Zeina tugged at the sleeve of her black 3abaya, staring intently at her colorless nails and the wad of stuffed tissue between her fingers. She refused to raise her head up, refused to let her eyes look at the mourning women around her. She focused …

Zeina tugged at the sleeve of her black 3abaya, staring intently at her colorless nails and the wad of stuffed tissue between her fingers. She refused to raise her head up, refused to let her eyes look at the mourning women around her. She focused …

i just thought id let you know that my laptop has gone crazy, so its gonne be a few more days before i fix it and post the next part. Please bear with me and be patient =)ps: im sorry i couldnt send out any email notifications because the list, like th…

Hi all,
I have just finished composing this email to british airways…
“Dear British Airways,
I am a firm believer that there is no other airline that provides a better flight experience than yours. I simply refuse to use any other airlines for my european trips. That was until i boarded a flight from Zurich back to [...]

* Yasmeen *

I watched as Shereen turned her bag upside down, letting all the stuff fall on her bed. “Shoo yalsa tsaween?” Maytha asked as she popped her head around Shereen’s bedroom door. “She’s packing! Shoosh wallah chinich yaditty…

Walking out of the shower Zeina checked her mobile for the time: 4pm, this meant she had two hours before she needed to be at Dalal’s house for the barbecue. Un-pausing the Desperate Housewives episode that was frozen on her TV she hit the volume on …

Walking out of the shower Zeina checked her mobile for the time: 4pm, this meant she had two hours before she needed to be at Dalal’s house for the barbecue. Un-pausing the Desperate Housewives episode that was frozen on her TV she hit the volume on …

Throughout the night Zeina tossed and turned, waking up a total of five times. The last time she awoke was an hour before her alarm was supposed to ring; deciding it was pointless to go back to sleep she pulled herself up in bed and hugged her pill…

Throughout the night Zeina tossed and turned, waking up a total of five times. The last time she awoke was an hour before her alarm was supposed to ring; deciding it was pointless to go back to sleep she pulled herself up in bed and hugged her pill…

Im not really a fan of football but when it comes to the gulf cup im suddenly a hard core fan. In the 17th cup when Oman lost in the finals to Qatar in penalties, I cried. In the 18th, I didnt even bother getting worked up cos I knew the Emaraties were…

7.30 pmBeep: am outsideBeepBeep..BeepBeep: coming..!!!!!!!!Dalal ran downstairs, she passed the living room where her parents were sitting watching TV. “3ala ween Baba??” her dad asked in genuine concern”kill my self in like you do in the garden every …

Something “slight” happened yesterday which made my decision quite clear. I finally figured out what I want despite my reluctance to do what I have to. I hate the feeling. I can’t really describe it but I can tell you it feels like your heart is heavy,…

Zeina’s mother woke her up at around 10 in the morning. “Goomay youma, yala benterayag” she told her lovingly patting her shoulder. “thab7ich hal telifon! Mu zain et7i6eena yamich cham mara agoolich…” Her mother instantly began naggin…

Zeina’s mother woke her up at around 10 in the morning. “Goomay youma, yala benterayag” she told her lovingly patting her shoulder. “thab7ich hal telifon! Mu zain et7i6eena yamich cham mara agoolich…” Her mother instantly began naggin…

