Sameera and Esa threw popcorn at Naveed, always the academic.
“I’ve never understood elves,” Tahsin admitted. “Are they like jinn?” She referred to the beings made of smokeless fire known as the Unseen, which were part of the Muslim belief system.
“No,jaan, they’re more like angels. Santa is their imam, and they help him,” Naveed said.
“Okay, but have you ever seen one of those Elf on a Shelf things? Those guys are definitely jinn,” Esa said. “One time when we were kids, Tyler invited me to his house around Christmas, and he told me the elf moved in the night and spied on the kids to make sure they behaved.”
“Not a jinni,” Sameera said firmly. Most Westerners had no concept of the Unseen beyond the “genie” in Aladdin’s lamp; the opposite seemed to be the case for her Muslim family, who suspected the presence of jinn everywhere.
“I never understood why they decorate pine trees instead of palm trees,” her little brother said now. “Prophet Esa was born in the Middle East. Not a conifer in sight.”
“The pine trees are tradition, not religion, like breaking your fast with samosas orhaleem,” Sameera said absently.
“Prophet Esa was born in the spring, in any case,” Tahsin added. “I read that somewhere. But December is a convenient time to celebrate, nah? Not much else to do in the middle of winter. It’s like with your Yaqub Nana—no one knew when his birthday really was, so we just celebrated every Fourth of July. Easy to remember.”
Usually, Sameera became impatient with her family’s random musings, but tonight she felt buoyed by a sense of contentment. When the movie finished, Tahsin waited until both men had cleared out before turning to Sameera.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you laugh like that,” Tahsin said, reaching out to smooth Sameera’s hair. The gesture was automatic and affectionate. Sameera wondered if her mother was thinking about the scene halfway through the movie, when Kevin spoke with his scary neighbor at church about his fears, and the neighbor confided that he was estranged from his adult son, and had been for years. The scene had hit Sameera especially hard.
They had never really talked about Sameera’s love life before her situation with Hunter blew up. Her parents had been raised in traditional South Asian families in India, and hadn’t learned how to talk to their children about relationships, romantic and otherwise. That was part of the problem, Sameera knew. She had internalized their silence until it had grown toxic.
“I like Tom a lot,” Tahsin said.
“I’m aware I don’t have the best track record when it comes to men,” Sameera started. She knew she should try to convince her mother that she and Tom weren’t together, but she was tired, and the evening had been so peaceful that she didn’t want to get into another argument about this tonight.
“What Hunter did wasnot your fault,” Tahsin said, her voice so severe it made Sameera blink. She patted her daughter on her shoulder.“In any case, you have learned from your mistakes and have chosen better, this time.Alhamdulillah.”
A feeling rose in Sameera’s throat: love, helplessness, despair, all mixed together. Even though Tom wasn’t her boyfriend, it soothed something in her heart to hear that her mother approved, or at least didn’t immediately jump to judgment. Perhaps if she had been more open about Hunter all those years ago, things might have turned out differently.
Or maybe the pain that Hunter had caused her and her family was the price for this new understanding. A scary thought.
“We are always on your side,” Tahsin said.
Naveed had finished tidying the kitchen, and he came to join them, taking his wife’s arm. With a hushed “shabba khair”—“good night”—they made their way to their bedroom, leaving Sameera in the dark.
Chapter Nine
“Is that a wolf?” Esa said, and Sameera’s eyes flew open.
She had fallen asleep on the couch last night, relocating there after tossing and turning in her bed for hours, her mother’s words ringing in her ears. Despite her justification and rationalization during the day, when she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, all the worry, guilt, and fear she’d tamped down rose in a panicky wave.
What was she doing in Alaska when she needed to be in Atlanta, trying as hard as she could to catch up on her billable hours this quarter? Instead, she had spent last night watching a holiday classic and arguing about what made a good Christmas movie, then sleeping in until—she peered at her phone—nearly 9:00 a.m.
“I think there’s a wolf in our backyard. Sameera, come see!” The delight and wonder in Esa’s voice had her throwing off the blanket she had dragged to the couch from her bed.
Esa stood in front of the big bay window. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but a lamp was lit and she followed his pointing finger toward ...
A wolf. Or maybe a snow leopard. Sameera wasn’t sure. Either way, a white furry ball of fluff, almost as tall as their mother, with icy blue eyes and a lolling tongue, stared straight through the window at them. And it looked hungry.
“Get down!” Sameera said, pulling her brother to a crouch beside her.
“Why?” Esa said.
“It thinks you’re breakfast!” she said, panicking.
“Can we keep it?” Esa asked.
They popped up their heads to take a look, and the wolf or snow leopard yawned widely, showing off razor-sharp teeth. Sameera whimpered. Beside her, Esa snapped a picture.
