THREE WEEKS LATER.
There were few people in the world Amira would brave a Toronto cocktail bar on a Friday night for, but when she got an unexpected text that her favourite recently engaged couple would be at one, she happily took the subway downtown after Friday night dinner with her family. Arriving at the dim, painfully trendy place a little after eight, she weaved through the crowd and found Sameer and Travis cozied up on one side of a booth near the back. She hadn’t seen them since the day after the barbershop quartet competition, and she missed them more than she would have thought.
“Amira! There you are! Come sit!” Travis beamed, getting up to hug her before sitting back down beside Sameer with a grin. They both had complicated-looking drinks in front of them. She assumed each had way too many ingredients and was described with words like infused with or derived from. She ordered a microbrew instead, happy the beer list was as impressive as the cocktail list.
“What are you guys doing in Toronto?” Amira asked after ordering.
Sameer smiled. “Long story. Short version is, remember Fourth Fret?”
“Yeah, the group who won the competition.”
“Yup. They had a gig booked at the busker festival downtown on Sunday, but two of them got bronchitis. They asked us to help fill in.”
“Oh wow! I’ll bring Zahra to see you, she’d love it. But you came all the way from Ottawa for just this one gig?”
“I needed to make a trip here anyway,” Sameer said. “It’s time I talked to my grandmother.”
“Shit. Really?”
Travis smiled. “Most of his family have been really supportive.”
“I had some long-distance heart-to-heart chats,” Sameer added, “and, yeah, they’ve been good. We’re staying at my Tazim aunty’s place this weekend.”
“But you haven’t spoken to your grandmother?”
“No, not since the barbershop competition,” Sameer said. “The family has tried, but she’s a stubborn old bird. She’s blaming my mother, the fact that I didn’t have a father, and all sorts of crap. My mum begged her to see me; we’re going over there tomorrow.” He took Travis’s hand.
Amira blew out a puff of air. In contrast, things had been quiet on the homophobe front at her home for the last few weeks. Nanima hadn’t mentioned the argument with Mum and Amira, no doubt learning that fighting that fight would go nowhere. And Mum still hadn’t told anyone else about Laura. Everyone was carrying on like normal.
It wouldn’t last. Mum would tell Nanima soon. To prepare for that, Amira had taken over a lot of the child-care duties that Nanima normally did—easy since she had no job. And Mum had requested a more stable work schedule, so she wouldn’t have to rely on others as much. Amira had actually spent a lot of time with Zahra and Mum lately, and she felt closer to her mother than she’d ever been. Mum had even introduced her to Laura.
But she’d seen little of her grandmother. She wasn’t sure who was avoiding whom, but Amira was sad about the change. She still held out hope that Nanima would take it well when Mum told her about Laura, but Amira was also mourning the loss of a relationship that had meant so much to her for so long.
Her family was teetering on the edge of a sharp chasm and things were about to change drastically. No one knew which way the wind would blow, but Mum and Amira were preparing their parachutes in case they had to jump.
As if Sameer could see what Amira was thinking about, he nodded to her. “How are things holding up in your house?”
“Same.” She smiled.
“You know,” Sameer continued, “my mum has rekindled her friendship with your mother. They had a long talk on the phone the other day.”
Amira tilted her head. How much did Sameer know about her recent family drama?
“She told me some things . . . some gossip about when they were young. Apparently, your mother was a good friend to my mum when she got pregnant . . . unwed. And my mother helped yours through some drama when they were teenagers.”
Maybe Sameer did know about her mother’s past, and maybe even her present. It didn’t matter. Of all people, he would be discreet. “Crazy. I didn’t realize they were that close. Funny to think of our families having full, interesting lives before we came along.”
Sameer laughed. “I know. I can’t even imagine my mum in the eighties. Anyway, she told me to tell you that you, your mother, and your sister have an open invitation to visit her in Ottawa anytime. She even dug up a picture of you and me together when I was a baby.” He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it a bit. Amira’s text tone rang and she saw that Sameer had texted her the photo.
It was a shot of Amira at about five years old, holding a bundled baby in her arms. This was obviously the picture Nanima had told her about, but what surprised Amira was that seeing it now brought a torrential wave of memories to the surface. She remembered the moment in vivid detail. Her mother had taken her to a friend’s house to see a new baby who had been born, and they had let Amira hold him. It was the first time Amira had ever held a baby, and it was love at first sight. His skinny little legs and tiny fingers and frowning mouth. She remembered being overcome with feelings of protectiveness for the baby.
Her mother had made some comments about Amira one day having a brother or sister of her own, but Amira hadn’t wanted that. She told her mother she wanted to love and take care of this baby, not any other. She was clearly an overly dramatic child.
