Chapter Twenty-Nine

BANQUET HALLS, WITH their cavernous ceilings and accordion walls, had been the backdrop to every wedding reception, bridal shower, and quinceañera of Ellie’s youth, so despite the za’atar on the table and the pulsing Arabic music, the aqiqah for Ahmad and Salma’s baby had a nostalgic familiarity. Ellie rubbed a thumb across her chair’s sturdy upholstery, ribbed with two forgettable shades of beige. Each hall had its own peculiar blandness, adaptable to any culture, religion, or community.

Mara weaved through the tables, a slim navy dart in a sea of flowing abayas and khimars. Her rainbow bowtie bobbed at her neck. Teenagers clustered by the wall tracked her with obvious fascination.

“You were gone a while. Everything okay?”

“Bathrooms are on the other side of the lobby.” Mara slid into her chair. “It’s been a minute since I’ve walked past so many subtle stares.”

“And not-so-subtle ones.” Ellie nodded toward the chittering girls.

“To be fair, a woman in a hijab would get stares in Boystown. Context matters.”

“I see those girls and remember myself at that age, knowing I was queer but pretending to blend in. I’d have passed out if you walked through the door.”

“Fourteen-year-old you had a thing for short butch women?”

“Fourteen-year-old me would’ve thought you were amazing!” Ellie called out to Ahmad as he worked his way over. “Hey, if you’d seen adult Mara when you were fourteen, wouldn’t you have thought she was the coolest?”

“The absolute coolest! Of course, back then, I was six feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet, so everyone was cooler than me.” He squatted on his haunches next to them. “By the way, I’ve pointed out the pair of you to a few kids who’ve had trouble finding queer role models. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Point away,” Ellie said. “Thanks again for inviting us. I’ve never been to an aqiqah, but it’s way more fun than a baby shower. And this hall is a blast from the past! I’ve attended at least three wedding receptions here. My feet hurt just thinking about it.”

Ahmad laughed and clapped his hands together. “Baba wanted it at the community center, but Mama overruled him. Evidently, when we added our ‘American’ friends to the total, we needed more room.”

“I hope he forgives us for crashing the party,” Mara said.

“Oh, it’s fine. The more love around our new daughter, the better.”

Ellie smiled at his enthusiasm, the way his face glowed as the word “daughter” left his mouth. “Amal is a beautiful name. What does it mean?”

“Hope.”

“Well, you’ve been hoping for her for a long time, so I’m glad she’s finally here.” Mara craned her neck to see past the throng of women surrounding Ahmad’s wife. “How’s Salma feeling, really? We just talked for a second.”

“Tired. Sore. Emotionally, she’s still struggling with the emergency C-section. We spent months making this great birth plan, and in seconds, it fell apart. It was so scary—” He waved both hands, brushing away the memory. “But I’m not talking about that today. Amal is fine, tomorrow is Salma’s first Mother’s Day, and we’re trying to focus on gratitude rather than fear.” He pointed at the empty seat next to Mara. “So where’s Rachel?”

Ellie had asked the same question, but Mara had deflected it until Ahmad was there—she didn’t want to repeat the story. Her avoidance could only mean one thing.

“We’re not together anymore.” Mara’s cool blue eyes didn’t waver. “She sends her regrets, and she’ll give you Amal’s present at work.”

“When did this happen?” Ahmad asked.

“After you went on paternity leave. She volunteered to skip today, instead of me.”

“She could’ve come anyway,” Ellie said. “You’re both adults.”

“It wasn’t me she was worried about. Not entirely.” Ice-blue eyes darted to her and then away again. It was the closest Ellie had ever come to seeing Mara squirm.

“What does that mean?”

“Did you ever wonder why Rachel was so dismissive of your girlfriends?”

“She told me I wasn’t as good a friend when I was dating. I tried to be aware of it, but it didn’t help. She’d still get snarky.”

“She’s in love with you.”

The words spun on a loop in her brain. As much as she tried to get them to settle, she couldn’t.

“I always thought something was funny there,” Ahmad said.

“Wait, what?” Ellie rounded on him. “How did you know?”

Sputtering, he held up his hand in defense. “I didn’t know. I just wondered. A vibe I got.”

Mara scratched the tight buzz on the back of her neck. “It’s more fair to say she’s hung up on you. You were getting over Jill when you and Rach first met, right?”

Ellie nodded. Rachel was a good friend early on, using her snark to support, rather than cut, as she did now.

“It’s why she didn’t make a move, initially. Then she was with someone when you started dating again, and then there was Angie.”

“She told you this?”

“I got it out of her. Honestly, I never noticed until you hooked up with Olivia. She became fixated on your relationship, how it wasn’t good for you.”

Ellie leaned her forehead on one hand, glancing at Mara from underneath it. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re good, you and me. It was Rachel’s deal. She couldn’t get past it.”

