CONNECTED HEARTS

9: "Love on the Menu"

Kaltoom's POV

I finished my prayers and headed downstairs to grab a snack, but my mind kept wandering back to the call I had to make to Mr. Ego. Laila had conveniently saved his number in my phone, and I begrudgingly dialed it, hesitating over whether to actually call or not. What would I say to him, anyway? I wasn't exactly thrilled about this whole situation. Just as I was about to give up, I dropped the phone on my bed and decided to grab some cookies and water instead. But before I could even sit down, my phone started beeping. To my surprise, it was none other than Mr. Ego himself calling me. Guess fate had other plans!

I couldn't believe I wasn't ready to talk to him, yet here I was, freaking out! I picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and sat down on the bed, crossing my legs like a Buddhist. I cleared my throat, hoping to sound composed. "Asalam Alaikum," I greeted, remembering my mom's advice to always start with the Islamic greeting. It was supposed to make a good impression, after all. His calm voice replied, "Waalaikumus salam." I couldn't deny that his soothing tone was kind of nice to listen to. But before I could process that thought, the line went silent for a moment. Then he spoke up, his words tinged with a hint of expectation: "You could have at least called to check if I reached home safely?"

"Seriously, why would I do that? What are we, dating?" I thought to myself, rolling my eyes. "Well, I didn't feel the need to. I'm pretty sure your attitude can take you home safely," I shot back, trying to keep my tone light. He was quiet for a minute before responding, "Alright, good then..." But I didn't let him finish. "Uhm, thanks for the stuff! Ammi said to tell you that," I said quickly. All I got in response was a hum, and then he hung up. Just like that. I was left staring at the phone, annoyed. "Seriously? How rude!" I muttered to myself. "I'm never gonna talk to this guy again. Sorry, Laila, but I just can't!" I was fuming, my mood completely ruined. Who did he think he was, anyway? A simple "thank you" and he just hums and hangs up? Unbelievable.

I picked up my cookies and crunched on them, venting my frustration on the innocent treats. Once I was done, I headed straight to the kitchen, hoping to find some comfort food. The parlor was empty, so I assumed Ammi was in her room. As I opened the warmers, the aromatic smell of chicken curry wafted out, making my stomach growl with hunger. I hadn't eaten anything decent since afternoon. And to my delight, the other warmer had coconut rice – my favorite! "Oh my Allah, I love Ammi so much!" I thought to myself. I scooped out a generous portion of food, making sure to get more chicken curry than rice. I grabbed a pack of fruit juice and headed to the dining area, ready to indulge in my late-night feast.

"Subhanallahi!! Yaya, you scared me!" I exclaimed, nearly dropping my plate as I caught sight of Yaya Farouk sitting in the dining area, looking tired with his legs crossed. "When did you get here?" I asked, still shaken. "A minute ago," he replied, "Where's Ammi? When did you get back home? Sorry I couldn't come pick you up, I was stuck up with some work," he rattled off, running his hands through his curls. I answered his questions and sat down to eat, calling out to the cook to serve him his dinner.
After the cook served Yaya Farouk his dinner, Ammi joined us, and we chatted together until I started feeling sleepy. I bid them goodnight and headed to my room, where I prayed Isha and went through my nighttime routine. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I drifted off to sleep, exhausted. I guess all the drama with Mr. Ego had taken it out of me, because I was out cold in no time!

____________