“What,” Fajer began in a low voice, “Is that thing doing here?”
“I don’t know! What the hell?” Jawhara made her way slowly down the stairs and Fajer trailed behind her.
“Jawhara, 7abeebti, hathi rifeejti Huda min ayam ilthanawiya!” Jawhara’s mother exclaimed happily, “And this is her daughter Reem.”
“Mmm,” Jawhara hummed, acknowledging their arrival. She couldn’t believe how sneaky these women were!
“7abeebti, shloonich?” Huda smiled wryly and kiss-kissed Jawhara.
“B5air, il7mdilla,” Jawhara replied politely, moving on to kiss Reem’s cheek. Fajer followed suit, seemingly uncomfortable.
Within moments, they sat down at the dining table, the older women exchanging formalities and making small talk while Reem, Fajer, and Jawhara sat quietly. Reem eyed Jawhara, inspecting her au-naturelle hairdo and her cute Juicy training set – she’d wanted one just like it a few months ago but couldn’t find one in her size. Fajer unabashedly stared at Reem in return, picking apart her fashion sense – she was wearing an emerald green jacket with gold hoop earrings, skin tight jeans tucked into knee-high brown boots. ‘She looks like she escaped the marching band,’ Fajer thought, giggling to herself.
Rose brought out the lunch; a large bowl of rocket salad with beets and pomegranate, machboos diyay, and Fajer’s favorite, grilled jumbo prawns and crab-cakes.
“You made crab-cakes?” Fajer whispered to Jawhara delightedly, poking her side.
“Ushhh!” Jawhara shushed her, her eyes widening, “Eat now; thank me later.”
“A7ibich,” Fajer said melodically, picking up two large crab-cakes and setting them on her plate. She immediately forked a big chunk off, dipped it in the Thai dressing that had accompanied it, and bit into it. The sweet tender crab meat melted in her mouth, and the flavors that had accompanied it sprang to life like a symphony. Fresh coriander flecks released their zesty taste, as well as the tart lime, chili, and corn. Fajer closed her eyes in utter bliss as she chewed, savoring the wonderful flavors before it was time for another bite.
“Walla, tawna ams radeen min ilshalaih. Tadreen ba3ad, iljaw te’3ayar,” Huda’s voice got the girls’ attention.
“Ee walla, shyga3edkum ibhal jaw?” Jawhara’s mother smiled as she served Huda and Reem. The rain splattered loudly against the windowsill, reminding them of the dreary weather.
“3ad goolay mino t’3ada 3indina? Tathkereen wild Fahad Al-Flani?” Huda said slyly, glancing at Jawhara to see her reaction. Jawhara’s stomach flipped at the mention of Mbarak; she now knew why his friends called him Bu Fahad. She tried to keep her cool even though the incident still bothered her, even when Reem looked over at Jawhara, smiling smugly at the fact that she had the upper hand with Mbarak’s family.
“Fahad Al-Flani illi murta 7e9a Al-Flani?” Jawhara’s mother grinned, carving the chicken breast on her plate into slices.
Huda’s face turned pale, as did Reem’s. After a quick pause, Huda stammered, “Haw, it3arfeen 7e9a?”
“Ee, ha 3ayal! Ana oo 7e9a kinna indawem bilKOC, oo min tewafa ubo Jawhara Allah yir7ama, 6ela3t min ilshareka oo ge6a3na. Min ziman 3anha 7e9a!” Jawhara’s mother smiled while reminiscing on the good times she had with Mbarak’s mother, a warm glint in her eye. Jawhara and Fajer were practically awestruck at the fact that Mbarak’s mother and Jawhara’s mother were once friends.
Self-satisfied, Jawhara and Fajer raised their eyebrows at Reem. Fajer pronged a large piece of her crab-cake and dipped it into the sauce. “Il-Kuwait kabat,” she hummed loudly before taking a triumphant bite. Jawhara lightly kicked Fajer’s leg under the table, signaling her stop before things got ugly. But in truth, Jawhara was enjoying the powwow that was going on, and her insides were bubbling over with joy; she couldn’t wait to share the news with Mbarak.
The rest of the lunch was filled with tension so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The only people who were oblivious to it were Jawhara’s mother and baby Joori, who was happily bunching the fragrant saffron rice in her hands and pressing it into her mouth. Joori picked up her plastic Disney Princess tumbler and brought it to her lips, noisily sipping her diluted orange juice. “Mama, I finished,” she said, and placed her tumbler on the table top.
“Akramkum Allah,” Huda said politely after they’d finished eating.
“3alaikum bil3afya,” Jawhara’s mother smiled, leading them to the living room for tea and cake.
Fajer and Jawhara sat slumped on the couch, glued to one another’s side while Reem sat next to her mother across the room. While the older women chatted vigorously, the three girls stared tentatively at one another, sometimes raising their eyebrows in triumph and at other times rolling their eyes. Reem flipped her hair back and mumbled something to her mother, indicating that she wanted to leave. Loudly, Huda said something along the lines of “Ni6ray shway; ana oo 5altich ga3deen insolef!”
Reem’s face turned a deep shade of pink and she quietly stirred her tea, watching the sugar granules and threads of saffron swirl around in the current her spoon had created.

