Kamila nodded, saying a silent prayer herself.
“It was lucky Jana went home, although this must be hard for her,” Anil said. “She knew what to do. She once mentioned she was there when her father took ill. He died of heart failure, didn’t he?”
“Yes. And my mother died of a heart attack.”
“I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry, Kamila.” He squeezed her knee. “Hang in there. I’ll get you there soon.”
They pulled up to the hospital ten minutes later. She texted Jana that they were there and got a quick response that she was in the emergency department, but Dad had been taken back for an EKG.
“I’ll leave you to be with your family,” Anil said as he pulled up next to the door. “If there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Thank you, Anil. I appreciate the ride.”
He paused, eyeing her intently. “You know, Kamila, I hope this doesn’t come out wrong, but I’ve never met a family with such a loyal support system as you and your father. People fight over each other to help you. And you’re both so loyal to your friends. Anyone in your circle is lucky to be there. You are blessed.”
She sure didn’t feel blessed right now.
Kamila found Jana almost folded into herself in one of those terrible metal chairs in the ER waiting room.
As worried as Kamila was about her father, and as much as Jana was the furthest from her favorite person right now, she conceded Anil’s point—thishadto be hard for Jana, too. Jana’s father had died two years before Kamila’s mother. Kamila knew only a handful of people who had been through this experience, and maybe it was good that one of them had been there for Dad tonight.
Jana stood. “Kamila. The doctor hasn’t come out to see me yet, but they took him in for tests a while ago.”
Kamila sat in the empty chair next to Jana. Jana sat back down.
“What exactly happened?” Kamila asked.
“He was obviously in pain when I got home. He kept saying it was just heartburn. But he was sweaty and pale…I wanted to be safe.” Her voice cracked. “And then he got really worked up on the way here.”
He was probably terrified. Kamila should have been with him. “He has a panic disorder.”
Jana lifted her head to look at Kamila. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”
Most people didn’t know. Mental illness, especially affecting grown, respected men, wasn’t exactly something people talked about in their community. Kamila closed her eyes for a moment, then rubbed her temples. “How’s your mother?”
“She’s worried. She texted eight times since I got here. She’s not alone, though. Some friends stayed with her at home. Your father is her closest friend. She’d be lost without him.”
Dad felt the same way about Rashida Aunty. It was funny—last year Kamila wondered if the two of them should consider taking their friendship to the next level. They were both widowed and were closer than most male/female unrelated people of their age in their community. Dad put Kamila in her place immediately, though. “She’s my best friend’s wife. She is my sister.”
Now it made Kamila wonder what their lives would have been like if things had been different. What if Kamila had had a mother who supported her the way Rashida Aunty supported Jana? Would Kamila have been more of a high achiever? More respectable?
What would have happened if Kamila and Jana had been friendlier growing up? What if they had been sisters?
But it was a waste of time to entertain what-ifs. There were so many variables, and it was impossible to change the past, anyway. The one thing she was glad for right now was that Jana cared about Dad. Enough to be sitting here in the emergency room, so worried she was tapping her leg furiously on the linoleum floor.
“Thank you,” Kamila said. “For getting him to the hospital. For looking out for him.”
“Your father is my favorite uncle. Always has been.”
Kamila smiled sadly. “Your father was my favorite.” It was true—of the three men who’d started HNS, Jana’s father and Kamila’s father were the most similar. Sweet, kind, generous souls. Rohan’s father was more like Rohan. Buttoned-up corporate shark but with a heart of gold under that perfect tie. Kamila’s chest tightened.
They sat quietly for a while. Waiting. Bearing witness to each other’s pain.
The wait was a hair long enough to get awkward when a nurse called out, “Hussein? Hussein family?”
Kamila stood quickly. “That’s us.”
“You can come back. The doctor will speak to you.”
