Other Side

EPILOGUE

A house could change, but a true home never did.

The stylish Newton colonial showed natural signs of wear, its cream-colored panels yellowing over the years, now in desperate need of a pressure wash. The landmark pine tree in the front yard had slowly withered, eventually plucked away and replaced by a patch of uneven grass. The once sprawling herb garden in the back had dwindled down to just a small batch of mint, rarely finding a place in a cup of tea anymore, but its bright green color was indicative of the life that still flourished in and around those four walls, the keepers of the secrets of generations.

And they kept coming.

"You know, I'm still lost on why eighty-nine is such a huge deal in your family," Zaid chuckled, pulling their son, Elias, out of the backseat. He grabbed onto his small hand as he began charging towards the open front door, almost flying into the biker making his way up the main road of the neighborhood. "We only threw a party for my grandfather's ninetieth birthday earlier this year."

"I don't think it's the age. It's the fact everyone is actually here, for once." She waved a big hello to her Uncle Marcus throwing a football with her ten-year-old cousin, Tyler, always having to block out how close in age he was to her son. "Also, eighty-nine is a prime number, which I think is kinda cool."

Elias perked up, no longer fighting his father's grip on his hand. "What's a prime number, Baba?"

"Just a math concept," he replied, ruffling his hair. "Nothing too fun, habibi."

"But I like math."

Zaid stilled and closed his eyes, possibly wondering once again why he had to deal with her in two forms—as Elias was all Talia.

She wasn't sure whether it was comfort or nostalgia that always hit her first when she walked through the front door, as this house overwhelmed her brain with a flood of memories as much as it assuaged any worries planted inside.

"Amo!"

Elias ripped himself out of Zaid's hold and raced through the foyer to his favorite uncle standing by the stairs. Laughing, Saif picked him up and spun him around, beginning a chorus of how are you's in Arabic, to which Elias happily replied in the same language, usual shyness nowhere to be found.

A sigh echoed from next to her. "And once again, nothing for Khalo."

"Calvin," Talia chuckled, holding her chest.

She'd thought his work schedule hadn't aligned with this celebration, but there was he was, decked out in a pair of seersucker shorts and a white dress shirt, embracing his inner my-dad-is-a-lawyer look. In truth, there was only one lawyer in the family, and he was already abandoning his job as a litigator for the messy world of politics.

"Hey, guys." Reagan wedged himself between his two cousins and planted an elbow on each of their shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Can't stay too long. Sido and I are already on rough terms, so hopefully I can make it through the next hour unscathed."

Those rough terms had started the day he'd announced he was running for Congress in Massachusetts, which, to Fouad, was the equivalent of having one less grandson. With his quick wit, charisma, and a Yale law degree under his belt, there was no reason for a seat in the House to have been a lofty goal, save for the fact he was barely in his thirties, and the incumbent Representative he was trying to boot from office was pushing eighty and had quite the dedicated fanbase.

"What is it this time?" Calvin chuckled, quirking a thick brow. "Grassroots fundraiser? Or reading through the desperate tweets from fourteen-year-old girls?"