“Jooj, I have to study; when is this shindig gonna end?” Fajer whispered to Jawhara, who was happily indulging in a slice of raspberry tea cake.
Jawhara forked a piece of the sugary cake and brought it close to Fajer’s lips. “Al7een, shway bes. Try this.”
Fajer took the piece of cake into her mouth and closed her eyes blissfully. This wasn’t an ordinary cake – what used to be an run-of-the-mill pound cake was now laced with plump raspberries. The sweet fruit left big red explosions in the marigold cake, infusing it’s tart sugariness into every bite. To top it all off, confectioner’s sugar was dusted lightly on the top, and the fresh warmth of the cake had reduced it to a translucent glaze. “This is better than Little Treats,” Fajer murmured, picking at another piece of the cake.
“3awafi,” Jawhara smiled. “5allay ilstudying 7ag tonight; we’ll all go. Tell Wahab to come, too.”
Reem watched them, an ache forming in her chest cavity. She’d never had a real best friend before, and it envied her how Fajer and Jawhara were so close all the time and never got tired of seeing each other. Reem longed for a real friend to laugh with and share crazy memories with, but sadly, all of her old friends drifted away from her after she’d become so self-important and mean. For a split-second, Reem imagined how it would be if she tried to become friends with Jawhara and Fajer, but her thoughts immediately vanished at the sight of her mother. There was no way Reem could possibly have a single friend without completing what was on her mother’s agenda first.

A few minutes later, Huda and Reem excused themselves, saying they had to do some last-minute shopping for their upcoming trip before the malls became too crowded.
“7ayakam Allah,” Jawhara’s mother said cheerily, and after a train of formalities and good-byes, Reem and her mother left, leaving Fajer and Jawhara to bombard Jawhara’s mother with questions.
“Mama, two questions; first of all, how do you know this woman?” Jawhara crinkled her face.
“I’ve known her min ayam ilthanawiya oo bil9edfa I saw her again 3ind beit 5altich Haya two weeks ago; laish?” Jawhara’s mother replied.
“La, bes as2al,” Jawhara said quickly, more interested in the answer to her second question.
“They’re really nice, mo?” Jawhara’s mother smiled, picking up the empty estikanas and placing them on the silver tray.
“Ee, wayid nice, 5alti,” Fajer said sarcastically, clucking her tongue.
“Inzain, yuma; second question. Who is 7e9a Al-Flani, and how well do you know her?”
Jawhara’s mother poured herself her last estikana of tea and sat down between Jawhara and Fajer. “7e9a Al-Flani; a6yab insana 3eraft’ha ib7ayati. When we worked bilKOC, she’d always bring breakfast for everyone. Oo kinna nishte’3el wiya ba3ath fee wayid projects. I was fresh fa ma kint a3aref wayid nas, bes kanat dayman wiyay oo she was so friendly.”
Jawhara’s face lit up with every word. “3ayal laish ma itdigeen 3alaiha, Mama? Maybe you’d like to see her again?”
Jawhara’s mother looked at her daughter with questioning eyes, ”Why the sudden interest in my friends and who I talk to?”
Fajer stifled a giggle and looked at Jawhara, who had a pert smile plastered on her face. Jawhara was always brutally honest with her mother – she even told her about A7med, but of course, not all of the gruesome details of their relationship. Jawhara’s mother was nothing short of her best friend. “Because…,” Jawhara sang.
“Because what?” her mother raised her eyebrows suspiciously.
“Just say it, Jooj!” Fajer laughed, shaking her head at her friend’s miserable attempt to hide things from her mother.
“Because I’m kinda talking to her son,” Jawhara blurted out quickly and bit her lower lip hard.
“Which son? Yousef?” Jawhara’s mother said incredulously.
“Nooo, not Yousef, Mama! Mbarak!” Jawhara whined, feeling embarrassed. She could feel her face start to turn a million shades of red.
“Oh, Mbarak! 3abali bitgooleen Yousef; Yousef mitzawej!” Jawhara’s mother took a sip of her tea.
“No, no, Mama. Mbarak,” Jawhara let his name play on her lips again; she loved the way it sounded.
“Ee ya7laila Mbarak,” Jawhara’s mother squinted, as if trying to get a better look at her past. “Mo2adab, she7laila.”
“Yeah, Mama. He’s nice,” Jawhara smiled at her mother’s approval, but before she could bask in the good vibes she was getting, Jawhara’s mother proceeded to warn her as all mothers would.
“Be careful; not that he’s a bad guy. But with any guy. Just be careful.”
“Inshallah, Mama,” Jawhara smiled and kissed her mother on the crown of her head, “Don’t worry.”
“Ee don’t worry, 5alti,” Fajer butted in, “I’m looking out for her, too.”
“Wintay ma 3indich jaw?” Jawhara’s mother turned to Fajer, who was happily polishing off another slice of raspberry tea cake. Fajer looked up from her plate nervously, and she nodded, crumbs of cake decorating her smiling lips.
Fajer told Jawhara’s mother little details about Wahab, confiding in her about their happy moments and her fears of being hurt. Jawhara’s mother smiled, listened, and advised Fajer as if she were her own daughter. Fajer hugged Jawhara’s mother and kissed her cheek, grateful to have a maternal figure that she could actually talk to – there was absolutely no way Fajer could talk to her own mother about these things, in fear of being scolded or mistrusted.

