“I wish you’d told me you’d be here,” she said primly. One rule they’d had since Imani was born was to always let the other one know where they were—down to what city, at least. It was necessary when they both traveled so much, and often in areas with political unrest or natural disasters. Anil leaving Washington and flying to Amsterdam without letting Jana know was against their arrangement.
“It was very last-minute,” Anil repeated. “I only got here late yesterday. And, like I said, I wanted to surprise Imani.” He grinned at Imani again, then looked at Jana. “I want to be here for her first trip to Tanzania, and if I told you in advance, I knew you’d make…that face.”
Jana tried to wipe off whatever face Anil claimed she was making. He was right, though. Although both Jana and Anil were born and raised in North America (Jana in Canada, Anil in the US), their parents, like many of the older generation in their South Asian Ismaili Muslim community, were originally from East Africa. Jana’s parents and Anil’s father were from Tanzania. The country was as sentimental for Anil as it was for Jana, and it was only fair he be there when his daughter saw it for the first time.
But still. She had not signed up for two weeks of traveling with the inconveniently handsome face of one of the small handful of men she’d slept with, and frankly, she was irritated at the bride and groom for springing this on her.
She had no idea how she was going to get through this trip now.
Chapter 4
Mommy, can I have Daddy’s gum for my ears?”
Jana blinked at her daughter. They were only one hour into the long flight from Amsterdam, and Jana could already tell Imani would be trying her patience again. Jana was sitting in a row with Imani on one side of her and Mom on the other. Kamila and Rohan were in the row in front of them, sitting with Kassim Uncle, Kamila’s father. Anil, Kamila’s sister, Shelina, and Rohan’s brother, Zayan, were in the seats in front of Kamila. This arrangement worked well for Jana because she couldn’t see Anil at all—not even the back of his head. It was less satisfactory for Imani, who wanted to be closer to her father.
“I have gum. Are your ears hurting?” Jana picked up her purse from under the seat in front of her.
Imani thought about that for a second. “No. I need Daddy’s gum.”
Jana pulled out a packet of mint gum and held it up.
“I like Daddy’s gum.”
Jana sighed. She reached between the seats in front of her and poked Kamila. “Can you ask Anil if he has gum?”
“What do you need, beta?” Jana’s mother asked Imani, taking off her large headphones. Mom had found a Gujarati soap opera on the in-flight entertainment and had been engrossed since takeoff.
“I want Daddy’s gum,” Imani said.
“I have gum,” Mom said, unzipping her bag.
Kamila turned so she could see Imani between the two seats. “So do I. Three kinds.”
“I want Daddy’s gum,” Imani repeated.
Jana looked at her daughter. Imani was rarely demanding, but…traveling was stressful for small children. And stressful for mothers who desperately wanted to pretend the fathers of those small children weren’t hurtling through the air in the same airplane as her.
“Do you want to ask him yourself, Imani?” Kamila asked. “I can see if Zayan Uncle will switch seats with me, and then I can switch seats with you. Then you can sit with your daddy. I need to talk to your mommy, anyway. How does that sound?”
Imani beamed, nodding happily at the option of sitting next to her daddy. They ended up doing a lot more shuffling than that because Mom chimed in saying she wanted to sit with Kassim Uncle so they could discuss the Gujarati soap, then Rohan said he wanted to talk to Jana, too. After annoying every non-Hussain-Nasser wedding guest on the plane, Jana found herself sitting with Kamila on one side of her and Rohan on the other. Imani was two seats ahead with her father.
“You’re mad at us, aren’t you?” Rohan asked Jana once they were all settled.
Jana shook her head. “Why would I be mad at you? Imani is happy to sit next to Anil.”
Kamila frowned. Completely in character, Kamila was wearing a pink shirt so bright Jana considered taking her sunglasses out of her bag. Uncharacteristic, though, was the fact that it was asweatshirt, and on it was an illustration of Godzilla wearing a bridal veil. Kamila was normally a blouse or vintage dress kind of woman. She looked gorgeous as always, though, with her long, wavy dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and her lips painted a perfect fuchsia.
She immediately handed Jana a slightly paler pink T-shirt. “Here’s your hashtag Bridal Brigade shirt.”
Jana held up the shirt that was printed with the word#BRIDALBRIGADE. Jana had seen the rest of the bridal party wearing these in the airport. Shrugging, she pulled the shirt over the navy long-sleeve she was wearing. She’d agreed to be in the wedding, so if it meant wearing Day-Glo pink, so be it.
“That color isstunningon you. You should wear it more often,” Kamila said. “You’re mad we didn’t tell you that Anil would be here, aren’t you?”
Jana shrugged. “Did you see how happy Imani was at the airport?”
Kamila sighed heavily. “We were asking aboutyou. Of course Imani’s happy. She’s such a daddy’s girl. I relate.”
Jana exhaled. “I’m fine. Don’t even worry about it.”
