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With eighty-six billion neurons, the human brain is the most complex system on earth, and its synapses are as infinite as the star maps of the universe. It works really well—until you fall in love. I know, because it happened to me. Flying back from San Francisco, stretched out in the über-luxurious leather seats of the jet, all I did was think about Kyle. My spaced-out brain was stuck on animated GIFs of our time together.
At the Ann Arbor airport, a limo and driver waited for me and I discovered Tomato had already been picked up from the Detroit Airport and driven to my place. Kyle must have a fleet of invisible, efficient creatures working for him. If the devil lay in the details, then Kyle Paxton was my devil. When the plane landed, I saw twenty texts from him. They were ordinary, utterly lacking in punctuation and had the emotional value of a dry bagel—but to me they were John Donne’s sonnets of love.
how was the flight
I miss you already
cant wait to see you again
cant wait to have you in my arms again
I hope its cold, junebug
think of me and get all hot
too bad I’m not there to warm you up
As the limo drove me home, I texted back.
The flight was astonishing luxury.
Thank you.
Sir, I would like you to warm me up.
Not in the way you suggest, but to stop hypothermia.
It’s 17 degrees here, not 70.
I miss you lots and lots.
Thinking only of the hour when I will see you again.
He responded immediately, and we texted like lovesick teenagers.
When I got back home, Cypress was thrilled and so was Mom—in her understated way. I came bearing gifts and Cypress opened all his goodies instantly. As much as I missed Kyle, it was good to be home. That night was the first time since I met him that I fell into a deep cycle of relaxed sleep, my worries laid to rest at last. Though Kyle did not love me (and maybe he wasn’t capable of it), I knew he was as hooked as I was.
Things changed after my trip. I unraveled—in a good way. The load on my chest was gone. I was lighter. Happier. The week was a breeze for me, but it was not so for the others. After the sunny skies of California, the gray of Ann Arbor had Trevor and Stacy in the dumps. On top of that, our workload was heavy. On the warpath about Christmas deadlines, Walrus bore down hard on us all. The construction of the museum had begun, and it was a zoo with the construction crew, holiday tourists, kids on field trips, and lecture guests in our way as we tried to work.
It was mid-December and Ann Arbor was in the midst of an ugly winter. The wind was harsh, the very air in our lungs hostile, the sky overcast, and the snow endless. I shrugged it all off with a smile. To me, the leaden sky was cheery, the air looked spangled, the muddy snowbanks were melted art, and the backed-up traffic was a chance to dance to the music in my car.
I was a dust particle floating in the air.
On Wednesday, I drove to Detroit and met Adam and Sayed at the Leen Foundation. The meeting ended with a big pledge for the Arab exhibit at the museum. I left with my head in the clouds and walked in the falling snow to the Henry Ford Hospital, where Lila was a hospitalist.
She was busy and had me wait in her office. In breaks between emergencies—fever-ridden babies, anaphylactic reactions, hypochondriacs seeking placebos, and even a gunshot wound—she came to chat with me. Her wedding date had been finalized and she was excited as she babbled on about her plans. As her maid of honor, I took detailed notes of her grand, glam and glorious ideas. I drew the line at a hot air balloon entry for her while Sam waited on a white horse at the reception hall.
After she was done with work, we went down to the hospital cafeteria. The minute we set food trays down, she leaned close to me, eyes wild with excitement. “Can’t wait to hear about your exploits in Silicon Valley.”
“More like the Bay Area tech sector. The museum training was—”
“Shut up.” Lila planted her elbows on the pistachio plastic table. “No museum or tech blah blah, just wanna know about Mr. Precious Perfect. The guy who wants to get in yer panties.”
“Okay, turns out...he’s deeper than that.” I gave her a detailed account of my trip and she listened in fascination.
When I was done, she said, “Wow, so much drama. Wish I’d been there to see you dance at the club. You never could handle alcohol, you know. And it seems Kyle can’t handle you. Maybe, I misjudged him. He seems...acceptable.”
“Since Kyle and I talked things have been good. I’m happy. He’s...everything to me already.”
Eyes downcast, Lila lathered sour cream on her baked potato and sprinkled uniform amounts of spices, chives and parsley on it. She took a big bite and mumbled, “Juniper, isn’t that too soon? I mean it took Sam two months to talk to me, six months to ask me out and a year before he proposed.”
“Well, Kyle is more of a hawk than a snail. He’s a Concord jet, not a train.”
“So my Sam is a snail-train?” she asked with a miffed glance.