Jawhara called Mbarak, her insides tickling with excitement. “Aloo!” she sang into the phone.
“Hala walla, 7abeebti,” Mbarak said cheerfully, elated to hear Jawhara’s voice.
“Two things – you’ll never guess who came over for lunch, and you’ll never ever guess who my mom is friends with.”
“Hmmm? Gooleeli,” Mbarak tapped away on his keyboard, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder.
“Awal shay, what are you doing?” Jawhara frowned, plopping herself onto her bed. Fajer was sprawled out on the bedroom floor, reading celebrity gossip sites from Jawhara’s laptop.
“Typing an outline so I know what to study tonight,” Mbarak replied, “Inzain gooleeeeli mino!”
“Ya7lailik! Inzain, the people who came over for lunch were Reem and her mother.”
“Ayshay? Wai3. Inzain, who’s your mom friends with?” Mbarak asked irritably.
“Your mother,” Jawhara said with utter satisfaction, and she waited for a response.
Mbarak’s jaw dropped in surprise. “7elfaaay!!” he exclaimed, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
“Walla!” Jawhara squealed, throwing her head back into her satiny pillows.
“Wait, are you sure?” a hint of uncertainty crept into Mbarak’s voice.
“Yeah, I think so. Isn’t your mom 7e9a Al-Flani?” Jawhara asked.
“That’s her,” Mbarak beamed proudly at the mention of his mother’s name. His mother was insanely kind and understanding, and Mbarak always leaned on her for support and advice. She always wanted what was best for her sons, even though she had to go out of her way to make them happy. “3ajeeb!”
“I know, 9a7? Small world!” Jawhara smiled.
“Ee walla, small world!” Mbarak agreed. They then affirmed their plans for the night, planning to meet up at Caribou Coffee in the Free Trade Zone. “Tell Fajer to come.”
“Ee, I told her,” Jawhara said, looking over at Fajer and motioning for her to call Wahab.
“OK, 3ayal, inshoofkum hnaak,” Mbarak grinned and said his goodbyes before hanging up.

Fajer frowned at Jawhara, leaning against the edge of her bed. “Shfeech?” Jawhara asked.
“Wahab’s acting weird,” Fajer traced her finger against Jawhara’s blanket.
“Midaah? Shfeeh ba3ad?” Jawhara rolled herself over, facing Fajer.
“Madri, Jooj. He barely answers my messages and when he does, it’s killa one-word one-word. I asked him if he wanted to come tonight and still hasn’t replied,” Fajer rambled.
“Have you tried calling him?” Jawhara offered suggestions, disappointed at the way Wahab was treating her best friend.
“Yeah, he doesn’t pick up. Madri shfeeh,” Fajer sighed, exasperated, “Has Mbarak mentioned anything?”
“No,” Jawhara shook her head, “I can ask him if you want?”
“No, forget it. I don’t wanna seem like a lazga. Kaifa,” Fajer turned away from Jawhara and went back to the laptop, listening to the M7amed 3abdu track playing softly from the speakers. “Nisa 3ahd Il-Mewada Wel-Ti9abi.. 3alamah, Ya 7amama, Huw 3alamah? Wana Wallah Mansa Illi Me’6ali, Wala Ansa Illi ’3arami Min ’3aramaaa!”
Fajer sighed deeply, resting her head on the soft carpet. Her heart ached a little, but she tried to up her pride by a few notches, pushing her phone across the floor until she could no longer reach it.

