Page 72 of A Discovery: Love and Other Things
The curt voice on the other end responded, “Hello? Miss Sanura?”
“Yes. Hi, Aaqil. How are you?”
“Do you have a pen and paper nearby?” he asked abruptly.
“Uh—what—yes. I do.” I put the phone between my ear and shoulder and grabbed the notepad and pen from the desk, all the while waiting for him to explain why I needed them.
“I have an address. You’ll want to write it down.”
My eyes widened as Aaqil rattled off the information at warp speed. My brain, and hand, could barely keep up with his words.
James stared at me with concern. “What?” he mouthed.
I covered the mouthpiece, my pulse racing. “We need to leave for London.”
Chapter 28
“Are you sure you want me to go in? It might seem inappropriate that I’m here with you.”
The man who was my boyfriend and not my husband.I didn’t care about any cultural conventions that his presence would break. I gripped James’s hand tighter, my nails digging into his flesh. “If you don’t come with me, I don’t think I can do this.”
“I’m here,” he whispered. His thumb stroked my knuckles, taming some of my anxiety.
I lifted my chin and steeled my spine.One last deep breath.Then I pressed the doorbell.
I could hear the faint chime from the other side of the dark brown door.
Moments felt like hours.
“Do you think he’s home?” James asked.
“He said he would be when I called last night.”
After the shock had worn off from Aaqil’s call, I had somehow mustered enough courage to call the number that he had given for my uncle. As if the universe were rooting me on, a man had answered on the second ring.
His voice was surreal yet familiar—the same slightly hoarse airiness in it that Baba had in home videos.
We’d talked for an hour and a half. Apparently, he hadn’t known how to contact me since Mom and I had moved shortly afterBaba had passed away. Back then, my uncle hadn’t spoken any English, so all his communication had been solely through Baba. He had learned English since then because we could both understand each other during our conversation.
He and his wife, my aunt Miriam, had sold their business and moved to England years ago to join my cousins, Shireen and Shiraz, who were attending university in London. The entire family had been living there ever since.
Uncle Yusuf was very eager to meet, so I’d followed my heart after hanging up with him and booked the first flight to London that I could find for myself and James. It had been impulsive, but I couldn’t wait any longer.
I rang the bell and listened to it chime again. A shadow darkened the stained-glass flower design in the center of the door.
It opened, revealing a little boy with wavy dark hair and matching brown eyes, no older than nine years old, standing with his hand on his hip.
I looked to James, unsure of how to proceed since I’d been expecting someone over five feet to answer, but he just shrugged his shoulders. “Um...hi. I’m Sanura.”
“I’m Samir.” He offered a quick wave but nothing more.
“Is there an adult at home?”
He narrowed his eyes at me before turning his head and calling out into the house, “Baba! Some weird lady is here.”
James chuckled next to me.
Suddenly, a man approached the boy and rested his hands on his shoulders. He had to be in his late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair on his head and chin. His eyes were dark just like mine but with wrinkles around the corners. He looked so much like photos of my Baba.
