The tub of ice cream sweated patiently on the table. Mo and Fatima sat quietly for a change, their eyes glazed over as Ma waved a spoon before them. It was a cunning plan that Ma had. With any luck, the children would be hypnotized enough by the possibility of enjoying a bowl of the chocolate desert and, in exchange, Ma would find the answers she was looking for.
“You never tell me how much you love me,” she began, “and I want to know!” The blank looks on their faces accosted Ma, so she put a smidgen of space between her thumb and forefinger to proffer an answer. “This much?” she asked.
Mo smirked, thinking it a silly game. He nudged his sister, but Fatima was like her mother and considered the question first.
“Do you love me as much you love ice-cream?” Ma asked Fati, nudging her playfully too. Monkeying Mo managed to elicit a smile from her granddaughter, but that was it. Neither Mo nor Fati had taken the bait.
“Hmm!” Ma sighed. “If you don’t love me then I think I’ll put this ice-cream away,” she feigned seriousness.
“No!” Mo exclaimed. He promptly flung his little arms wide open when Ma asked again how much he loved her. “This much!” he yelled, and Ma pried open the lid of the ice-cream tub to tease him.
He was rewarded with a scoop of chocolate ice-cream, and Fatima instantly saw the game for what it was. She leapt off the sofa and ran all the way to the wall and back.
“I love you that much!” she exclaimed, slapping her hand on the sofa. It earned her two scoops in a bowl.
“She’s got more!” Mo complained, his own lips still dripping with chocolate.
“If you tell me what happened at home, I’ll give you another,” Ma bargained with him.
Mo didn’t even hear her. By the time Ma finished her sentence, his little legs had carried him out the living room.
“This much!” he yelled from somewhere down the passage and, when Mo returned, expecting to see another scoop of ice-cream in his bowl, a competitive spirit had overcome the children.
Not to be outdone, Fatima shouted that she loved Ma more than the whole wide world, and the siblings continued bickering until Ma was loved as much as the galaxy, solar system, and universe.
Ma sighed. There was no reasoning with those children when they were so excitable. She let her inquiry go unanswered while dishing out another scoop of ice cream for each. She hoped that a generous bribe would twist their little arms into telling her what she needed to know.
Anwar had arrived unexpectedly that afternoon to drop them off, which was unusual to begin with, and then abruptly excused himself and Amina for having an appointment later that evening. Before Ma could ask what time he’d be back to fetch the kids, Anwar was gone. Ma patiently helped the children finish their homework, eat their dinner, and put their pyjamas on, all the while wondering why they seemed to be in a such strange mood.
With the kids at their grandparents, and Anwar and Amina gone missing, Ma was certain something was going on at their home. She just didn’t have a clue as to what.
“Playing the devil’s advocate, were you?” Pa chuckled when Ma left the kids to their treat and joined him on the couch.
He wasn’t pleased though that Ma had riled them up so. Their yelling had completely destroyed his peace. The medication he took for his cancer had left him feeling woozy, and now there was no way he could sleep it off. With Ma, Pa watched the kids losing their minds, and wished that a bowl of ice-cream could solve adult troubles too.
The Ebrahim’s had demanded an inquest into the debacle at the engagement ceremony, and held Leila’s marriage to their son hostage until they received a satisfactory explanation. It was silly of them really, but everyone was now looking to Pa and Ma to rescue Leila’s marriage. How could they when neither Ma nor Pa knew whether the groom swallowing an insect was an accident or not?
“Anwar has been pushing Amina pretty hard about it,” Ma said.
“It’s a much bigger thing for him,” Pa said, “y’know, while Anwar and his brother are fighting the way they are.”
“That’s your fault!” Ma exclaimed, “you should’ve said something to those boys.”
“Ya-ya! …and now it’s out of control,” Pa finished her thought for her. It was an appeal actually, to not start that discussion with him right then.
“The whole family is under pressure,” Ma continued anyway, “they feel like they have to choose between Anwar and Brad.”
“Oh, ignore what everyone says! They’re just hedging their bets,” Pa argued, “Everyone always sides with the guy who gets the money.”
“It’s still tearing this family apart,” Ma replied.
“I built this family!” Pa cried so emphatically that he coughed. His chest wheezed while reassuring Ma that nothing would go wrong. It was just a matter of time before things settled again.
“There isn’t any time left!” Ma yelled, but then restrained herself as a tear welled-up in her eye.
Pa softened, and put his arm around her. It was difficult for him to face his own mortality too. Realistically, everyone had to go sometime. It was just a fact.
Pa’s imminent demise however was a problem looming over their household and, before Pa or Ma could rescue Leila’s marriage, some housekeeping was in order. Ma wasn’t concerned about financial trouble, but she did want to spend the time she had left with Pa in peace rather than in negotiations.
“Can’t Anwar and Brad just split the money?” she asked in desperation.
“A ‘waarso’ is more than just money,” Pa replied, “you know that.”
“All I know is that the stupid tradition is making enemies of brothers!” Ma grimaced.
“It’s tradition for a reason!” Pa exclaimed. “Someone has to take over the reins and lead the family. Together they can accomplish more than acting by themselves.”
As head of the family, he knew that the tradition of ‘waarso’ itself didn’t just mean doling out an inheritance. It implied an entire heritage, so an heir was someone who was also bequeathed Pa’s authority over the family. The family patriarch was seen as almost godly, and the trouble between Pa’s sons was then much more complicated than it looked. It could not be dismissed as an antiquated culture since entire lives and legacies were at stake. That required a sense of responsibility, and the best heir to a ‘waarso’ was a humble one.
“Well, Anwar is…” Ma said, choosing her words carefully, “a good man.”
“Do you think he’s lacking in leadership quality?” Pa asked.
“He’s my son, but I saw his face when it happened,” she remarked, “Anwar blames Amina for ruining Leila’s engagement.”
“Maybe she was at fault?” Pa wondered.
“Never!” Ma exclaimed. “Amina is nothing like that. Her standing at her husband’s side during this whole inheritance fight says that she values family. Leila is family, so Amina wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Amina’s not as innocent…,” Pa replied but stopped prematurely. It was too late though to curtail his thought.
“…as she looks?” Ma asked.
Her intuition told Ma that Pa knew something she didn’t. Ma pushed him to connect the dots in her mind. She already knew Anwar was adamant that he would lead the family far better than Brad ever could.
“Yes, he’s arrogant!” Pa cried.
Ma noted the disappointment in Pa’s voice and caressed his hand, but then her eyes opened to a cunning possibility. Anwar had lost all respect for his elder brother while feuding over the inheritance and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if Anwar tried to gain the upper hand somehow.
“Wait! Are you saying that Anwar forced Amina hand to put the insect in the sweetmeats tray and ruin the engagement?” she asked.