In his room, Wahab paced back and forth from his work desk to his bed, trying to concentrate in spite of his mother’s yelling and the ruckus his brothers’ children were causing. He checked his phone quickly, skimming over the multitude of missed calls and text messages from Fajer and Mbarak. Frustrated, he threw his phone down and flung his bedroom door open. “Yuma! I’m trying to study! Shfeekum!?” He slammed the door shut again and picked up his phone, dialing Fajer’s number. The phone rang several times before it disconnected, and Fajer never answered. He tried calling again, a wave of guilt washing over him for ignoring her.
Fajer stared at the phone ringing a meter away from her, and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the number of times she’d allow it to ring before she answered Wahab’s phone calls.

+++++ M7amed 3abdu – Ya 7amama +++++

Dedicated to Deewe have 2 days holiday and I promise I’ll post more 2moro, enjoy, waiting your comments ;)———————————————————————————If there was anything special about Dalal, it was her ability to …

When you love someone and it goes to waste, could it be worse?”It’s over.”For some reason, when I say this to anyone (anyone being my friends) they start with the whole “Nooooo, it isn’t”, “Don’t say that!”, and the usual “You aren’t single, so don’t p…

* Yasmeen *

I pressed the button on the intercom and sang as soon as he answered, “Ya Mo7ammed ya salam ya salam ba6il il baaab ya Mo7ammed…”
“3alaich ib 9oot Yasmeeno” and I heard him buzz us in. “Ma 3inda thoo8 hal insaan”
We…

1 year, 6 months Earlier:”Faj2etich ??? men meta 7a6a eb rasech tabeen tadreseen barah rayoona?” was the dreadful sentence Um-Nawaf had told her daughter while setting the dinner table. Um-Nawaf was an old-fashioned mother. She married her first cousin…

1 year, 6 months Earlier:”Faj2etich ??? men meta 7a6a eb rasech tabeen tadreseen barah rayoona?” was the dreadful sentence Um-Nawaf had told her daughter while setting the dinner table. Um-Nawaf was an old-fashioned mother. She married her first cousin…

After calling Layla, Khalid and Waleed, I went downstairs to the main reception and stepped out of the building to call 3abdallah. I stood amidst the wind and took it all in. Then, I scrolled down to his number and sighed. I really didn’t want to do …

Ya nas whom I love very much .. sam7ooni 3al post leg9eer bes i’ve had a long day o mafeeni shada aktib akthar min chithee … enjoy ;*
—————–
Zeina tried to concentrate on her mother’s story as she glanced for the tho…

Ya nas whom I love very much .. sam7ooni 3al post leg9eer bes i’ve had a long day o mafeeni shada aktib akthar min chithee … enjoy ;*
—————–
Zeina tried to concentrate on her mother’s story as she glanced for the tho…

Saw this on TV a few days before I go to Dubai and I wanted to post it up but I didnt get a chance. Here goes. This is for Danderma

Had a great time – this time it was really special. I think I may have met someone. Not sure yet. Hes a friend’s friend and our mutual friend came over to me at some point in the evening telling me that hes been watching me and he can tell I liked him …

