Page 51 of Her Sensual Protector

“Sana’a,” Maysa said wistfully. “That is where I met your father.” She turned to Daisy. “I do not understand how I could help you.”

“My job is to help women around the world, but first I need to understand what they need. I know that there are currently agencies working night and day to provide food, water, shelter, and medical care to everyone they can. But what is something else that can be done?”

Maysa kept her eyes down, not answering her question.

“Maysa, this is important. My job is to help women all over the world. During war and famine, women have different needs than men. Our troubles are different. Our sacrifices are often greater, but people don’t notice. It is my job to notice. I have many people who work with me, and we find ways to help. But we can’t help if people don’t tell us what needs to be done.”

“You can’t help,” Maysa whispered. “It is always the same.”

“You’re right, there is no way I will ever be able to help if I’m not told what the problem is, but if you tell me, then there is a possibility I can.” Daisy prayed that her Arabic was good enough that Maysa was understanding her. “Please tell me a woman’s problem.”

Maysa looked up, her eyes determined.

“A family with a man is sometimes better.”

Daisy waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

“How is it better?”

“The man can help to build a better home, sometimes with stones, so it will be warmer. He can sometimes find work or food while the woman cooks and cares for the children. Do you understand?”

Daisy nodded. “Go on.”

“We need more aid than the households with a man, but that is not taken into consideration when aid is distributed.”

What Maysa said made perfect sense, and Daisy didn’t see that ever changing. The aid organizations were working hard to be scrupulously fair in their distribution of supplies. The only time a woman would get more is if she were pregnant or breastfeeding. Then she would almost need even more aid, because she wouldn’t be able to cook for her family, or go out to the community well and get water for her family. The women were in a catch-22. Which was the whole reason W.A.N.T. had been started.

One-quarter of the families here in the internally displaced person camp were headed by women. Quick math told Daisy she was dealing with about two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand. The task seemed insurmountable. Even though W.A.N.T. was now bringing in hundreds of millions of dollars a year, there was no way they could cover feeding that number of people daily, and still continue their other endeavors.

“Maysa, this is exactly the kind of information I need. I’m going to be here for the next two weeks. I am going to have some of my teammates coming here too. Can I come back and ask you more questions?”

“Yes,” Maysa smiled.

“Is it possible that you can bring other women to talk to us?”

The woman nodded.

“Thank you.”

* * *

It was the fourth time he’d left a voicemail, and three texts had gone unanswered. If he had the sense God gave a gnat, he’d give up.

“That’s the third time you’ve looked at your phone in the last half-hour,” his sister Maria teased him.

He looked up and realized that everyone around the dining room table was looking at him. Most of them had grins on their faces. Assholes. Except for his Mama—he could never say anything bad about her.

“Mijo, is something wrong?” his mother asked.

Leo sighed. “No, Mama.”

“You haven’t said a word all evening,” she coaxed. “Tell us what’s wrong.”

He looked around the table at all the amused faces of his brothers and sisters and managed not to wince.

“That’s not true, Mama. I told you that your dress looked gorgeous on you, and I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”

“Kiss ass,” his brother Martin coughed under his breath. He was seated next to Leo.