WOW. WHAT A rush.
“That was easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve mainlined John Hughes movies,” Reena said.
“I can’t stop smiling,” Marcia agreed. “I haven’t even met them all, but I feel like pinching their cheeks. That is one adorable barbershop quartet.”
Amira grinned. They really were adorable. All of them. “Let’s go find them.”
Reena, Marcia, and Amira fought through the crowd rushing the stage. They reached the stairs when Amira looked back to see Shirin and Tazim leaving. They weren’t even planning to say anything to Sameer. Amira pushed her disappointment aside—she only wanted to focus on Sameer and Travis’s happiness right now. She couldn’t let anything taint that. She rushed straight to Sameer and hugged him tighter than she had ever hugged anyone, and then she stepped back to look at him. He still had a goofy smile on his face, and there was a new ease in his posture, a visible weight removed from his shoulders. Travis was right—Sameer unburdened was a beautiful thing.
“You did it,” Amira said.
“I did.” He smiled. “No more secrets.”
Someone tackled her from behind and wrapped his arms around her. She turned her head to see Travis, and beside him was a striking woman with hair in shades of blue, purple, and green. His sister, Justine, Amira assumed.
“Sorry I stole your boyfriend, Amira.” Travis laughed, squeezing her.
“I’ll get over it. One day.” She grinned.
Justine suddenly giggled at her brother. “Now you’re Jolene.”
Travis let go of Amira and introduced Justine to everyone. Then Barrington introduced Marcia around. Travis stood behind Sameer, arms wrapped around his waist. He affectionately rested his chin on Sameer’s shoulder. Sameer held on to Travis hands and smiled.
“I can’t believe he did that. You must have been shocked,” Amira said to Travis, shaking her head.
“Well, sort of.” He laughed. “He kind of warned me. He took me aside right after our main numbers and asked if I would take him back if he told his grandmother and his entire family about me today. I said yeah, I probably would. But I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”
“But you didn’t know about the song?”
“No, I thought Duncan was going to sing something, not Sameer. I can’t believe he did that in front of the audience.” He kissed Sameer’s cheek. “The three of them planned it last night while we were watching the terrible ballet movie.”
“That awful movie ended up being good for something,” Amira said. “My Hindi’s not great, what did that song mean?” She was used to subtitles in her Bollywood movies.
Sameer’s cheeks tinged with pink while he translated. “While singing alone in the moonlight, your voice came from the mountains, washed in sunlight. Without your song, even my loneliness is no longer my own.” He giggled nervously. “Or something like that . . . it’s from a Bollywood movie.”
“Mere Dil Ki Awaaz,” Reena added. “I love that movie. Super romantic.”
“Ooh, let’s watch it when we get home. And sing the whole thing to me later, okay, babe?” Travis said as Sameer blushed. “I’m still in shock. Sameer? Planning a spectacle like that?” He kissed Sameer’s cheek again.
“Why the spectacle?” Justine asked. “Good thing I was here to see it. No one back home will believe this. It’s so completely unlike you.”
Sameer looked at Travis’s face affectionately. “Travis deserves it. After what I’ve put him through, he deserved to hear me say I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him sung from the top of the CN Tower. I’m taking control of my own gossip. Let them try to beat this.” His smile waned just a bit. “Did you see my grandmother?”
“I’m sorry, Sameer. I think she left,” Amira said.
Travis squeezed a bit tighter. “It’s okay, babe.”
“I know,” Sameer said. “It’ll be fine. If they can’t accept me, then . . . it’s fine. Travis has enough family to go around. And I have these guys . . .” He turned and smiled at Barrington, whose arm was around Marcia’s waist. Barrington grinned and gave Sameer a thumbs-up.
Someone was missing from this little family. The person Sameer had called the glue that held them together. Amira bit her lip, saying nothing about their missing baritone.
“Where did you get your ridiculous new name? The A-Team?” Reena asked.