The next day started off unusually for Fajer and Jawhara. When they peered out of their windows expecting to find a luminous sun, they were instead greeted with giant raindrops that splattered from a gloomy grey sky. Jawhara called Fajer up and raved about the weather. “It’s so romantic! I love the rain! Allaaaah, winter is finally here!”
“Ay romantic; ay ba6ee5? This means no more ba7ar, no more tanning, and no more Bnaider,” Fajer complained.
“Min gaaaalich no more Bnaider? A7la shay Bnaider in the winter! Cozy trainings, Uggs, chay 3al fa7am – it’s the best!” Jawhara coaxed. “Oo ba3dain, you never know with Kuwait’s weather. Today she’ll be crying crocodile tears, and tomorrow she’ll burn us all with her sweltering heat.”
“I know,” Fajer laughed half-heartedly, folding her blanket against her stomach.
“Shfeech, Fajoor?” Jawhara sensed that her best friend wasn’t feeling 100 percent.
Fajer smiled at Jawhara’s instinct and sighed. “Madri, Jooj. You know when you know you’re happy and everything’s going well, bes something inside of you tells you it’s not as good as it should be?”
“You mean with Wahab?” Jawhara asked, pouring herself her morning mug of chay 7aleeb. The hot steam swirled up into Jawhara’s nostrils, the sweet scent of cardamom invigorating her senses.
“Yeah,” Fajer nodded. “Sometimes a7is it’s too good to be true; that in a few weeks or months he’s just gonna drift away and be like every other guy we hear girls complain about.”
Jawhara quickly took a sip of the scalding chay, careful not to burn her tongue. “What makes you so sure that that’s gonna happen?”
“I don’t know,” Fajer began, and gave Jawhara a brief of Wahab’s forgetfulness the night before. “Ya3ni he could’ve at least sent a message. That would’ve been nice.”
“Babe, when men are at the diwaniya, they seem to lose all sense of affection. It’s just Kout, food, PlayStation; whatever it is they do there. Don’t take it to heart, walla,” Jawhara tried to comfort her best friend, but deep inside, that very same hurt stung her heart. A7med never spoke to Jawhara while he was in the diwaniya, and sometimes he made obscene remarks and rejected her phone calls, leaving her to worry all night and wonder if she’d done something to disappoint him.
“I’m not upset. I just don’t wanna get shocked by him,” Fajer said, finally kicking off her bed covers and sitting up.
“Inshallah you won’t. And inshallah I won’t either,” said Jawhara. After their usual girly conversations, Fajer and Jawhara hung up, and Jawhara was left alone with her steaming mug of chay and a plateful of cinnamon-dusted darabeel. She took a long satisfying sip of the milk tea and tasted something different. With her mouth pressed tightly shut, she let the rich flavors soak into her tongue. Zesty cardamom, creamy milk, fragrant tea powder.. Saffron? After a short moment of thinking and another small sip of tea, her thoughts were settled; a tiny crimson thread of saffron made it’s way into her mouth with the flood of milk tea, leaving behind an earthy sweetness that she’d longed to taste.
The rain pitter-pattered against the windows of her Qur6uba home, and in the deafening silence, Jawhara called out for Joori. But Rose shimmied into the dining area to inform Jawhara that Joori had gone on a shopping expedition with her mother. Disappointed, Jawhara tapped her fingers against the wooden dining table – she didn’t know whether it was Joori’s absence that disheartened her, or the recap of last night’s confession to Mbarak.

Impulsively, she called him to wish him a good morning. Mbarak’s sleepy voice came through on the other end of the line, and though the thickness of his voice made most of his words incoherent, Jawhara could hear his smile.
“Barooki, goom,” Jawhara pleaded, “It’s almost 11.”
“Kani, bagoom,” Mbarak rolled over in his bed, the flimsy sheets twisting around his abdomen and hips.
“Yalla; 9a79e7 oo call me.”
“Laish; is everything OK?” Mbarak groaned, shaking off the drowsiness.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just want you to wake up,” Jawhara giggled.
“Jojo, ya3ni itga3deeni wana ma 3indi dawam; 7aram 3alaich!” he ran his hand through his short hair.
“7aram ana!” she laughed, “Ma 3indi a7ad! I’m drinking my tea alone!”
“Shga3da takleen?” Mbarak smiled at the thought of his Jawhara drinking her morning tea and having breakfast. For a split second, he imagined being by her side at the dining table and sharing his breakfast and his life with her.
“Chay 7aleeb oo darabeel,” Jawhara replied, dunking a flaky darabeel into her second mug of chay 7aleeb and watching the brown cinnamon create a circular boundary on the surface of the tea around the sweet treat.
“Beees?” Mbarak chuckled, “Mako baith? Gaimar? 3asal?”
“Fee! Walla fee! Bes I don’t eat all of that unless Fajer’s over for breakfast. Ma7ib akel broo7i,” Jawhara confessed.
“3ayal wainhi Fajer 3annich?”
“Tawha ga3da min inoom,” Jawhara said, ”She’s coming over in a bit, bes she’s got a lot of work to do for jam3a before classes start again, so ma ra7 it6awel.”
“Wintay? Ma 3indich shay?” Mbarak asked, remembering that he had two midterms in the coming weeks.
“3indi, bes not as much as Fajoor.”
“Inzain sh3indich ilyoom? Troo7een nadris together somewhere?” Mbarak suggested, hoping she’d say yes.
“I’d love to,” Jawhara beamed. “Let me know wain tabi troo7 oo when, and I’ll be there.”
“You’re on,” Mbarak grinned, rubbing his bare chest with his large palm. “I’ll call you ba3ad shway.”
“OK,” Jawhara agreed before they said their goodbyes and ended their conversation.

