Our Circumstances

Chapter 19

Zaki stood in the corner of the living room, his arms crossed and his expression reflecting pure vexation. "Why am I being dragged into this?" he groused. 

"Zaki, be happy for your sister", Maria scolded him. "Getting a job as a librarian is no easy task. On top of that, she managed to get a job close by and right after graduating; it's remarkable."

"Well, congratulations to her", Zaki said cynically, "but I'm not going to a girl's party. It's awkward."

Maria placed a finger under her chin in rumination. "It is a little strange for you to be the only boy", she admitted. "Will you stay for a little while? Bring the Sentra and leave whenever you like."

Zaki sympathized with his mother; ever since she lost her husband, she sought comfort in attending gatherings like these. She socialized often and desired everyone to enjoy their time with her - her son included.

Zaki nodded unwillingly, taking a mental note to leave right after eating. Grabbing the keys from the key holder, he made his way to the car and started the engine immediately. 

Maria locked the front door and hopped inside the minivan. "Let's go."

Saliha, who was in the driver's seat, buckled her seat belt and waited for Zaki to reverse his car so she could back up her own. "That's how you got him to come? He's bringing the Sentra so he can leave whenever he wants?"

"Well, I wanted us to celebrate together, and it was the only way to convince him." There was a short pause before she spoke again. "Oh, I just remembered - did you bring the cake?"

"Yes ma'am, it's in the trunk."

"Good."

Both Saliha and Zaki had the route memorized; they were off to a halal, fancy restaurant that featured a fusion of Mediterranean and Chinese cuisines called "Medinese". It was their preferred destination for celebrations, whether it was an achievement, graduation, or birthday. To this day, it remained a mystery to Saliha how the restaurant managed to pull off great tastes from two very distinct cultures.

As soon as the trio arrived, Saliha removed the cheesecake from the trunk and followed her mother and brother towards the restaurant. Once they headed inside, they were promptly directed to a large table by the receptionist. 

Satisfaction lulled their hearts as the family realized the vacancy and silence in their environment; they were used to seeing a full house, with every table occupied and raucousness that echoed throughout the building and surrounded them mercilessly. It's a weeknight, not a weekend, remembered Saliha. What a difference!

A waiter approached them with a notepad and pen, asking if they wanted anything to drink. I can actually hear and understand the waiter. 

"Just water, thanks", Saliha replied for everyone. I don't have to yell. "Also, would you mind taking this to the fridge for us?" She gestured to the cake in her hands while the receptionist bobbed her head up and down.

"Certainly, and I'll be back with water and the menus." She grabbed the cake effortlessly with one hand and marched off to the kitchen.

Saliha turned to her mother in gratification and said, "Why have we never come here during a weeknight?"

"American chefs, who were taught the recipes, work on weekdays, while authentic Chinese and Arab Muslim chefs work on weekends - I thought you knew that."

Saliha's cheeks reddened. "I did not."

"Don't worry - the food should not taste that much different."

After discussing her awareness of different chefs working in the restaurant, Saliha looked up to the sound of familiar voices. She soon discovered that her friends were coming her way, carrying small gift bags around their elbows.