Page 46 of The Moon Also Rises
“Hey, Rami,” Jake whispers into the darkness.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice dry and airy. I didn’t know he was still awake.
“Wake me up before you go… go,” Jake mumbles before he starts snoring.
Smiling, I roll over to face him and watch the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes deep, slow and relaxed in his sleep. And eventually, I fall asleep too.
Chapter Thirteen
Rami
One good thing about my former career is that I got quite good at sleeping while on the move, and I benefit from this by having an almost two-hour nap on the train up to Birmingham. I’m almost as grateful for that as I am for seeing my sister, Roxie, waiting for me in her banged-up Renault Clio in the pick-up area of Birmingham New Street station. I am less grateful for the emo music blaring out of her speakers as we drive through the city and the suburbs until we are pulling up to my childhood home.
“Mom’s gone all out today,” Roxie says as we get out of the car. “Made all your favourites…Bamia,a veganZereshk polo, pita, Muhammara.”
“They’re your favourites too,” I point out.
“But she’s not making them for me. I live here. She could make them any time but she’s making them on the day her darling Rami is coming to visit. Just accept the compliment. You’re her favourite. Enjoy it.”
I smile but don’t say anything. I shouldn’t be her favourite.
Inside, the scents of all those foods flood me and I can’t help but go and investigate further in the kitchen. Mom is there, busy at the stove, the same blue and white striped apron she always wears to cook worn over her clothes. Before I can call out to her, she turns to see me and her smile takes up her whole face, crinkling the corners of her grey eyes and bunching up her cheeks.
“Rami,” she says.
“Mama.” I bend down to give her a hug. It’s a miracle I am as tall as I am as my mother is a little over five feet, and my father was only half a foot taller. Mom often says I got my sisters’ height as well as my own because they are also petite.
“You look tired,” she says when she pulls away, her hand cupping my face.
“I am,” I admit. “It was a late night.”
“A good late night?”
My smile is unstoppable. “It was, actually.”
“I need to know more.” She returns to the stove and starts stirring a saucepan.
“Nothing to tell,” I say quickly. “Can I make a coffee?”
Mama waves her free hand at me. “You don’t need to ask! This is your home!”
I don’t reply how it hasn’t felt like home for a while. Even when I was living here while trying to make sense of everything that happened in California, I didn’t allow myself to feel fully at home here. I didn’t deserve that.
“Would you like one?” I offer as I go to the machine.
“No, thank you, darling,” she says. We both fall silent and the sounds of sizzling food and the whirring of the coffee machine fill the room.
“So, Radia has a date today,” I say, keen to talk about something, anything that isn’t related to me.
“Oh, yes. She sent me a photo of her,” Mom says, and she moves quickly to the other side of the kitchen and picks up her phone. “Look.”
I glance at the phone and see a pretty dark-skinned woman with deep brown eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a smile just for the person taking the photo. Radia, I assume.
“Time for you to find yourself a beautiful woman,” Mom says and I’m glad my back is to her when I wince.
“Mama, I’ve just started my new job,” I say.
“Yes, tell me how that is going.”