The light rain turned into a heavy shower, giving the streets outside deep acoustics. Every flap of palm leaves was heard, along with the splash of car tires against the wet streets. The grey sky darkened even more, and Jawhara basked in the gloomy mood that had taken over Kuwait. Fajer came over in her oversized sweatshirt, leggings and mukluks, carrying a box of Little Treats cupcakes and two bottles of Fuze drinks.
“Little Treaaaats!” Jawhara squealed excitedly, popping open the plastic top of the cupcake tray. “Yum, yum, YUM!”
“They better be ‘yum’; it took me 30 minutes to get them. Il-shewari3 za7ma!” Fajer frowned, plopping herself next to Jawhara on the comfy pale blue couch. Jawhara threw her favorite pink fleece blanket over Fajer’s legs as well, and picked out a chocolate cupcake with a bright green swirl of frosting. A moan of delight buzzed through Jawhara’s lips after she’d taken a bite. “These cupcakes are divine.”
“Adri, I love them! What are we watching?” Fajer turned up the muted volume of the television. Alex Trebek paced in front of three contestants and asked them questions about themselves before the first round of Jeopardy started. “Allahhh! Jeopardy! Sha5bari!”
“I know, 9a7? I love it,” Jawhara smiled and polished off the rest of the chocolate cupcake.
The girls sat together comfortably, fighting the cold that had snuck in the house from under the door. They called out answers to the Jeopardy questions, and exploded into fits of giggles every time the other got the wrong answer after guessing multiple times.
“Mita ibtadreseen?” Jawhara asked Fajer, who was texting Wahab on her phone.
“In an hour or so; laish?” Fajer replied, putting her phone down after the message was sent.
“Mbarak was saying that he wants to go study somewhere in the afternoon.. I was thinking you and Wahab could come too,” Jawhara said, picking up her ringing mobile: her mother was calling. “Aloo.. Hala mama, 9ba7 il5air!”
“9ba7 ilnoor, 7abeebti mama. Shloonich?” Jawhara’s mother spoke into the phone over Joori’s bubbly laughter echoing in the background.
“I’m OK, mama. Fajoor tawha yat 3indi, bnig3ad shway oo then she has to study,” Jawhara reached over for another cupcake.
“Laa! Gooleelha tit’3ada wiyana! 3azma rifeejti 3al ‘3ada oo yimkin tyeeb bint’ha; gilt tig3idoon wiyaha. She’s very nice.”
“Inshallah, mama; I’ll ask her and let you know,” Jawhara licked the sweet creamy frosting off the top of the vanilla cupcake.
“Inzain; please tell Rose to set the table for six people,” Jawhara’s mother smiled. “We’re almost home, bes inmur IKEA shway oo we’ll be back.”
“Inshallah, mama. I love you!” Jawhara sang into the phone.
“I love you, too, 7abeebat mama,” her mother replied, and the line disconnected.
“Shfeeha your mom?” Fajer asked, throwing her head back on the soft throw pillows that were arranged in the snug corner of the couch.
“She says stay for lunch; her friend oo her daughter are coming over oo she wants us to meet them.”
“Alright, let me just call my mom and tell her,” Fajer said as she dialed her mother’s number and told her about her lunch plans.
“Salmay 3alaiha!” Jawhara called out as she walked to the kitchen to tell Rose about the lunch guests.

Mbarak called her to warn her about the slippery streets outside, telling her it’s best not to go out at this time and to wait until the rain stopped pouring. “Shga3da tsaween?”
“Ga3da wiya Fajoor,” Jawhara beamed, “Eating cupcakes and watching Jeopardy.”
“Allahhh, a7ib Jeopardy!” Mbarak grinned, “Inzain, ana baroo7 iljam3iya real quick; bashtiri cham sha’3la.”
“What are you gonna buy?” Jawhara teased, “Deodorant? Laymoon? 5ubiz Libnani?”
Mbarak laughed out loud, grabbing his keys from his bedside table. “Close! I need to buy turkey. And Quaker.”
Jawhara made a sick noise, “Quaker, 3ad? How do you eat that stuff?”
“It’s yummy!” Mbarak tried to convince her, “I have it for breakfast wiya 7aleeb oo raisins.”
“Way, 3alaik bil3afya. Killish not into that,” Jawhara grimaced – she couldn’t stand raisins or Quaker oats, and nothing annoyed her more than the Quaker commercials on Fatafeat where they put Quaker into absolutely everything.
“Ba5aleech itjarbeena,” Mbarak laughed, “You’ll love it.”
“Yi9eer 5air,” Jawhara chuckled. “My mom’s friend oo bint’ha yayeen 3al ‘3ada, ok? I’ll call you once they leave, bes inta 6amenni 3alaik. Send me a message if you need anything. OK?”
“Sounds good; take care 7abeebti,” Mbarak sighed.
“You too, sweetheart.”
“Salmeeli 3al walid wil walda,” Mbarak said playfully. The Silverado’s ignition buzzed in the background, and a multitude of warning beeps sounded off. Tears stung Jawhara’s eyes at the mention of her father, and the awkward silence unsettled Mbarak. “Is everything ok?”
“Mbarak, my dad passed away last year,” Jawhara’s voice quivered as she tried to hold back the tears.
Mbarak’s heart panged and he felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. “Oh.. Oh, 7abeebti.. I’m so sorry. I really had no idea,” Mbarak stammered, not knowing what to say or how to comfort her. “Allah yir7ama inshallah wiyqamed roo7a iljana.”
“Ameen.. It’s ok,” Jawhara replied with a small voice. “Anyways, I’d better get going. I’ll talk to you later.”

