CHAPTER 21

ADELE’S ART EXHIBITION WAS HELD in a converted warehouse-turned-art gallery. There were more people than she had anticipated. She nervously paced the backroom, peering over the ledge of the wall and staring at all the guests who stood with their hands on their hips, tilting their heads slightly in that deep-concentrated sort of way, gazing at her paintings, her creations. She jumped when she felt someone squeezing her shoulder. It was Mona, who leaned in close and kissed her on both cheeks. “Thanks for coming,” Adele whispered. She glanced over Mona’s shoulders, searching the room for Rima and Katrina but the other two sisters were not there.

“They couldn’t make it.” Mona reached out and clasped Adele’s hands in her own. They were trembling badly. “Don’t be nervous, Adele. Everyone loves your work. I heard glowing remarks when I walked across the room. And if they don’t like it, then fuck them.”

The sisters laughed and then joined the crowd admiring the paintings that recreated their past and their parents’ homeland, and that evoked the smell of cedars, the bitter taste of olives, and the sweet, pinkish pulp of figs.

As they left the art gallery, raindrops began to fall and Mona suggested that they go into a church nearby, not so much to get out of the sudden downpour but to talk.

When they walked inside, the smell of incense floated in their nostrils. It was ironic that the closest church happened to be Orthodox. Adele made the sign of the cross and slid into the pew beside her sister. They sat on the bench, staring straight ahead at the altar and at the colourful icons of saints that lined the walls.

After a brief moment of silence, Mona said in a quiet voice, “We need to talk about Babba.”

Adele studied her sister’s face. The smile she had at the opening was now gone. Even the darkness from the clouds and low lights of the church couldn’t hide the sadness in her eyes, her sunken cheeks. “Babba’s very ill, Adele. I didn’t want to bring it up at your opening earlier. It would be just like Babba to ruin your show,” she laughed softly.

Adele didn’t laugh. “What’s wrong with him? The ulcer again?”

Mona shook her head, stared down at her hands on her lap. “It’s more serious. He has stomach cancer. The tumour has advanced to the point that it’s blocking the passage of food and that’s why he’s vomiting. He’s lost so much weight. He doesn’t look the same. The doctors say the prognosis isn’t good.”

“What does that mean?” Adele said, alarmed by the news.

“He’s dying. They give him a few weeks, a month at the most. The cancer is very advanced, very aggressive.”

“No,” Adele said, “No, no,” she said again, surprised by her breaking voice. Mona reached over, put her arm around Adele and pulled her close. Adele rested her head on Mona’s shoulder.

“Come home, Adele,” she whispered. “Come see Babba before…” Mona hesitated, wiping the tears from Adele’s face. “Come.” She lifted Adele’s head. She then clasped her hands together. “Come. Let’s pray.”

With her heart throbbing in her chest, Adele lowered her head, joined her hands and prayed for a man she had once wished was dead.

A few days later, she paced the living room of her apartment waiting for Mona to finish packing. She began to worry. What if things hadn’t changed? What if her father had remained the same? she wondered. She stopped pacing, stood still with her hands on her hips, stared outside; the sound of traffic began to float into the open window. Walking towards it, Adele leaned over and rested her hands on the windowsill. She spread her fingers and examined them as if the answer to her ‘what if’ questions rested in the lines of her knuckles. Suddenly she dropped her hands, swivelled and walked about the room. There had been a time, months ago, when she had imagined what it would be like to reunite with her father. She had devised various scenarios—him hugging her until she could no longer breathe, him slapping her until she was bruised or him being totally indifferent, walking about the house as if she had never left. She stood still and for a moment, she placed herself in her father’s worn shoes, felt the soft leather on her feet, the warmth left from him. Then she rubbed her face, flung herself on the sofa and began to cry. He was dying. The old man was dying! She had to set aside her anxieties, her fears. When Mona had finally emerged, suitcases in hand, the tears from Adele’s eyes had dissipated.

They hurried down the wooden stairs, the creaks echoing through the hallway. As they emerged from the old apartment house, a strong wind forced the suitcases in their hands to hit against their legs. The sisters quickened their pace, nearly slipping on the leaves still wet from the early morning downpour. When they reached Mona’s car, Adele leaned on the passenger side and watched the wind hurl other passersby as if urging them towards their destinies. Adele winked at a little child, her tiny fingers entwined with her mother’s. The girl shyly looked away, pulled on her mother’s arm and hurried her pace. The mother looked up at Adele and smiled, then explained, “She’s shy.”

“I was the same way. Still am,” Adele replied, light-heartedly. “Have a good day!”

“You too!” the little girl piped up. Then she tugged on her mother’s sleeve again. “See, Mom, I’m not shy!”

Turning away, Adele stared at Mona. She opened the trunk and carefully placed the suitcases inside. Then she walked over to the driver’s side. A smile rose from Adele’s full lips. Her eyes twinkled. “What?” Mona asked, playfully flipping back her layered hair. “Did the damn wind blow my hair out of place?”

Adele shook her head. “No.”

“Then why are you smiling so much?”

“I’m happy, that’s all. I’m so glad we’re sisters again.”

“We were always sisters, Adele,” Mona answered. “You just need to learn to pick up the phone more often. Better yet, get the internet. Email is the new form of letters.” She chuckled.

“You know I hate computers,” Adele grimaced.

“I know but you need to change that attitude.”

“Do I have to?” she whined.

“Yes, my dear Monkey. Get with the times. We’re no longer in the seventies.”

Laughing, the sisters slid into the car.