I’ll bring some peaches.
Are you trying to bribe me? she texted jokingly.
I’d do just about anything to see you shining again on that beach this afternoon.
Her cheeks had grown hot at that. His words had sounded intensely sexual in her head . . . but somehow sacred too.
After lunch, Laila helped her mother clean up and then said she was going to put on her suit for the beach.
“No, I need you here this afternoon,” her mother said.
“But Tahi and Zara are going—”
“I know, but it’s your khal-ti Nora’s birthday tomorrow. That’s why your father and your uncles are coming to Crescent Bay early. You and I need to get busy and make Nora some of her favorites for her party. Plus, we need to decide what we should do for decorations. I thought we could run into town this afternoon and pick out some things.”
“But, Mamma, I can do that tomorrow—”
“We still have plenty to do tomorrow. Think of all Nora does for you. She’s your favorite auntie,” her mom said, looking hurt and a little put out. “Have you even gotten her a gift yet?”
“No, but I was going to get her something in time for her party. Tahi is her daughter, and she’s going to the beach this afternoon,” Laila exclaimed heatedly.
“Tahi isn’t my daughter. You are. And Nora and I are very close. We’ll show her the respect and the love she deserves.”
Her mother turned away to shut a cupboard with a sharp bang. Laila stood there, fuming and helpless, understanding that not only the cabinet door but the conversation had been closed.
She walked away from her mother, hiding tears of anger and desperation. Hating that she had to do it yet again, she texted Asher and told him she wouldn’t be able to meet him at the beach.
• • •
The next day, her father and uncles were due to arrive from Detroit in the late afternoon. Mamma decided to have Nora’s birthday celebration on the beach. Laila, Tahi and Zara got a long table ready, decorating it with the bright tablecloth, pretty lanterns and fresh flowers Laila and her mother had purchased yesterday in town.
She grew increasingly anxious and discontent as the day progressed and she helped her mother in the kitchen, thinking of Asher waiting for her at the beach yesterday and how she’d had to disappoint him, ruminating about the questions she’d been asking herself over and over again about her life.
Was Asher right? Should she be living her passion, instead of taking the safe path? Should she be studying music or poetry? Were her dreams about composing and even performing her songs the fantasies of a child? Or were they the potential of her true self, the poet in her . . . the artist?
As one o’clock approached, she grew increasingly restless and short-tempered as she cooked with her mom. All she could think about was that she was missing her time with Asher again at their secret beach. What was he doing?
As she was pulling an orange and almond cake out of the oven, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She’d gotten a message. Somehow, she just knew it was from Asher. She almost dropped the cake.
“What’s gotten into you?” Mamma demanded, coming up beside her. “You’ve been as jumpy as a nervous rabbit for days. There,” she said, taking the cake from her and setting it on the counter. “Should we do powdered sugar or icing for it?”
“What? Oh, I don’t know, whatever you want,” Laila replied distractedly, removing the oven mitts and tossing them on the counter.
“Where are you going?” her mother demanded when she started to walk out of the kitchen.
“To the bathroom, is that okay, Mamma?” she seethed, exasperated.
Her mom took off her oven mitts and approached her, a worried expression tightening her features. She touched Laila’s forehead with the back of her fingers.
“Stop it. I’m not sick!” she said, unable to keep the irritation out of her voice. She stalked out of the kitchen, worried she’d say something else to further insult her mother in her frayed mood. Only when she was in the dim hallway did she pull her phone out of her pocket. Her throat ached when she saw the text was from Asher.
Hey. I was just thinking about you.
She typed rapidly.
I was just thinking about you too. One o’clock. Her smiley face was to hide the way she was really feeling: miserable.
Do you think you can get away tomorrow at one?