Jawhara fought the sobs that wracked her body, but she couldn’t help buy cry a little. She missed her father – he was everything to her. Before Joori was born, she was ‘daddy’s little girl’, going with him to just about everywhere he could take her. They went to the fish market and he’d taught her how to tell if the fish was fresh and how to bargain for a better price. He would take her to the movies and to the circus, and shower her with gifts every chance he could get. Even when Jawhara was sick, he’d stay home and cancel his daily visit to the diwaniya to be by her side. But the best memories of all were in Bnaider.
Jawhara thought back to the first days when the chalet was bought, and her father would take her out to the site and watch her tumble in the sand and frolic in the sea. Even though the chalet was still brand new and didn’t have any furniture or electronics, Jawhara’s father would drive her out to the bright blue sea and sit on the sand for hours, watching her play until the sun set. That was one of the main reasons why Jawhara had become so attached to Bnaider; she knew with every step and turn, her father’s spirit was there, smiling at her and protecting her.

“Shfeech?” Fajer frowned, her sharp voice interrupting Jawhara’s thoughts.
Jawhara’s head sprang up and she tried miserably to hide the anguish in her eyes. “I just miss my dad.”
“Awww, 7abeebti,” Fajer waddled over and tightly embraced Jawhara. “Allah yir7ama. He’s always with you, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” Jawhara whispered into her friend’s shoulder. Her phone beeped with a message and she let go of Fajer’s hug to read it.
Mbarak had sent her a long text: “jawharti 7abeebti plz la tiz3eleen.. im sure its hard bes walla ana a9eerlech eli tabeena ummich ubooch u5ooch kilshay.. smile :* ana wiyach always”
A small smile formed on Jawhara’s lips as she kissed the screen of her mobile. “7abeebi,” she said out loud for the first time in a long time.
“Cuuute!” Fajer cooed. “Yalla, your mom’s here. 5al nig3ad wiyaha.”

Fajer and Jawhara snuggled next to Jawhara’s mother on the couch while Joori played with her Barbie dolls on the living room floor. They watched TV and talked, and Jawhara’s mother lovingly stroked Fajer’s and Jawhara’s hair. Not even an hour passed when the doorbell rang. Jawhara jumped up from her seat and ran upstairs, Fajer following closely behind. “Ta3alay! Wain ray7a?” Jawhara’s mother called out.
“Abadel!” Jawhara called from the top of the stairs. “Your friend is here, Mama, I’m still wearing my pajamas!”
“Lat6awleen!” her mother called back as she walked over to open the door and greet her friend.

Inside Jawhara’s room, Fajer paced around as Jawhara pulled out her favorite Juicy velour training set – it was dusty pink with black and gold graphics on the back of the hoodie and the side of the pant leg. Quickly tousling her honey-brown hair and clipping on her crystal flower studs, Jawhara made her way out of the room and down the stairs. The loud chatter of women filled the foyer, followed by smooches and pleasantries.
Fajer and Jawhara stopped halfway down the stairs in shock, and Jawhara tried her best to keep her jaw from dropping.

Zeina awoke to find the one missed call from Manaf, not knowing if she was relieved he had even called or disappointed because it was just once she threw her phone to the side and threw her pillow over her head muffling her cries of frustration. Sh…