Under the Olive Tree

17. Sab'a T'Ashar

Muhsin shaved that morning. He spread the cream over his jawline, lower cheeks, and upper neck with the thick brush. The straight edge blade slid smoothly over his skin. The cream rolled with it to reveal the clear skin beneath. He began at his cheeks and finished at the center of his neck.

He patted the aftershave into his skin once he'd finished.

Then he moved to his bedroom to find Ezzo snoring over the edge of his bed. Muhsin picked the sleeping boy up and adjusted him over the pillow. He fixed the blanket over his chest then lowered the fan's strength so it didn't blow cool air over him.

He chose his white thobe for the wedding. It slid easily over his head and fell to his feet once he'd put his arms through. Muhsin clasped the cuffs and fastened the three buttons rising to his neck. He ran his hands over its front. The iron's warmth remained attached to its material. He made sure he'd unplugged the hot device.

A small box rested in its pocket. It was opposite of the key.

Muhsin ruffled the remaining dampness from his hair. Then he ran the comb through both sides at angle away from his face. The strands that had rested over his eyes fell near his temples to reveal his face. The white bandage over the fresh stitches above his left eyebrow called attention to itself once it no longer hid behind his hair.

"My love, you are dressed already? Your sister still has not finished her shower." His mother entered.

He placed the comb down and turned to her. "I should check on the bakery before the wedding. We can't leave its door closed or the air will become stale and the dough will expire."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "Why do you not allow yourself even one day off? We have a wedding today."

"I'm not opening the bakery, only checking on it." Muhsin closed the outer windows to dim the lighting of the room.

His mother noticed. "You did not sleep last night."

"I slept."

"For how long? An hour? Two?"

"Alhamdullilah, I feel well rested."

She repeated his praise. "If the nightmares have returned, we can go see the Sheikh again, my love. You slept well after we saw him last time, didn't you? I can call him tomorrow."

Muhsin shook his head and walked toward his mother. "There have been no nightmares. You know I would tell you if they returned. Don't worry." He held the back of her head and pressed a kiss to her forehead on his way out.

"That is why I am worried. Because I know you would not tell me if they did return. Don't forget you are my son, after all. I can read you better than you read yourself."

He smiled as he opened the door. "I do not doubt it."

"We will see you at the wedding in one hour!" She called after him as he made his way down the stairs of the building.

The sun was at its brightest before it set. Muhsin lowered his gaze to the floor when he stepped into its light. He only saw the feet of those maneuvering out of his way on his way to the bakery only a few feet from the gate of the house he'd just left.

The key in his pocket unlocked the door. All the voices and footsteps in the street drowned out the peace inside the bakery. It returned once the door fell to a close. Muhsin occupied himself checking the temperatures of the storage units and taking the inventory that his sister should have yesterday. Inventory was never taken if it was her turn to take it.

He'd come to expect that he'd have to do it.

Anything else would be a shock.

He was in the back when the door opened and its bell jingled.