The Girl in The Green Scarf

E p i l o g u e

E P I L O G U E

[Five Years Later]

> S e b a s t i a n <

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to ward off the headache that is starting. I hate jetlags even more than I hate big events.

I shrug on my jacket, lace up my shoes and plop onto the only sofa in Yahiya's living room. I keep trying to convince him sofas are the essence of a house, but he never listens.

"Just for the record, I'm ready to go, you're the one keeping us late," I say as Hamsa rummages through her suitcase, looking for God knows what this time.

"Well, we wouldn't be late if you'd peel your butt off the sofa and come help me look for--gotcha!" she exclaims, holding up Izzy's other pair of shoe, a triumphant grin on her face.

I roll my eyes, propping my feet up on the coffee table.

"All this fuss is about a shoe? who would even care if a two year old had matching shoes on?"

"I spent two hours shopping for shoes to match her dress, so I care."

"Scary Mum, huh?" I whisper, winking down at Izzy who is busy destroying Hamsa's mobile screen with chocolate.

"Tata!" she exclaim, holding up what remains of the chocolate bar.

Last week she did a little experiment with my phone which turned out to be not so waterproof after all.

"Put this on her while I wrap up my scarf. The other pair is on the sofa next to you," Hamsa says, tossing the shoe at me.

It hits my nose and she snorts, poking her tongue at me.

"Clumsy dad, huh?"

"Cuzy!" Izzy parrots then giggles as Hamsa picks her up, saving the phone.

Izzy is in that stage where she catches any foreign word she hears, and it is hilarious.

Hamsa hands her to me, along with a napkin.

"You gave her the chocolate bar, you deal with the damage," she says, pinching my nose playfully.

Miraculously Izzy's dress is unstained, I just wipe chocolate off her face and hands, noting to myself that giving an unattended toddler chocolate isn't a good idea.

As I slip on her shoes, Hamsa returns to the living room, scarf secured and purse in hand.

"Izzy is ready to go," I say, setting her down.

She patters towards Hamsa, tugging at her hand.

Hamsa kneels down to fix her dress and hair.

"Give mommy a kiss," she says, squeezing her eyes shut and puckering her lips.

Izzy giggles, giving her a sloppy, loud kiss.

"My beautiful princess."

"Don't I get a kiss too?" I say, sticking out my lower lip in a pout.

Izzy and Hamsa turn to look at me, both shaking their heads no, then breaking into a laugh.

"Nope, no kisses for daddy."

Hamsa walks up to me. She smoothes down the shoulders of my suit jacket and straightens my tie, then flicks my my nose.

"Let's get going," she says.

And she turns, walking away, but I don't let her take more than a step. I grab the golden waist of her dress, whipping her around and pulling her towards me. She collides against my chest, a startled yelp escaping her lips.