“It’s for you.” Sameer smiled at Amira.
“For me?”
Travis laughed. “Yeah, Amira’s Team. We were trying to think of a name a few days ago and got stuck on trying to think of something with our first initials.”
Barrington chimed in. “And with the rest of the guys’ names spelling out STD . . . well, we needed to add you.”
Travis grinned. “You’ve been there since we first came together, and we felt like you were really a member of our group.”
“We were almost going with Amira’s Boys, but Barry thought of the A-Team,” Sameer added.
“I’m going to get some gold chains for our next show. Beats spandex and sequins,” Barrington said matter-of-factly.
Amira laughed as her chest swelled with pride. These were her guys. It was humbling to be considered one of their team.
A firm hand tapping her shoulder startled her. She stilled. She knew it was Duncan. Her heart started racing.
“Hi,” he said when she turned around. There was that unfamiliar expression again. Uneasy. Hurt. She hated it on him.
“Congratulations,” Amira said.
“Thanks. Third place isn’t so bad . . .” He ran his hand over his beard. “Um, can we talk? My brother wants to apologize to you. He’s waiting by my truck.”
Amira looked at Duncan. Really looked at him. He looked almost the same as the day she first saw him. Plaid shirt. Suspenders. Bright-red beard and the greenest eyes she had ever seen. The confident swagger had lessened, but he was still the same man she’d dismissed when he walked down that train aisle. Two weeks wasn’t enough time to develop such strong feelings, either positive or negative, for anyone, but Amira wasn’t one to bullshit herself. She had developed strong feelings for him. She might just be in love with him.
Ryan wanted to apologize to her. No doubt Duncan gave him an earful about what Maddie had done to Zahra. He didn’t believe the same things as his brother, and he was trying hard with his niece. She looked at Duncan’s face. He was a good man, she had to believe that.
She would listen to him, and to his brother. She owed him that much. She wasn’t about to do this alone, though. “Okay. Reena comes, too.”
Duncan looked like he was going to object, but Amira raised one eyebrow, daring him to. “Fine.”
The blue skies and bright sun outside bathed Amira in a warmth that should have relaxed her muscles as they walked. But in reality, she had never felt more knots in her shoulders as she followed Duncan across the parking lot towards an enormous black pickup truck. Her heart was beating too fast, her hands were sweaty, and all she wanted to do was scream fuck you to the man she could see leaning against the truck, looking at his phone. But for the sake of the larger man with the tense back who she was following, she wouldn’t. She would hear Ryan’s apology.
“Ryan, you remember Amira Khan. And this is Amira’s friend, Reena.”
“Pleasure to see you again,” Ryan drawled. Even his voice sounded like Duncan’s. It was disconcerting. He was like the anti–Duncan Galahad. The evil one.
Amira nodded.
“I owe you an apology,” Ryan started. “I heard about the texts Maddie sent your sister. I’m sorry it upset her.”
“You didn’t know your daughter texted that stuff to her?” Amira asked.
“Nah, I didn’t even know they were texting each other. But kids, you know how it is. The things they pick up at school. Maddie didn’t mean any offence.”
“She called my sister a terrorist. I’m thinking she did mean offence,” Amira said.
Ryan’s posture stiffened. “She’s just a kid. You have to remember, we live in a small town. There’s not a lot of different kinds of people at Maddie’s school, and you know how kids talk.”
“I also know how adults talk,” Amira said.
“And I’ve seen your Twitter account,” Reena added. “All your ‘Canadian values,’ and ‘immigrants are destroying the country’ bullshit. You’re an online troll. Actually, a white supremacist.”
Ryan’s nostrils flared at Reena before turning back to Amira. “Well, I didn’t mean you specifically. Anyway, Duncan here told me how he’s gotten to know you and your family, and you’re not like the others . . . so, I’m sorry we offended you. I think if we take the time to get to know each other, maybe I’ll see things different.” He looked at his brother before turning back to Amira. “Forgive me?”