I chuckled. “Sorry, I wasn’t talking about Sam. At all. I get it. You’re just worried about me. I’m worried too.”
“About?”
“That...I’ll be a letdown once we’re intimate. I have zero experience and Kyle’s like god’s gift to supermodels.”
Lila frowned and tilted her head. “Gift? What’s up with men not being manwhore-shamed? Why do only women get slut-shamed? Don’t you hate our double standards? I’m gonna raise my kids with no gender limits.”
“Are you done, future mom-of-the-century? As I was saying...will I be a letdown when we’re intimate? Once my novelty wears off, will he feel stuck?”
“Hey, you’re not a vintage toy box, okay? And he’s totally taken by you. I don’t blame him. You’re spec-ta-cu-lar. I’m worried about you, not him. For a decade, you have zero interest in any guy and now you’re fixated on this bad boy.”
“Me wants Kyle. No one else,” I said with a moue of petulance.
“Have you ever considered you may want him because...he is exactly the type of man your mother raised you stay away from?”
“Hmm. Maybe. But I like him for him, not for the thrill of it.”
“Look, I’ve always wanted to see my Junie with a man who deserves her. But, sweetie, a relationship is more than just physical stuff. If a couple only has sex in common, are they even a couple? And what are the chances of them lasting?”
I sighed, picked up my spoon and used it to ladle the froth off my latte. Then I put the spoon to my lips and blew on it and let it slide back. The froth ebbed and flowed as I sorted out my thoughts. “Kyle doesn’t want us to last and I’m resigned to that. It’s not just physical, though. It’s more.”
“More what? Sex?”
“If that was all...he would not have been so restrained with me this weekend.”
Lila tapped the table with a purple pedicured nail. Loud and fast. It was her stress tell and I drew my hand back. “Juniper. You were confused before you left and, hey presto, now he’s your BAE. All I’m saying is, don’t you think you got too involved, too soon?”
“Well, he has me on a time limit. Gotta move fast. I guess I’ll be with him for a few months and then just let him go. Don’t have a choice. I mean, the guy’s such a commitment-phobe. The word relationship is not in his vocabulary. Thinks marriage is a joke. Doesn’t even believe in love.”
“Modern. Dating. Is. A. Hell. Hole,” Lila remarked, her thick arched black brows raised. “I just don’t get it anymore. It’s so confusing. Like a game with no rules.”
“Yeah. And no one tells you how shitty relationships are.”
“Um. Hello, didn’t your momma raise you to hate relationships and men?”
“Well, I guess...Mom just focused on how shitty men are.”
“Maybe that’s why you and I are such good friends. We had parents who didn’t want us to date.”
“All those school dances as the token single gals,” I said with a giggle.
“Good times.”
I put the spoon back in the latte and spun it around until a little foam tornado grew. Taking a slurp of foam, I said, “Oh God, Lila, I want Kyle so bad, but I’m also scared he’ll hurt me. Why do we always run after things that can destroy us?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you to proceed with caution. But I think relationships can be the best thing in your life too.” She dipped her tea bag in the hot water cup. Reaching for a spoon, she ripped four sugar packets and poured them in her cup. “Moroccan mint. Yum.” She took a sip and put her steaming cup under my nose. “You wanna try?”
I inched away from the hot cup and wilted back in my chair. “No, I’m good. I know you believe in marriage and settling down and traditions like kids and family. But that’s not what I believe in.”
Lila looked at me for a long second and shrugged. “I know I was brainwashed by my traditional Lebanese parents to think this way. But you know my parents are like revolting star-crossed lovers who got married. Seeing them so Disney happy, all I ever wanted was a great romance and a happy ending.”
That made me pause. “I’m a relationship kind of person too, but I don’t know if I’d ever go as far as marriage. I haven’t seen the merits of marriage to convince me otherwise.”
“I get that it’s hard but there’s something beautiful about the singularity and intensity of two people only living for each other,” Lila said with a dreamy smile.
“There’s also something ugly about the singularity and intensity of two people divorcing and hating each other. Or running away from someone after conceiving twins with him.”
“I know you had it bad. And it’s chaos out there these days. I think the old dating system got messed up by online dating. Everyone thinks that potential partners are out there...like an endless box of chocolates. It’s like shopping for stuff online. Swipe, swipe, swipe and maybe the next thing is better. And then you end up in one meaningless fling after another.”
