Chapter 11
Kamal...
(McDonalds)It's been a few days since my talk with Jameel in his bathroom and he is slowly but surely beginning to understand and deal with the uncustomary weirdness that surrounds my family. I couldn't be prouder of my parents and my siblings in taking their time to let Jameel adjust to his new sense of freedom and his new surroundings.
Farooq and Hamid decided to stay for another few weeks rather than rushing back to the states. They delegated most of the day to day office activities to their corporate staff. They took care of the larger responsibilities and opted to oversee their multiple business dealings via teleconference from our father's study. My dad won't admit it, but he was prouder than a peacock to have us all at home and working side by side.
He had even rushed to have one of the sitting rooms transformed into another office so that Farrah and I had our own area to work away from the buzzing telephones, video chats, and pings of computer's stock market software that constantly alerts my brothers with real time updates of the El-Sayed millions of dollars worth in investments.
In my opinion, I think my old man was going through something close to empty nest syndrome with all of us never being in one place at the same time for any length of time. Especially here in the Saudi's capital city, Riyadh. He's happier than a bug in a rug to have all of us at home. He seemed to take delight with all of our noise and fussing, our play fighting and even our not so good natured squabbling, although we have been keeping all of our usual boisterousness under wraps for Jameel's sake. We would probably scare him half to death if we truly decided to act up as we usually do.
When I found about Jameel's morning routine, I found it so adorable. He would wake up at the crack of dawn before anyone else in the house, and he would take a long hot bubble bath and groom himself until everything was silky smooth, from his luminescent skin to his luxurious locks. It was like it gave him the greatest of pleasure just to be able to do these things and I would tease him about it if it wasn't so heartbreaking the reason behind his delight in doing something as simple as taking bubble bath. Things people take for granted everyday.
I've had the housekeepers stock his bathroom with all kinds of scented bath oils and soaps ordered directly from Morocco. His lotions and other personal moisturizing creams Farrah ordered from one of her suppliers from Sweden, and from the way his skin gleamed and the shine radiating off his thick waves, Jameel was thoroughly enjoying pampering himself with the decadent products.
My day started like any other, Farooq and Hamid woke me up in the usual rude manner of jumping on my bed and harassing me. Once our morning tradition was observed we parted ways to go get ready to face the day. I would take a detour from going straight to the dining room and slap Hamid's hand away from the table. He never failed to try to finish Mommy's pastries before I could get my share, but I had to retrieve Jameel. He would be sitting patiently on his perfectly made bed waiting for me.
The only thing that Jameel has refused to budge on was his abaya (robe). I couldn't seem to get him to part with it. My brother's and I have all tried to explain to him that it was a female's garment. We tried everything to get him to wear everything from custom fitted slacks and natural cotton button down shirts to jeans and t-shirts. We even tried traditional thobe which was similar to his abaya but he refused and went right back to the swirling shapeless black robes, and when he was having a bad day his niqab (veil) would make an appearance too.
Yasmin cautioned me that his robes were what was familiar to him and they were like his security blanket. She also informed me that due to all the scarring on his body from his injuries, he feels more secure wearing his abayas. The thobe was more appropriate, as the male customary garment, but Jameel would most likely connect the garment to what our grandfather most likely would have worn in his presence. So Farrah, ever the fashionista had several in types, "more masculine," abayas made just for his specific measurements. He had plain cotton ones, embroidered silken ones, and some new breathable type fabric she's been experimenting with.
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