abooki, ya sagheerati.”
I’m your father, my little one. Delivered in a vocal caress that was delight soaked in wonder and pride and possessiveness and a dozen other emotions.
Carmen’s heart splintered.
Oh God. Oh God. If she’d had the least doubt before, she no longer had it. He wanted Mennah. Fiercely wanted her.
And she’d once had a taste of how fiercely he could want…
Her eyes snapped to Mennah, dread of her reaction mounting, every muscle ready to snatch her up at the first whimper, to soothe her, ameliorate his disappointment, promise she’d soon get used to him. Not that she had any idea how Mennah would do that, when she had no idea how he intended to be in her life from now on, at best as a long-distance father…
Mennah’s piercing squeal had her heart almost kicking her off her feet. She surged forward, but Mennah was…she was…She was smiling!
And not any smile, but a huge, dimpled one. Then she was eagerly rolling to a sitting position, holding up her arms, her chubby hands closing and opening, beckoning, demanding to be picked up. By Farooq!
Farooq whooped in elation, scooped her up. “Erefteeni, ya zakeyah!” He held her up, his large hands spanning her rib cage. “You’re so clever you recognized me at once.” He tickled her and she kicked her legs, screeching sharp sounds of pleasure, reaching out both hands to his face, her palms landing anywhere. He let her paw him, his chuckles escalating into guffaws.
Suddenly he took her to his chest, enfolded her, closed his eyes on a deep, long groan. Carmen’s heart swelled so fast, so hard she felt it might burst. Next moment, it almost did.
Mennah mashed her face into his neck and went still. Closed her eyes, too. As if to savor her father’s feel, inhale his scent, absorb his power and protection.
And Carmen’s tears wouldn’t be held back anymore.
She swung around, ran out, needing to get as far as possible before a storm of anguish like those that had overcome her all through her pregnancy overtook her.
She closed the door to the bathroom, slumped on it as sobs shredded through her.
To see them together, father and daughter, to know what she’d deprived them of, to know she hadn’t had to run, to endure all the pain alone, that he would have been there for her, if only for the sake of the daughter she’d been carrying…
A knock at her back almost heaped her to the floor again.
“Mennah wants to see you now, Carmen.”
Farooq’s voice was…tender. It had to be the distortion of hearing it through the door…But no, it was tender for Mennah. She would never know anything soft or indulgent from him again.
She wiped both sleeves over her eyes, ran shaking fingers through her mess of tangles. Then she opened the door and stepped back into the hall. The sight that greeted her almost sent the dammed anguish flooding again.
Farooq had discarded his jacket, now stood with shirt half unbuttoned, raven mane mussed, glossy locks raining down his leonine forehead, with Mennah perched on his left hip, looking at her gleefully as if asking her to share this incredible find, this giant she’d already twisted around her little finger. He, too, was smiling hugely. She knew it wasn’t at her. This was his pleasure at holding Mennah, his whimsy at his unbridled reaction to her.
“So this is what a bundle of joy is.” He looked down on Mennah, giving her a playful squeeze. She squealed, buried her face into his chest, her fingers going for the hair. He winced, his lips spreading wider with her first pull. He carefully disentangled her fingers. “ Ma beyseer, ya kanzi es-’sagheer. It doesn’t work that way, my little treasure. Your father’s hairs remain where they are. Let me give you something else to maul.”
He dipped into his pocket, produced what Carmen assumed was a cell phone. It had probably been designed for him. He pushed a button, had it displaying a video of animals in the wild. Mennah grabbed it in eager hands,
Brian Keene, J.F. Gonzalez