“People are still the same, Lila. The problem is women always get screwed by whatever new system comes along, because men only want one thing,” I said, with a bitter smile. “Flings, flings, flings with as little responsibility and relationship crap as possible. And women better line up or else they are culture-shamed.”
“So then why are you with Kyle?”
“With Kyle...despite all of his hang-ups, I really want to be with him. No matter what. You’re going to kick my butt...but I’m falling for him, truly falling...” I stopped, took a swig of coffee and a huge bite of my gingerbread. “Oh wow. This is delicious for hospital food.”
“Junie. Junie. Pace yourself. With Kyle, not the gingerbread.”
“I know I should. I can’t. I can’t help falling for him. Lila, I’m going mad.” I put down my coffee cup with a clatter and leaned closer to her, my elbows propped on the table. “I need a shrink. Can’t work. Can’t sleep. I can’t get his face out of my mind. When he smiles, it’s like a million puppies giving me a hug.”
When he goes, he takes the oxygen with him.
No wonder he makes girls sign termination contracts. They probably never want to leave the enchanted Bermuda Triangle of his presence.
“Oh my God.” Lila made a gagging sound. “You’ve got it bad. So bad.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I think...no, I am sure it’s love.”
“Is it? I wouldn’t call it love. More like voodoo. You look—”
“Spellbound?” I opened one eye.
“I was gonna say possessed.”
“By love?”
“No. By a jinn.”
“Really, is that how crazy I sound?”
“Yep.” She nodded soberly. “You need an exorcism, not a shrink.”
“I should just rip him off like a Band-Aid.”
“You’re not gonna do that are you?” she asked with a sigh.
“Not even close. Hey, I have a huge favor to ask you.”
“What is it?”
Eyes gleaming, I leaned forward.
Kyle texted me different options for our weekend together. He suggested fancy hotels in Chicago. Classy places in Detroit. Flying me to New York. Considering who lived there, I hated that idea. Then he suggested a ton of luxury getaways. I said no and we texted back and forth.
Me: Can you leave the weekend plans to me?
Kyle: a big bag of nopes
Me: Why?
Kyle: i’m a merciless planner. it’ll kill me if i leave things in your hands
Me: Then I can’t meet you this weekend.
Kyle: (lots of angry emojis) i’ll kidnap ya then
Me: Real mature. I’ll run away.
Kyle: i will find you
Me: I’ll vanish into thin air...
Kyle: i’ll find you in molecule shifts
Me: OK, Molecule Stalker. Submit one weekend to me.
Kyle: one weekend to you...submit life to me
Me: OK, Genghis Khan. BTW your punctuation sucks.
Kyle: college dropout ‘member? what are you planning little girl
Me: A surprise.
Kyle: hate surprises...clockwork mind ring bells?
Me: Lord Kyle, Deal with it.
Your grammar sucks, too.
Sincerely, Your Wench
Kyle: fine...one weekend. this will be hardest thing ive done aside from making you mine
Me: Am I really yours? And are you really mine?
Kyle: baby, you have me by my kidneys
I stared at the “kidney” text for a long time. It was everything. We went on texting like that for the whole week. It helped fill the ache, the void I felt when I was away from him.
With Lila’s help, I planned the perfect weekend getaway. The plans fell short of the luxurious lifestyle Kyle was used to, but I hoped he was human enough to enjoy them. It grated on me that I needed to talk to Mom and Cypress about my weekend expeditions. It was going to be an awkward talk because Cypress never had to compete with anybody for my attention.
I was conflicted.
On Thursday, I got home with a guilt-ridden heart. Once we ate dinner, Cypress cleaned the dishes and disappeared into his room. Mom started watching TV and I paced behind the couch until she paused her show and asked me what was wrong. Standing in between her and the TV, I blurted out that I was dating someone. At first, she was visibly stunned and asked who it was. I told her I needed to be more certain of my relationship first. She asked if she could meet him and I told her absolutely not.
Hearing the resolve in my voice, her face slipped back into an impassive mask and she said, “Well, I’m happy for you. I hope one day you can feel certain enough to introduce us.” Then she went back to watching The Bachelor.
All of a sudden, I had an errant thought. I sat down next to her and she gave me a look of surprise. I picked up the remote and put the TV on pause again. “Mom, can I ask you something?”
She gave me a guarded look. “Yes.”
“Look, I know you hate talking about your past...but I really need to know this. The man you...I mean...the guy who was my father...did you love him?”
She started twisting the knotted tassel border of the afghan on her lap. From the mulish set of her jaw, I thought she would not respond, but then she looked up. “Yes, I did.”
