“Remember when I told you that I thought we hadn’t given our parents enough credit? That we made decisions based on an assumed anger without solid evidence? I think that applies to us, too. To me. I wanted to be an actor, and when that dream fell apart, I just... gave up. And now that I am what I set out to be—averysuccessful lawyer”—his eyebrows waggled at this self-aggrandizement, and Maryam chuckled—“part of me is angry at that other, younger Saif. For giving up and runningaway. For not taking failure on the chin and fighting. For not persisting. I don’t know if any of this makes sense.”
He was mourning his younger self in the shadow of the successful person he had become. Maryam knew how he felt, maybe better than anyone. Hadn’t she done the same thing? Beside him, she nodded. “It makes perfect sense to me,” she said.
“I feel it more during certain times of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I love California. It’s beautiful and sunny, and I’ve made so many good friends. I like where I work. But sometimes, especially during Ramadan, I get this intense pang of... homesickness. It sounds strange, I know.”
“You’re missing your people, being around the ones who know you best,” Maryam said.
Saif nodded. “Every Ramadan when I fast, or when I drive to the nearest mosque, I think about how things were when we were young. Being here in Snow Falls—with you and your family—brought that all back. I guess I miss who I was before I became who I am right now.”
Maryam was moved by his words. “I like who you are right now,” she admitted. “Not just who you were back then.”
Saif stopped walking and turned to look at her. “I like who you are, too.”
Maryam’s heart sped up at his words. How did Saif always know exactly what to say? She wanted to return his trust. To tell him something she had barely admitted to herself because she knew he would understand. “Sometimes I resent Saima. She got to leave home while I stayed behind. I’m happy in Denver,” she hurried to say. “But sometimes I wish I had lived a more adventurous life, like you. I love my sister, but she’s always taken it for granted that I’ll stay at home to take care of things.When I stopped doing that over the course of our... snow day, I think it shocked her.”
“Snow day,” Saif mused. “Is that what this is? Do you think things will be different once we get back to our regular lives?”
“I think that depends on us,” Maryam said. They had stopped walking again. At this rate, they wouldn’t reach the airport until tomorrow afternoon, but Maryam couldn’t seem to force herself to take another step forward, suddenly lost in Saif’s dark brown eyes. His expression softened, and he reached out a hand—
A piercing honk startled them apart. A large truck with an enormous bright orange plow attached to the front sped toward them, horn honking a few more times. The truck stopped beside them, and the passenger-side window rolled down to reveal a worried Deb.
“There you are! We were afraid you’d freeze out here. Jerry offered to give us a lift when we explained the situation.”
“What situation?” Maryam asked, nodding at Jerry, an older white man with a thick gray beard.He’d make a good Santa, she thought, filing the information away for later.
“Saima didn’t head to the airport like we thought. She went into town. She’s at that little mosque right now. We came to fetch you, soon as we heard.” Deb moved over to make space. “It’s a tight squeeze, but can’t leave you behind, Saif. The temperature plunges at night.”
Saif helped Maryam up, his hand warm even through her wool mitten, before hauling himself inside the cab. Deb wasn’t lying—it was a tight fit. Maryam was wedged against Saif. They both tried to ignore the close quarters, but when shehazarded a glance, she could see his cheeks had pinked at the proximity, even as he tried to shift, to give her more room. Impulsively, she laid a hand on his arm.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. Then: “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
Saif met her gaze. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said. They both looked straight ahead, and Maryam felt her arm tingling where it was pressed against his hard chest. Saif shifted to lay his arm over the top of the bench seat, to give her more room, but the movement had the opposite effect and—briefly unbalanced—she toppled against his side. They both froze at this more intimate position before cautiously relaxing. Maryam closed her eyes and inhaled his scent: pine needles, citrus, and a hint of coffee from hissuhoor.
“I’m sorry if I stink,” he said, trying to joke, though his voice was hoarse.
She turned her face up to his. They were so close her head was tucked right below his chin, and she fought the urge to burrow into the hollow of his throat and inhale deeply. Their physical intimacy was nearly overpowering.
“You always smell good,” she said instead, and he huffed out an embarrassed laugh.
Saif had been there for her during this entire trip, Maryam thought. He had helped her cooksuhoor, ordered food that first night, kept Dadu company, and been unfailingly generous. Plus, he had helped her realize her own dreams. What was happening between them was getting harder for her to ignore—though another, deeper part of her still had doubts, still resisted the pull of a new relationship.
“Sarah from Topkapi Café called the inn after you all left,”Deb said, interrupting her train of thoughts. They were headed toward Main Street; Maryam had been so wrapped up in Saif she had barely noticed. “Saima had been there for a while, but it was hard to get a word out of her, she was crying so much. Once Sarah got her settled, she let us know, and luckily Jerry was round doing the roads and offered a lift. We came straight after you.”
“I’m not sure Saima will want to talk to me,” Maryam said, trying not to focus on her galloping emotions. “She’s pretty upset with all of us.”
“She’s your sister; you’ll fight and you’ll squabble, but in the end, you’re all you’ve got. I’ve three sisters back in Tasmania. We’d scream and yell in the morning, but then be all cuddled in a heap on the couch by evening. Wildcats, our mum called us. I miss them every day.”
Maryam stared out the window, at the pretty shops they slowly passed. Thanks to the oversized tires and snowplow, she could actually see some of the street in front of her as they drove. She straightened as they approached an adorable Italian restaurant.
“Isn’t that—” she started.
“Buon Natalie’s, yes, excellent meatballs,” Deb said.
“It’s where they shot the movie my wife loves,One Night at Christmas,” Jerry rumbled. He even sounded like Santa Claus, Maryam thought.
As they drove past the restaurant, Maryam recognized a familiar couple in the window—Josh and Anna, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. Her heart melted at the sight of her new friends sharing a beautiful moment together.
Beside her, she felt Saif shift. “I’m glad I was wrong aboutChase,” he said, so only she could hear. “He really likes Anna. I bet they will make it work, even if it’s long distance.”
