Page 98 of The Moon Also Rises
Jake
While I didn’t have long to imagine what Rami’s family home would look like, as we pull up to the semi-detached Tudor-style 1930s house, I realise it’s exactly what I expected. It’s also exactly what I wish I had as an adult – a childhood home I can return to where older versions of my parents wait eagerly on the doorstep – but that dream shattered a long, long time ago.
Of course, it’s not all dream-like for Rami either. I’m sure he desperately wishes his father was stood next to his mother on the driveway, but he isn’t. She does, however, seem to do her best to make up for any missing hugs as she embraces her son at length, a hug that he returns just as willingly. After Rami hugs his other sister – Radia, I assume – he introduces me to them both. They all greet me with warm enthusiasm and I do my best to return it. When his mother, Raina, shakes my hand she doesn’t let go and uses her hold to lead me into the house ahead of everyone else, something that warms parts of me that have possibly been lying dormant since my own mother passed.
Inside, the house is cosy and tastefully decorated and the walls are covered in artwork and photos. A bittersweet feeling settles inside my stomach when I realise all the framed pictures are of the three children, or alternatively, they are treasured artwork created by them. Part of me wants to stand in the hallway and study each photo, each messy, colourful painting, but Raina still has my hand in hers and she’s taking me through to the kitchen where she insists I sit at a small round table in one corner.
“Would you like a coffee, Jake? Or a tea?”
“A tea would be lovely,” I say and I notice Rami lean against the kitchen counter opposite me. He’s smiling and looking a lot more relaxed than I feel.
“Rami, see to that will you,” Raina waves her hand at her son and after only a quick beat, he jumps into action.
“I’ll have one too,” says Radia as she comes to sit next to me.
“And me,” Roxana takes the chair on the other side of me.
“Don’t get used to this,” Rami says, pointing a teaspoon at us all.
“So, what’s he really like at work?” Roxie leans closer. “Rami’s never really had an office job before. I bet Radi he wouldn’t last six months. Do you think I’ll get a tenner out of it?”
“Why, what was he doing before this job?” I ask.
“Oh, you know, travelling the world, and—" Roxie stops abruptly. Her eyes snap to Radia who is looking cautiously at her brother.
“Travelling the world and pretending it was work,” Radia finishes.
“Yeah, there was a lot of travel,” Rami says but he has his back to us as he retrieves mugs from a cupboard. “But itwaswork, I can assure you.”
His mother’s cough is a sharp, curt sound.
“We’re going to have a beef bazella, which is like a pea stew, with tabbouleh and rice for lunch, Jake. Or there will be a vegetarian version for Rami and Radia, if you prefer that. I hope that sounds okay.” She comes to stand by my chair.
“The beef sounds delicious.” I hope the smile I’m offering Rami’s mother is as warm as the one she’s giving me.
The kitchen quickly descends into a rumbling cacophony of conversation and cooking noises. Rami busies himself chopping vegetables by his mother’s side, while Radia tells me more about her work, and Roxana asks me questions about my job. Both of his sisters are incredibly easy to talk to and they have sharp, lively senses of humour that occasionally reveal a dark side. I like them both immediately.
Just as I’m telling them a bit about this one time in Crete when I saved the resort from a suds tsunami after a guest put bubble bath in a jacuzzi, Roxana jumps up and leaves the room without saying anything. When she returns, she’s carrying a stack of photo albums. Over the course of the next hour, I learn that Rami was right to say spending time with his sisters would provide me with instant ammunition for our future conversations. While he and his mother cook behind us, Radia and Roxie take me through countless photos of Rami’s formative years, including the most adorable pictures of Rami in dresses, Rami in make-up, Rami in criminally short shorts, and cutest of all, Rami completely naked watering plants in the garden that is just outside the window.
How his mother doesn’t know her son is queer is beyond me.
My face sore from near-constant grinning and chuckling with Rami’s sisters, we are called to the dining room where lunch will be served.
The meal lives up to the promises the scent of Raina’s cooking gave me and I happily take a fully loaded plate from Rami.
It’s not long after I’ve practically licked my plate clean that Raina asks me if I have a boyfriend. Before I reply, I shoot Rami a quick look that I hope conveys how foolish he is to think she would ever have a problem with his sexuality.
“No, I don’t,” I say, and I reach for one of a handful of my default responses to this question. “I like to keep my options open.”
“That’s exactly what you should do while you’re still young,” she says with a kind smile.
Her comment is polite if a little misplaced, but regardless I think I am in love with this woman. Briefly, I wonder if this is what my mother would have been like if she was still here, if she had had a different life. Would she have been so welcoming? Would she have been so visibly delighted to have her grown-up children sitting around her table?
“And Rami hasn’t caught anyone’s eye at work?” Her question is followed by silence as all three of her children stop moving their knives and forks and ping-pong looks at each other. If they think they’re being subtle, they’re very mistaken and I’m in half a mind to think that their mother knows it too.
“Rami? Oh, I’m sure he’s caught many peoples’ eye but he probably doesn’t know it. He’s too busy working hard and trying to get on my nerves.”
“I do not…” Rami tries.
