparently hasn’t paid his taxes for the past few years.
As infuriating as Fawad is sometimes, some days, like today, he is shockingly good company. I am comfortable around him, just the way I am with family members, and I suppose, in a way, he is family, since Asif and Naadia are married.
Not that I think of him as a brother. But on days like today, I do think of him as a friend.
After a little while, Papa approaches us, and the moment he sees Fawad, his face falls. I’m immediately alarmed, until I catch Papa scanning Fawad’s outfit, and I instantly know what his gripe is.
Papa shoots me an accusatory glare. “Why didn’t you letmewear a suit!” He exclaims.
“You can never go wrong with a suit, I always say,” Fawad interjects, adding insult to injury.
“Precisely my opinion,” Papa agrees, giving me a look. I roll my eyes.
“Was there something you wished to discuss with Fawad, Papa?” I ask, standing with Aizah in my arms. Her head rests against my shoulder; my heart squeezes with warmth. I adore babies so much.
“Yes, about that investment…”
As he and Fawad begin to discuss, I leave to take Aizah back to her mother. As I go back to the family room, another child runs into my legs, nearly knocking me over. Naadia makes eye contact with me during this encounter, and after I’ve dropped the sleeping baby off, I reconvene with my sister.
“What a nightmare,” Naadia says, handing me a glass of apple cider. “Children are absolute menaces.”
“They aren’t so bad,” I protest, grabbing some muenster cheese, raspberry jam, and crackers from the cheese board.
“Asif wants to try soon, but I told him not until I’ve finished residency,” Naadia says. She is in her last year of medical school and getting matched this March.
“Well, if you have one before then, leave the child to me. I’ll be an excellent khala.” I’ve always loved children and cannot wait to have my own. Yet another reason I wish to be married already. If not for the man, then for the babies.
“Don’t worry, I will,” Naadia says with a snort. “But just give me a few years.”
I pout. “I want one sooner.” I shake her arms. If there was a baby, the house wouldn't be so empty.