Amira also remembered something else. There was secrecy around the visit. They weren’t living with Nanima then, but Mum told her not to tell Nanima they were going to see the baby. And there were hushed voices behind Amira as she snuggled baby Sameer, staring at his scrunched-up face and humming gently to soothe him. Maybe she had sensed the drama surrounding Sameer’s birth and wanted to shelter him from it. She knew that, not long after, Sameer’s mother left Toronto with her son, starting a new life away from the judgments of her family and community.
Amira looked up at adult Sameer, eyes stinging as she put her phone down. “I remember this. I was so in love with you then. I begged my mother to let me keep you.”
Travis beamed as he kissed the side of Sameer’s head. “He is rather lovable. But I’m keeping him. Sorry.”
Amira smiled as she sipped her beer. “Do you think your grandmother will ever come around?”
Sameer shrugged. “Maybe she will. I don’t know, but I have to try. I hate that there’s this great rift in the family because of me. I can’t start a married life with Travis without trying to smooth it out.”
“Family is important,” Travis added. “We have to show them love is better than hiding.”
“Yes,” Sameer said with a grin. “And even if my grandmother doesn’t accept this relationship, I’m not going to let that stand in my way anymore. They’ll only learn to accept our love if we show them love. Right, Amira?”
Amira wasn’t too dense to get what the guys were implying. They were talking about Duncan, of course, and the implosion of their relationship because of his family. She couldn’t expect to have drinks with these two without someone bringing the garden gnome to the front of her mind. To tell the annoying truth, she hadn’t been able to do much lately without their maddening baritone occupying most of the space in her brain. He was aggravating her more out of sight than he ever had when he’d been around. And that said a lot, because for a time, no one aggravated her as much as Duncan Galahad.
“Have you spoken to him?” she asked, not needing to reveal who she meant.
“Yeah,” Travis said. “Lots. He feels terrible about what happened.”
Amira dug her fingernail into the cardboard coaster under her drink. She didn’t want to talk about Duncan. She bit her lip.
Travis smiled sympathetically, understanding this was a topic Amira wasn’t ready for. “When are you going back to work?” he asked, not realizing that was another topic Amira wasn’t keen on discussing.
She paused, then smiled sadly. “I’m not. I resigned.”
Sameer looked at her. “Crap. Really? Because of your mentor?”
“Yes, in part. Let’s just say I’m not interested in ass-kissing to try and weasel my way into a club that wouldn’t let me in anyway. Hyde is more toxic than it used to be.”
Travis wrinkled his nose. “So, you just up and quit?”
She nodded. “Maybe it’s time for a fresh start. A new Amira.”
“That’s big, though,” Sameer said. “What will you do now?”
Amira smiled. “I’ll be okay. I have an amazing letter of recommendation from my professor and she had some job leads for me. I have an interview next week with a friend of my dad’s who owns a small consulting firm that specializes in noise control. And I’ve applied to a lot of jobs at manufacturing plants outside Toronto.”
“You’d leave the city?” Travis asked.
Amira shrugged. “I’m thinking about it. It’s a good time for a change. Things are kind of unsettled at home, maybe it’s time to move out. But I can’t afford to live alone in Toronto.” She cringed. “I’m not sure roommates are a great idea. I’ve applied for positions in Waterloo, Windsor, and Peterborough.”
Sameer raised his eyebrows. “Peterborough?”
Amira reddened. “I know Duncan lives near there, but that’s not why I applied. It’s a good job . . .”
“Still, though,” Sameer said, glancing at Travis.
Travis only smiled. “He’ll be here Sunday,” he added.
That wasn’t a surprise. Why wouldn’t Duncan drive an hour and a half into the city to see his friends sing? Loyalty . . . that was his thing.
Amira poked another hole in the cardboard coaster. She wasn’t sure she was ready to see him again. Eventually, their paths would have to cross if she was going to stay friends with Sameer and Travis, but she wished she could have more time to figure out her life first. Things had already been so emotionally intense lately with the work and family crap going on, but even through all that, Duncan-fucking-Galahad was never far from the front of her conscious mind. It shouldn’t have been that way. Duncan should have been nothing but a memory.
Amira had met with Professor Kennedy on schedule a week after she submitted the report and quite literally dropped to her knees with relief when her professor said it was accepted and granted her the credits. She still had bruises after that less-than-intelligent reaction. She chatted briefly with her professor about having quit her job and why. And while Professor Kennedy didn’t flat-out tell Amira that she had done the right thing, she did give sage advice about watching your own back as a woman in the industry and avoiding situations where you didn’t have someone on your side. Professor Kennedy said she would be happy to look out for appropriate opportunities for Amira and give her any references she needed. “Women in STEM need to stick together,” Professor Kennedy had said with a smile.
