Page 72 of You'll Love it Here

“I see. And is that callus from knife things too?” I touch a rougher patch of skin on the inside of his thumb.

“I believe so.” He shifts and sits up. “We should get going. Ernest’s circadian rhythm is eerily good.”

“Yes, Chef,” I reply. As soon I get out of here, then time will start to pass. I’ll be letting everything I’ve set in motion, everything I’d been working so hard for, unfold.

He twists around me to grab my shirt from where it ended up slung over the headboard and hands it to me. I take it reluctantly while he stands up to get a white tee from his drawer. Once we’re both fully dressed, Sami heads into his kitchen to make us coffee and I follow him, sitting at the little bistro-size table in the corner.

That’s when my phone buzzes from the oak side table, new messages flashing across the screen with each second.

Only one person texts me like that. I reach for it and hold back the urge to sigh as my screen is covered in a wallpaper of:

Mom:It’s a big emergency

Mom:Urgently!

Mom:Mona. Please. Mommy needs you.

The sigh I let out comes automatically. It’s probably something minor, but despite all my logic telling me to maintain boundaries, I can’t bear to let her spiral. “Hey, Sami, I gotta make a quick call.”

“Of course.”

I sink into the super-plush navy couch in his living room. Before I can dial, my mom’s FaceTime request comes in. I answer and instantly her voice fills the room.

“There you are. It’s a big emergency, something bad.”

Sami’s ears perk as he pours the coffee into two thermoses.

My heart drops into my stomach.

“I’m getting the car oil changed, and this guy is saying we need to change the brake pads because they’re not road legal, but they make things up. Should I sue this kir?”

Sami can’t suppress his smirk, probably cause he understands she just called the guy a dick. I’m sure the guy on the other end can also guess she wasn’t exactly complimenting him in Farsi.

This is something my dad would’ve helped with. I don’t know shit about this kind of thing, but she’s about to get into an argument with a service worker again, and the weariness is too much to bear. I’m about to reason with her casually like I always do, but as I look at her face I’m suddenly so tired of it all. A wave of dread overwhelms me as I think about the many years in which this will continue.

“Mom,” I sigh. “I don’t know much about this.”

“But can you check into the laws? I can’t afford these prices.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I’ll pay for it, okay?” The words come out almost against my will—from the part of me that has zero fight left. I guess I was due for a financial blow—the streak we were on of hernotasking me went on long enough.

Sami walks past me to grab Ernest’s leash off the hook on the wall. A tiny bit of his shoulder manages to pass through the frame on the screen.

“Is that a man in the room?” She’s peering at my screen deeply.

“No!” Sami looks at me questioningly. “I’m just at my local diner,” I joke, half smiling at him.

“Are you on a date?” I furiously shake my head, begging Sami with my eyes to forgive me. “Yes you are! What kind of date runs away when your mom is asking to see him?”

Before I can make this stop forever, Sami comes closer. Grimacing, I turn the screen just enough to capture his arm. He leans forward and says, “Sami Zeker, here, nice to meet you.”

And my heart tightens at his polite mom-friendly smile.

My mom’s eyes light up even more than Sami’s. She switches to Farsi and Sami replies. They break out into laughter, while I stare at them hating all of it. Having a guy around who my mom can speak to without me is a whole other layer.

He catches my eye and switches to English. “What shop are you at?”

She mentions the name and Sami says, “Oh, they’re in Crowfoot, right? Yes, I’ve heard of them. They’ve got a good reputation.”