Oh wow. “That’s cool,” I said, my voice casual so she could not see the jumping jelly beans inside me.
“Yes.” She had a faraway look in her eyes and a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I did. I really did love him.”
I tried not to show emotion on my face but this was sensational. This was the first time in my life that my mom had ever given me so much as a crumb about my father. This meant he wasn’t just any one of the men she had been with. She knew who he was. And just like that, the random mass of sperms I always thought of as my cause-of-birth cleared up from my mind and an image was formed there—of a specific man. A man my mother had loved. “And did he love you?”
She nodded. “Very much.”
“So then...why did you leave him?”
Her face fell and she looked away. “Circumstances. Things...happened.”
I knew if I asked the more intrusive questions on the tip of my tongue, she would clam up, so I asked, “Did you love him...a lot?”
“He was...is...the only man I’ve ever loved. I think about him every day.”
I gulped. That explained why my mother listened to the power ballads of the eighties, like “All I Wanna do is Make Love to You” by Heart and Rod Stewart’s “Forever Young,” with tears in her eyes. “So then, why, Mama? Why’d you leave him?”
She continued twisting the tassels and did not answer.
I sighed and gently took the blanket from her, releasing her fingers from the tassels. “Did he leave you?”
“No, I left him.”
“You don’t have to tell me why. Can you tell me your motivation, at least?”
“Because that’s what I do, Junie.” She looked squarely at me, her lovely jade eyes wet with unshed tears. “I run away. I’ve always done that. I ran away from my parents when things got too hard.”
“Wait, I thought you said they threw you out.”
“Eventually, they did. But before that...there were many times I ran away from home. And as far as your...f-father is concerned, I did not want to burden him with the trouble...that I am. I wasn’t a good person. I was no good for him.”
I urged her on but she was done and did not answer any more questions. She put the TV back on and I watched it with her, for the first time, without derision at her viewing choice.
When the credits were running, she turned to me and asked, “Tell me about your man...do you love him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” With a secretive smile, I got up and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for telling me about my father. When you are ready, one day, I’d like to know more.”
“And when you are ready, one day, I’d like to know more about your guy,” she said with a little smile.
Grinning ear to ear, I went to Cypress’s room where he was playing Capture with online friends. Stretched on his bed, eyes on the ceiling, I explained that I had a special friend who I needed to spend weekends with.
Hunched over his computer, he listened with his back to me, hands whizzing over his keyboard at sonic speed. “Like a boyfriend?”
I nodded. “That okay with you, bud?”
“Is that why your eyes shine now?”
“Wait, what?”
“Since you came back from San Francisco, your eyes shine.”
“Yes, he makes my eyes shine.” I felt warm, as if I were suddenly in the sun.
“Fine. I’ll miss you, but if he keeps your eyes shining, I guess, I’ll be happy.”
Tears filled my eyes and I got up and went to him. I hugged the back of his chair as he had no intention of stopping his game at any point. “I love you, Cypress.”
“I know. I’m too legit to quit.” He laughed and asked, “Is that funny?”
“Hysterical. Where’d you learn that?”
“Sofia Felipe.”
“Who?”
Cypress went red and hunched deeper into his PC game, shoulders stooped. “A gamer I’m friends with. Online only. Don’t know her in real life. We met on Capture. Virtually.”
Fascinating. Since high school, I’d not seen him get so self-conscious about a girl. I grilled him about her, but he was a vault. Apparently, this Sofia made my brother blush.
Kyle was arriving on Friday and I told him I’d pick him up from the airport. After much foot-dragging, he agreed. Relinquishing control of any part of his life made him restless and I knew it was out of character for him to submit to my plans. Though he pestered me about the details, I stayed true to my resolve to surprise him. When he asked what to pack, I knew he’d go Sherlock on my plans, so I enlisted Evan to pack for him.
By Friday, I could barely contain my excitement. Before I left home, I spilled coffee on my clothes and broke a plate. I packed everything, loaded up Tomato, checked her twice, and kissed my family goodbye a thousand times as I planned to pick up Kyle from the airport after work.
On the drive to work, it started to snow again. Clear flakes of ice made the roads slick and slippery and I was glad I had winter tires fitted on Tomato. When I parked at the museum, I saw two school buses arriving for field trips. Each child got a wide and unsolicited smile from me. Not even the next few hours of screaming and stomping dampened my mood as I worked and crunched candy canes.
I was on nirvana cloud ten.
