Other Side

06 | Cold Day in Hell

For the next two days, Talia and Zaid pretended like that night had never happened.

Talia supposed it was better that way, that her grandparents didn't think they could stand each other—in private or in public—or else they would have worried about what they did in their free time. While decades in the US may have tempered some of their conservative tendencies, she still wanted to play it safe.

"You can't be serious." Her grandfather stood motionless at the back window of the kitchen, staring at the endless fresh white blanket on the patio and grass. He grumbled a few curses to himself in Arabic, something with more than one khara. "I swear I am going crazy. It just snowed last week. And the week before. And the week before."

"You know it can snow more than once in a month, Fouad," Zaid said, looking up from his bowl of cereal—Raisin Bran.

Talia refrained from commenting on the banality.

Her grandfather whirled around, and for the first time, he looked like he couldn't stand Zaid. Actually, he looked like he couldn't stand anything, save for a hot, sunny day back in his homeland, but she wasn't even sure how warm it was over there this time of year, anyway.

"My apologies." Zaid ducked his head down and busied himself with reading the nutrition label on the box of cereal.

Fouad took a seat across from them, digging both of his palms into the table's surface. "The problem is that the absolute hmar of a snow plower we hire always comes and goes at his will." He grabbed one of his wife's homemade date cookies from the display on the table. Chewing aggressively, he continued, "The driveway is still full of snow and ice, and I promised Salma I would take her out shopping today. She will cut my head off if I keep her from the post-Christmas sales any longer."

"You can't just call him up?" Talia asked, clueless about how snow plowing worked.

You have to pay to get rid of snow you didn't ask for?

"As if he will answer," he said, rubbing his hand down his face. "Ya Allah, now I have to go out there myself, only for it to snow again next week!"

"No, no, no," Talia said, extending her hand across the table, palm up. "I'll do it. Zaid can help, right?" She kicked his ankle under the table, giving him no choice but to say yes.

"Of course," he chimed, shooting her a wide grin. "I've done this many times before. We can have the driveway cleared in less than an hour."

Her grandfather looked up from his snow-induced despair, brown eyes softening. "Oh, thank you so much." Standing up, he planted a kiss on the top of her head and then pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, before mumbling into her ear, "Just try not to kill each other."

***

"So, how many times have you done this before?"

Zaid looked up from behind a mountain of dirt-laden snow, shovel in tow. Neither of them had made a dent yet, too horrified by how much worse the job looked once they'd made it outside.

"Once," he said, sinking the tip of his shovel into the virgin snow. Clean thoughts, Talia. "Last week."

"Once?" She marched across the driveway in her black Chelsea boots, the closest things she had to the right shoes for this weather. She slid forward on a frozen patch, catching herself before she head-butted his chest again. "You said many times. 'Many times' doesn't mean once in English."

"It's not rocket science, Talia." He scooped up a small amount and threw it behind him. Half of it landed on his head and slid down his black parka, melting on the warm surface. "Okay maybe it's not that easy. But not hard...yet."