Jana didn’t know what to say. Part of her believed Rohan, but it terrified her to think that Anil could care that much. It also terrified her to think that he might not.
“Jana, what do you want from him?” Kamila asked.
Jana shrugged. Then took a long sip of her chai. She honestly didn’t know.
“I think you have a lot of thinking to do,” Rohan said.
Later, when she knew he’d be at his gate waiting for his flight, Jana texted Anil.
Jana:I didn’t see you before you left.
Anil:Did you need to? I said goodbye to Imani.
Jana had no idea what to say to that. It was clear that he didn’t really want to talk. After she stared blankly at her phone for a few seconds, another message came through.
Anil:I’ll let you know when I’m in D.C.
She exhaled. She’d asked him for space, and maybe he wanted the same thing.
Jana:Okay. Have a safe trip home.
Anil:You too.
The trip home tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. Jana was about done with Tanzania.
Chapter 24
Shockingly, Mom apologized to Jana for her gross judgmental comments before they boarded their flight at Kilimanjaro Airport the next day. It wasn’t a long apology, but Jana supposed it was better than nothing.
“And I’m sorry for exploding, too,” Jana said. “I was…stressed.”
“Nah, beta. It’s fine. We can move on, okay?” Mom patted Jana’s arm.
Jana was pretty sure “move on” meant sweep the issue under the rug in true Suleiman-family fashion, but Jana was okay with that. She didn’t really want a long conversation about their lack of a mother/daughter relationship in public, anyway. They didn’t speak about it again for the rest of the trip back home. They didn’t really speak about anything at all. Mom was the same, happily chatting with her friends and being a little annoying about making sure Jana and Imani had enough to eat. Jana just read her book.
After getting home, Jana pretty much did nothing but sleep and laundry for a few days. Imani bounced back to Toronto time easily, but jet lag was kicking Jana’s ass, so she relied on autopilot.
Despite wishing she could put off dealing with her problems until her body caught up with the time zone, Jana did apologize to Dr. Lopez as soon as she was home. He was a kind man—and Jana was a professional. It was possible he didn’t think less of her after everything that happened in Arusha, but Jana needed to set things right. In an email to his Think address, Jana apologized for not coming clean about her marital history the moment she’d discovered Mom had told him that Jana was divorced. She apologized for her mother’s boasting, and she assured him that her mother had no idea he had interviewed Jana, so none of that was an attempt to influence him. Finally, she apologized for her outburst on the last day of the trip. She also admitted she wasn’t really a people person and that all those wedding events were way out of her comfort zone. And she shared that she and Anil weren’t really friends.
She added that she knew that this wasn’t a good way to start a professional relationship—and she understood if he wanted her to step away from her application at Think. There would be no hard feelings at all, and she would wish him and Think Canada well for the future.
She didn’t get a response. And she had no idea if she was still in the running for the job.
Jana busied herself after that by getting everything ready for the start of Imani’s school year in a few months. Her daughter needed new clothes, shoes, a book bag, and other school supplies.
Mostly, Jana admitted to herself, this was busywork so she wouldn’t think too much. Because she’d prefer to avoid thinking, or overthinking, right now. When Jana stopped focusing on how many pairs of sneakers Imani would need, or on how to make an Instagram-worthy bento lunch for a four-year-old in less than fifteen minutes, or if ergonomic backpacks for four-year-olds were a thing, her mind wandered to where she preferred it wouldn’t go.
Like wondering if she could have hacked it as a director at Think anyway. Or if Imani’s social and intellectual development would be on par with her classmates at school. Or if not hiring someone because they lied about their marital status or because they pretended to be an extrovert was discrimination.
Or even worse, she’d think about Anil.
Because when she lay awake at night, her mind was a continuous loop of Anil. It wasn’t just replaying that night in Hatari when he’d taken her places she’d honestly forgotten were possible (although that particular reel was on replay often), but other memories of the two weeks they’d traveled together in Africa. Like when he lifted her in his arms in the Serengeti after she tripped on dung. His expression when he showed Imani that first elephant in Ngorongoro. When they’d put their hands out together to encourage Imani to jump into the pool at Manyara. When they’d watched that sunrise together in the tent in Tarangire. She almost wished he’d done at least one horrible thing so she’d remember that she was supposed to dislike the guy.
He’d, of course, texted Jana when he arrived in Washington. Just a short message on the parenting app to let her know where he was. And he’d FaceTimed Imani with his parents the day after Jana and Imani got home, so Imani could tell her dadima and dadabapa all about her trip. Jana had said a quick hello, but that was it. They were still giving each other space.
Jana spent some time looking for new jobs, too. But prospects in her field were few and far between. There was definitely nothing else in Toronto right now.
Feeling dejected, Jana headed into the kitchen on Thursday afternoon to get a snack. Imani was in the corner, reading a book about animals to her dolls. Or rather, making up a story based on the pictures.