That was a terrible apology, but at least he looked sincere. Like his brother, there was something honest about Ryan Galahad. The kind of man who told his own truths, no-holds-barred. Not hiding behind masks or false manners. Not altering his behaviour to suit the others around him, ever.
Because he never really had to.
Amira looked him right in the eye. “I’m going to be straight with you, Ryan. I’m glad you apologized, even though that wasn’t the best apology. I’m not sure you’ve figured out what a raging asshole you are, but at least you tried. It took your brother getting close to a Muslim for you to realize we are people, and for your daughter’s sake, I’m glad you figured that out. But no, I don’t forgive you. You said I’m not like the others? Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. I am exactly like the others. My parents are immigrants. I am a Muslim. I may not be very devout, but I’m a believer. I am exactly who you say is destroying the country. And now you want to get to know me? Sorry, but I don’t have any intention of wasting my time with someone so he can learn not to be a racist dick. Read a fucking book for your education, bud.”
Ryan’s teeth clenched. He looked to Duncan, whose expression was harder to read. “I said I was sorry,” Ryan finally said. “I feel bad, and I’m trying to make amends, and now you’re calling me an asshole? What is it you want from me, lady?”
Amira stood taller. “I don’t want anything from you. You’re the one who wants something from me. You want forgiveness, so you can feel better about yourself. And now I’m the villain because I won’t grant it to you? You wronged us. You and your irrational hatred hurt my sister in a way she’ll never forget. She felt betrayed beyond belief when her new friend abandoned her and called her horrific names. You have a daughter that age, you know how fragile their self-worth is. How hard they want to fit in. You taught my sister that, no matter how sweet she is, no matter how many late-night texts she sends her friends gushing about ballet movies, there will always be people who won’t respect her because of her religion, her skin, or her culture, and who won’t see the awesome kid she is. And by the way, Zahra’s awesomeness is partly because of her religion, her culture, and her skin. Not in spite of it. I don’t want your apology. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than words to make amends for what you are doing to us.” She turned and started to walk away.
“Amira, wait,” Duncan called after her.
Pausing, Amira turned back to them. As they stood next to each other, all Amira could see was how similar Duncan and Ryan looked. Similar eyes. Similar facial shape. Similar posture. Cut from the same cloth? She had thought Duncan different from his family, but as he himself told her once, the small-town gentleman he was raised to be would always be in there.
A relationship with Duncan would mean connections and family contact. Birthday parties and weddings. Friday dinners and holidays. What would Duncan say if his family made towel-head jokes at the dinner table? Or if they started spewing nonsense against immigration or the country’s welcoming of refugees? What would he say to his family if they hurt Zahra again? Would he be loyal to his family, or to her? Or both?
Duncan would support her. He would stand up for her, and insist they apologize to her, like he probably insisted Ryan apologize today. He would smooth everything out, hoping everyone would be civil to each other. And it would happen again. And there would be tension, and family fights, and avoidance. And she could never be herself around them. She would always be censuring herself, worried about confirming their preconceptions about her. And she would resent Duncan for it.
“And you know what the worst part is?” she said before either of the brothers could speak. “I believe you. I believe you both feel bad about upsetting Zahra. Even though you are terrible at apologizing, Ryan, you’re not lying; you meant that apology. You know how I know that? Because I know Duncan, and what you see is what you get. I don’t know you, Ryan, but I suspect you’re the same way. You’re both unapologetically yourselves. And that is a privilege people like me don’t have. We’re always hiding behind masks, trying to fit ourselves to what people like you think we should be. I don’t have the luxury to be outraged. Because if I act like the outspoken bitch that Duncan knows I am, I’m the one in the wrong. I’m the villain. The angry Muslim, disenfranchised enough to join a terror cell. I’m done with this shit. I’m not what’s wrong with this country, Ryan, you are. Let’s go, Reena.” This time she really walked away, and neither Galahad brother tried to stop her. Good.