Jana tilted her head. “Itisimportant because it’s not true.”
“What difference does it make?” Mom asked. “It was so long ago.”
“It makes a difference because now that aunty who studies divorce will ask me questions!” And the aunty’s partner was currently considering Jana for a director of research and programs position. But Jana couldn’t say that to Mom—it would make everything even more awkward. Also, she’d hate to see what all the aunties and uncles would do to the poor man if Janadidn’tget the job. They’d run him out of the family all over again. “Why did you even say it?”
“They were talking about their daughter’s wedding and asked me what your wedding was like. It’s not a big deal—just play along. Who could it hurt? Come on, beta…Do this one thing for me.”
Mom had a pleading look in her eyes. And Jana had a lot of difficulty not giving in to it. What would Mom do if Jana broke her bubble?
“Mom, did you forget that Anil is here at the wedding?”
Mom cringed. “I thought he wasn’t coming when I met Sam and Farzana last week.”
True. No one knew he was coming.
They were interrupted at that moment by Elsie, handing Jana and her mom key cards and telling them that their room was in the east wing and that their luggage was being brought there now.
It was late. Jana was tired. And Imani, who was still dozing in the armchair in the lobby, needed to be in a bed.
“Don’t say anything more to anyone,” Jana said. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.” Jana scooped her daughter into her arms and took her to their room. Mom was apparently staying in the hotel lounge to gossip some more. Hopefully not about Jana.
When she got to their room, Jana pushed out all her thoughts about Mom, Dr. Lopez, and Anil Malek so she could focus on getting Imani cleaned and into bed. Imani was both worked up and exhausted, and her nightly bedtime routine took longer than usual. When Imani was finally tucked in, Jana lay with her daughter, stroking her hair and humming softly to help her sleep.
Jana was so torn about what to do. She knew she should tell Dr. Lopez the truth, that she was never technically married. It was a tiny, inconsequential lie, but even a small lie was ill-advised when she wanted to show the man she had integrity and maturity and would be a good addition to his team.
But also…what difference could it make? This was herpersonallife—and itshouldn’thave any bearing on her employability. And there was a possibility that Dr. Lopez’s knowing the truth about Imani’s conception could hurt Jana’s chances at getting this job. Jana was confident in her abilities in her field, but Kamila’s assurance to Dr. Lopez that Jana was in high demand wasn’t anywhere close to Jana’s reality lately.
Jana wrapped one of her daughter’s curls around her fingers. She didn’t think of herself as a particularly saintly person, but she was aware that others saw her that way—or at least they used to. It was partially because Jana was bookish, excelled academically, and had never been a party girl. But it was also because of her line of work. International development was a field for people who wanted to change the world. To level the planet’s inequalities. It was also sometimes a field for people who took their faith seriously and who saw it as a higher calling. Jana wasn’t particularly religious, but she was used to working with colleagues who were. And she was used to others projecting good and wholesome qualities onto people in development. But Jana’s saintly reputation had been crushed like a dung beetle under an elephant’s foot when Imani was born. She ran her hand over Imani’s head, listening to her daughter’s slow breathing.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise that some in her field turned against her. She knew what her industry was like. But Jana had been a little idealistic—she’d honestly thought people wouldn’t care about her personal life and would focus on her professional accomplishments instead. And most did. But not all.
When the major donor of a project learned Jana had had a baby with a married man, he threatened to pull funding if she continued to lead the project. Eventually, the board of directors decided that Dr. Jana Suleiman being the face of the project was more of a liability to funding than an asset, despite her skills, education, and experience.
Jana didn’t know if Dr. Lopez would feel the same way as that donor. Signs pointed to no—Kamila and Rohan both said he was a good man. Jana could see that he was very professional. The fact that Dr. Lopez reminded Jana so much of her father didn’t mean the man felt the same way as her mother did and how Jana assumed her father would have felt—that the circumstances around Imani’s birth were a disgrace.
Jana watched Imani’s long lashes fluttering as her lips pursed in sleep, then quietly got out of the dark wood bed and closed the mosquito net around it to keep her daughter safe. Mom hadn’t come to the room yet. She was probably still chatting away in the lobby. Hopefully not telling any more lies about Jana.
Their suite was impressive. Two bedrooms—Jana and Imani’s with two double beds and Mom’s with a queen bed—plus a little sitting room. The decor was similar to the rest of the luxury hotel—tasteful and understated elegance with a definite African art theme. The walls were clean white, and the flooring was dark tile. It was all comfortably luxurious.
Jana had traveled so much for work but rarely stayed in places like this. She’d spent so much time working to lift people up economically that she felt guilty being surrounded by this opulence knowing the social challenges around her. How much could the money being spent on this wedding have helped the region? She’d bet they could have funded a new maternal health clinic instead. But this was Kamila and Rohan’s wedding, and Jana knew they had picked this particular resort because it was known as a generous employer for locals, and it sponsored nearby development projects. Plus, Kamila and Rohan donated to projects in East Africa and in other areas. Tourism was an important part of the economy here, but Jana still felt a little strange.
A large gift bag on the dresser caught Jana’s eye. She opened the note attached.
To Jana and Imani: Thanks for being a part of our celebration! Love having you on our team, and love you both to the moon and back! Kamila and Rohan
Inside were two backpacks. The little Lion King one was filled with a set of children’s binoculars, baby sunscreen, some candy, some books about safari animals, and a tan wide-brimmed hat. The larger adult backpack was in a weathered gray canvas and had#BRIDALBRIGADEembroidered in pink on the lower right corner. It also contained binoculars, a tan hat, and sunscreen, as well as vitamin C tablets, bug repellent, electrolyte powder, some stomach medicine, Tylenol, lip balm, a bikini in Jana’s size, and a kanga—an East African wrap made of brightly printed cotton. Plus, a full box of condoms. Jana snorted at the condoms. It was a thoughtful bridesmaid gift, though.
She read the note again.Love having you on our team. Dr. Lopez also said he was looking for a team player. Had Jana ever been that?
Dr. Lopez would be seeing Jana at her worst on this trip—at her lowest professional confidence and, honestly, her lowest social confidence. He thought she was a vibrant team player. Why would he hirethis?
The last job Jana had interviewed for had gone to a woman who was young, bubbly, intelligent, and so nice that it was impossible for Jana to resent her. That womanwasvibrant. Dynamic. She stood out.
There was a time, long ago, when Jana had thought she stood out—with her fellowship at Cambridge. Her scholarships. She’d pitched countless development projects over the years. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t, but she’d never given up without trying. Jana may not have always fit in with others, but she used to excel at faking it. She used totry.
Maybe her personal issues with Anil were seeping into her professional life. She knew she was still much too bitter about him and the past. Seeing him here on this trip solidified it for Jana—it was long past time for her to get over Anil Malek. She needed to move on from her anger, bitterness, and her regret over what happened. Imani was only four. They had years of co-parenting left. And as their child grew, they would have to work together even more if they wanted her to continue to thrive.
Jana needed to move on. She couldn’t bevibrantif she was always angry. But she didn’t knowhowto get over it.
