“That would be dishonest of me.” Ade sat taller. “You don’t really care about what I think, you’re going to wear it anyway.”
Steph chuckled. “So true, sister. So very perceptive.”
Ade blocked out the remainder of Steph’s getting ready routine with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and her go-to playlist. She stretched on the sofa and drifted into a fantasy where Sylviecame along to Morocco for their birthday trip. Her absence gnawed a hole in her heart like nothing else. When they were back together, she’d make up for it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
A tap tapinside her skull wrenched Ade from another pleasant dream involving a half-naked Sylvie in the supply closet. She protested the transition to waking state with a groan. “What’s happening?” The incessant pounding was coming from directly behind. Ade unstrapped herself from the airline seat and leaned over to meet the eyes of a small child, holding his index finger in a decisive point. “What are you pressing back there?”
“I’m so sorry.” His mother met Ade’s blurry gaze. “He’s playing a game on the screen.”
“Sure.” Ade took a deep, calming breath. “Could he play a little more gently?”
“Of course.”
Ade settled back in her chair. If she was going to make it through the next few lonely days, she needed maximum reserves of patience with other people.
Flying above the puffs of clouds soothed Ade’s racing heart. She’d long ago rationalized that airplanes were safe enough to endure, but it didn’t diminish the primal fear that seized her in the moments of take-off and landing.
In the next seat, Steph chugged another beer. “You sure you don’t want to start our birthday celebration yet?”
Ade shook her head, content to remain sober for another few hours before a boozy flavor of anxiety replaced her usual kind. “I don’t see why we need to have a whole weekend of drinking.”
“We’re a quarter century. Don’t be such a bummer,” Steph said. “Do you think Dad will just send a cab to pick us up from the airport? By the time we get to the hotel, it’ll be siesta time for thosetwo.”
“Do they have a siesta in Morocco?” Ade questioned another of her sister’s throwaway cultural references.
“Whatever it is, Dad and Pops won’t make it through the afternoon without a nap.”
By the time they made it through customs, both their fathers were standing expectantly in arrivals, beaming with excitement and proving Steph’s assumptions wrong.
“Girls!” Their pops burst through the barrier, wrapping them both in his linen-clad arms. “I’ve missed you both.”
“Me too,” said their dad, exchanging kisses and hugs all round. “This is Aamir; he’s our driver for today.”
Steph and Ade exchanged a look, disapproving of their fathers’ privilege, and followed them through the revolving doors into a wall of heat. The North African breeze warmed Ade’s bones, and she rolled her shoulders. Maybe this was the break she needed from Europe’s wintry skies.
They clambered into Aamir’s SUV and set out onto the dusty highways, twisting and turning through the rust-colored landscape until they reached a settlement just north of Marrakesh.
“You sure splashed out on our birthday pad, guys,” Steph said, accepting Aamir’s hand as she stepped from the tall SUV.
Ade jumped out, creating a dust cloud which landed back on her boots. She squinted at the unassuming doorway.
Pops slipped his arm around her and squeezed. “Happy birthday weekend.”
“Thanks. You didn’t need to go to all this trouble.” She leaned against his chest.
“For my girls? Anything.” He grinned. “It didn’t take much to convince your dad to splurge.”
“Go on ahead,” said Pops, reaching for their weekend bags. “Behind that door is an oasis of luxury.”
Steph strode to the house, while Ade wandered through the inner courtyard until she came to a small swimming pool. “Do wehave it all to ourselves?” she asked, her voice carrying though the lush gardens.
“Affirmative, honey. We have the whole place to relax and celebrate.” Her dad reclined on a nearby sun lounger, his hands behind his head. “So, tell me all your news. How’s work going?”
For the first time in as long as she could remember, she could answer her dad’s probing questions honestly and with her head held high. “You know, it’s going really well. I’m starting to get somewhere with the chaperone role, and it’s like the students are really opening up to me.”
Pops strolled into the courtyard, carrying a tray of ice cold drinks. “Sounds great. I knew you’d find your feet. Nate?” He passed her dad a tumbler. “Homemade lemonade?”
