Page 71 of You Started It

“Who doesn’t?”

“Me. That’s who. I don’t like to sing,” I say, pulling at my earlobe.

“No pressure. The karaoke is just part of the ambiance.” He smiles sweetly and reaches for my hand across the table, entwining his fingers with mine. This is the moment. This is the moment Axel will ask me to be his girlfriend. I will my heart to behave by taking in breaths through my nose and letting them out discreetly. “I wanted to thank you,” he begins, “for what you did at the wedding. Encouraging me to get up there in front of my father. It’s really changed things between us. It feels like I’ve finally earned his respect. And it’s all because of you.”

“And the pregnant belly dancer,” I say.

I expect Axel to laugh but his expression remains serious as his thumb strokes my hand. “It’s just been nice to not have to tiptoe around my father anymore. I honestly didn’t think he’d ever come around. You entering my life, in the bizarre way you did, has made everything so much better. Except my bike.” He squeezes my hand and we laugh. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. You’re so smart and funny. I love how confident you are about some things, and other times, so vulnerable. I don’t think you see how special or unique you are. There’s only one Jamie Taher-Foster and I feel pretty lucky to know her.”

I swallow and study our intertwined fingers. Sometimes when things get too real, too emotional, I struggle to maintain eye contact or I’ll change the subject. “I saw Ben today,” I say, remaining consistent as ever.

“Oh yeah?” Axel asks without flinching.

“Yeah.” I twist my mouth, fighting away a smile. “I went to his house and left a box of his junk at his front door. Want to know why I did that?”

“I do.” He smiles.

“Because I wanted to officially close the chapter on Ben Cameron. But I guess that means the end of something else.” I reach into my bag and pull out the unsigned contract, sliding it across the table. “Axel Dahini, do you agree to terminate the terms and conditions of this agreement?”

He laughs as he picks it up. “You know, I never did sign this.”

“I do know that. And,” I continue, looking at the pages in his hands, “you never told me the meaning behind your bike’s name.”

“It was to honor my grandmother,” he finally reveals, as he places the contract on the table. “My dad’s mom. She lived with us when I was growing up. She passed away when I was fourteen.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, seeing the hurt in his eyes. But also the love.

“Thanks. She didn’t know much English. The truth is, she couldn’t be bothered to learn it.” He laughs to himself. “But in hindsight, I’m pretty sure it was her plan all along, because it forced me to learn how to speak Arabic.”

“I’m so jealous that you have that,” I say. Not only can Axel speak Arabic, but he also got to have a close relationship with his grandmother. “But how does this explain Betty White?”

“I’m getting there. Patience, butterfly.” He boops my nose with his finger and winks before continuing. “One day I walked into the family room to find my teta watchingGolden Girls. I was about eight or nine at the time. She made me sit next to her and translate everything that was happening. And if you’ve ever watchedGolden Girls,you can imagine that not everything was”—he clears his throat—“easily translatable. Anyway, it became our thing. We’dwatch an episode together at night. I’d practice my Arabic, she’d correct it, and we’d both laugh.”

“That’s so adorable I could puke,” I say, not doing a great job at hiding my envy. “I can’t speak Arabic; I barely know my mother’s parents; and my grandparents on my father’s side are snowbirds and spend half the year in Florida. Not like they’re the warm and fuzzy type anyway.”

“But you have an Amo Eli, and he’s pretty cool.”

“He is.” I smile. “So I guess Betty White was her favorite Golden Girl then?”

“Rose.” He nods. “Yeah. It’s kind of funny when you think about it. How my bike brought us together. Maybe my teta had something to do with it.”

There’s a beat of silence before Axel returns to the contract, looking it over quickly.

“Some of these aren’t so terrible, James. I’m not sure I want to terminate the entire contract just yet.”

“Which items would you like to revisit, Alexander?”

“Have your lawyer call mine.” He grins before putting it down and leaning in to kiss me.

“Ahem! No public displays of affection over rank bar tables,” a deep voice says above us.

We pull apart and Axel bolts out of his seat and greets two people with aggressive handshakes turned full body hugs. “Dude! It’s been too long,” the guy with bleached blond tips says.

“I know. I’ve been distracted,” Axel says, smiling down at me. “Sit down. This is Jamie. Jamie, this is Finn,” he says, gesturing at Blond Tips, “and Diesel.”

“Hey. I use they/them pronouns,” Diesel says. “You?”

“Oh. She/her. I’m straight,” I say, suddenly feeling super uncool and out of place. “Wait, sorry. That’s not the right way to say it.”I rake my fingers through my hair. My eyes lock with Axel’s and he nods encouragingly. I pause and take a deep breath. “I’m a cishet girl,” I try again.

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