“I feel like such an idiot for not noticing. You want to tell a woman next time?” She smacked Ahmad’s arm.

“What if I was wrong? Now I’m the creepy dude pairing up his female coworkers. No thanks.”

“I think she was playing it cool, hoping you’d make the first move,” Mara said. “She wants to be pursued—sticking her neck out and risking rejection isn’t her style.”

Ahmad’s mother came over and whispered in his ear. He nodded, holding up a finger in a “one second” gesture. “She needs my help, but I’ll circle back.” He placed his hand on his chest and smiled at Mara. “For the record, Rachel’s the real loser in this equation.”

“Thanks.”

As he wound his way through the crowd, Ellie touched Mara’s knee. “I’ll admit, when you two started dating, I was worried it might get messy, but you seem okay.”

“I don’t do messy endings. Not my style.”

“Yeah, but they are Rachel’s style.”

“I had a clear picture of who Rachel was when we started up. The surprise was you being in the middle. Not on purpose, obviously.” Mara’s edgy visual aesthetic was an incongruous mask for her steady nature. Even hurricane Rachel couldn’t disrupt it.

“It’s impressive how okay you are. You were together, what, a year?”

“Are you trying to make me feel less okay?” Mara’s bemused smile gave away the joke.

“Jesus, no. Ignore me. I’m just dragging my emotional baggage into your breakup.”

“What emotional baggage?”

Ellie put up a hand to screen Mara’s face, which had dropped into a familiar, probing expression. “Don’t hit me with your contemplative social worker eyes. I’ve seen too many people spill their guts when you use them.”

“So there are guts to be spilled.” Mara pulled her hand down. “Let’s hear it.”

She shook her head, grimacing. “Ever since Abuela died, I’ve felt unsteady, emotionally. I overreact to stuff that normally wouldn’t bother me. I’m extra clingy with Marisol and Claudia online, which they’re fine about, but it’s not who I am.”

“Makes sense. It’s a huge loss for you.”

“But it’s getting weird with Olivia, and I can’t trust my own gut.” Their encounter after the piano still lingered. The more Olivia pretended it was nothing, the more Ellie couldn’t let it go. “We had a fight this week—not even a fight, really, just a tense moment—and I think there’s more than she’s letting on.”

“Could it be Mother’s Day weekend? Must be a complicated holiday for her.”

“I wondered about that, but she’s been pretty open about tomorrow being difficult.” Ellie rapped her knuckles on the table. “It’s the stuff she won’t talk about that worries me. Our dating life started with these long conversations about everything and nothing. I’ve never had such a connection before.”

“But…” Mara rotated her finger in a “go on” motion.

“I sleep there certain nights now, which is great. The sex is…it’s amazing, honestly. The best of my life. But—” Huffing a sigh through her nose, she searched for the right words. Olivia’s shift was subtle but unsettling. “Have you ever been with someone in bed, skin-to-skin, and still felt like they were a million miles away?”

The coolness in Mara’s eyes wavered, then reset. “Yes.”

“We still talk, sometimes, but other times there’s a wall.”

“You’ve told her this?”

“I have, but she either isn’t getting it or won’t hear it.” The past few weeks, Ellie had sifted through slivers of stories, searching for truths hidden in the scraps Olivia shared. “The longer I’m in the house, the more distant she keeps me.”

“Are you looking for a way out?”

“I don’t want out. I want in. I want in all the way.”

Mara raised an eyebrow in her version of surprised. “It’s only been six months.”

“Six and a half, but it’s different from Angie.”

“It always is.”

“Won’t it have to be different for me to find the right woman? Why can’t it be now?”

“It can be, but this relationship has so many moving parts.” Mara drummed her fingers on the table. “Have you told Olivia? About being all in?”

Olivia’s subdued reaction to the “love” conversation had stilled her tongue when it came to big emotions. “My relationships with Jill and Angie fell apart when I pushed for things they weren’t ready to give. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Asking for what you need isn’t a mistake.”

“I know, but I can be too impatient, which isn’t fair to Olivia, who’s juggling a lot.” It grated on Ellie to be so hesitant, but each choice carried its own risk. “She’s balanced on the edge of something. I’m afraid if I crowd her, she might fall away.”

“Don’t compromise your needs too far. You’re both in this relationship.”

“I hear you; I do. And it’s not always like this. We have days where we’re so close. Then other times, just lately, she retreats in pain. I hate seeing her struggle.”

“You can’t make her accept your help. You said you want in all the way, but what if she doesn’t want to let you?”

Mara’s question was valid. If the roles were reversed, Ellie would’ve asked it herself. But her brain refused to process any outcome that didn’t include Olivia. “I don’t know. I really don’t, because I can’t imagine life without her.”