Her convocation ceremony was next week, when she would proudly accept her master’s degree in front of both her parents, her sister, and her grandmother. Amira had done it. She’d finished graduate school and she was so proud of herself. But predictably, Amira wasn’t happy. Also predictably, she was utterly furious about that.
How the hell had someone like Duncan Galahad—a garden gnome, a snarky, overprotective, white-knighting bearded wonder—wormed his way so deep under her skin that she couldn’t enjoy reaching a milestone she had worked so hard for? He and his xenophobic family had stolen her joy.
Xenophobic was the worst name she allowed herself to call Ryan in her inner dialogue since the competition, and that had been a challenge. Her choice thoughts about him on the days immediately after seeing him would have made a longshoreman blush.
No. She was bigger than him. Better. She wouldn’t resort to name-calling, even in her head. She had no doubt that Ryan called her every name in that blushing longshoreman’s dictionary, though, and she didn’t care one dime about that.
But wondering what Duncan thought of her stole too many of the hours when she should have been sleeping each night, leaving her groggy in the morning and short-tempered during the day. Did he think she was out of line for yelling at his brother? Did he see her point of view at all? Had she explained why she was upset clearly enough to make him get it?
And now she would have to see him again in two days while she was still spinning from their last encounter. She’d have liked to have waited until she could get through a day without thinking about him. Screw a day, she would be happy with an hour.
“The whole A-Team will be singing together again. In person,” Travis said.
“I thought you said only two members of Fourth Fret were sick?”
“Yeah, but they asked all four of us to join them. We will be the rare barbershop sextet.”
Amira wrinkled her nose. “Sextet? That’s terrible. Sounds kinky.”
Travis laughed. “Yeah, I can see why they normally keep to four in a barbershop group. Still going to come?”
Amira looked down at the mutilated remains of the cardboard coaster. She raked the mound of shredded paper over the wood of the table, making a small pile of red and white while thinking about what to do. It wasn’t just herself she had to consider, but Zahra, too. She hadn’t mentioned Maddie or Duncan once since the guys left, but Amira knew her sister. Zahra also hadn’t said anything about ballet and she even shot down her mother’s offer of signing her up for a ballet class next year. Zahra wasn’t over her new friend’s betrayal.
“You two won’t be able to avoid each other forever,” Travis said. “We’re going to have a huge wedding and we want both of you in the wedding party.”
“What? But I’ve only known you for, like, what, a month? I can’t be in your wedding party!”
Sameer laughed. “We used to hang out when I was a baby, remember? And anyway, we wouldn’t be engaged if it wasn’t for you. That day before the competition, when you told off Duncan . . . you inspired me. By not coming out and living the life I wanted to live, I was excusing all of them. That night, I thought to myself, What would Amira do? And I came up with the song idea. You don’t know how much you helped me.” He grinned.
Amira frowned. “I wouldn’t have done that. I have a terrible singing voice! And stage fright.”
He laughed. “Fine. Will you be my grooms-maid anyway?”
“Is that a thing? Grooms-maid?”
“Travis gets to have one: Justine. So I get one, too. Right now we’re fighting over who gets Barry and who gets Duncan.”
“I’m thinking we’ll play musical attendants. They can switch sides for every picture,” Travis said.
Amira gave them a pointed look. “Also, musical because you’re making the wedding party sing, right?”
Travis nodded. “You’d better believe it.”
She frowned. “You guys really want to have a big wedding?”
“Yup. Huge.” Travis smiled. “We know everyone in Ottawa, and we both have enormous extended families. We’re going to invite all of them. Let them decide if they want to show up, but we’re not hiding anything. Like I said to you earlier, we’re going to normalize this shit.”
Amira smiled. “Well, I’d be honoured to be included. Even if I have to march down the aisle with the garden gnome himself.” She paused. “I’ll need vocal lessons.”
Travis smiled. “I know a music teacher. Will you come Sunday?”
“You really want me to come that much?”
“Yes, of course!” Travis groaned. “We’re Amira’s team, remember?”
“We didn’t have to tell you Duncan was coming,” Sameer added. “We could have lied to get you to see him.”
“But you didn’t,” Amira said.
“No,” Sameer said. “He wants to see you, Amira. He wants to talk to you about what happened. I’m not excusing him, but I think you need to hear what he has to say. There’s more to this than you know.”
She sighed. She couldn’t avoid him forever. And maybe this was the best place to get the damn meeting over with—in public and with her friends. If she wanted to avoid Zahra hearing the conversation, she could get one of the guys to hang out with her for a bit.
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll come. Tell your garden gnome I’ll see him at the busker festival.”