Gemini

8 - FADILA

FADILA

We checked into the hospital a few days ago because Layla got sick. The doctor says she has- or had- a fever, she's doing much better and we might be going home soon.

"Hello, Zaida" I say as soon as she picked up the phone.

"Yeah" she answered.

"I won't make it to pick-up on time; can you get the twins when you get Zaina and Zuhra?"

"Yeah, of course"

"Thank you" I hang up the phone, just then my stomach growls.

Zaid is coming in a few minutes so I text him to get some food for me.

"Maama" I hear her little cry, she sits up and holds her hand out to me. I stand up and walk over to her; I sit beside her and move her to my lap.

"Maama, food" she says "Da'am" she says again.

Just then the nurse comes in with the tray of food for her lunch.

"Look, habibti, food" I say pointing to the tray with the nurse as she came closer.

Layla quiets down for a few seconds. When she plops the tray on the bed in front of us Layla starts crying again.

"No want" she cries.

"Please just try it" I plead with her moving the spoon of tiny macaroni closer to her mouth.

"No" she hits my hand and the spoon falls to the ground.

"I'll get it" the nurse says and I thank her.

"Do you want the pudding?"

"No maama" I guess we've found someone's favorite word is.

"What else can she eat?" I ask

"Any protein really" she simply says.

"Okay thanks" I reply.

Before she takes the tray away I take the chocolate milk off it. Maybe she will drink this.

I shake it and open it up and give it to her. She takes it and I'm glad, I quickly text Zaid to buy mashed potatoes on his way over here.

After some minutes Zaid arrives. I am so relieved.

He says salaam before he enters.

"Baaba" Layla lights up when she sees Zaid.

"How is daddy's princess?" he coos pulling her onto his lap and tickling her lightly.

I pick up the bag take out her shakes and fries and hand it to Zaid to feed it to her.

I devour my burger within minutes and sit and sip my orange juice with Zaid opposite me. Layla is asleep, finally.

After some meaningless small talk the discussion of Ramadan comes up and after much deliberation we decide to go to Nigeria since the boys have only been once since they were born.

We spend the next half hour deciding when to go, we finally decide on a date.

It feels like forever before the doctor checks my baby for the last time and then finally discharges us.

It's almost three o'clock when I decide to call Zaida and make sure the boys are behaving, just then my phone rang.

It's the boys' teacher.

"Hello, Fadila" she says.

"Yes, Miss. David"

"I was wondering when you were planning on coming for your boys" judgment clear in her voice.