In the Interlude

Chapter 22 - Eavesdropping

Aïcha hadn't heard from Tom until Thursday and that was okay.

She was leaving in a few days to Paris to start the next chapter of her life and had an overwhelming to-do-list to go through. Finishing her client's project and packing her own belongings and Mia's took all her time. And when she had some left, she organized the coming weeks, her own travel and that of her daughter who would be joining her later in June.

Aïcha followed ceremoniously her extensive to-do list, crossing items one after the other, as the days wore on, giving her a fleeting feeling of control, accomplishment and satisfaction.

And then, it was Thursday.

"Maman, tu es où?" Mia was home from school and was looking for her mother.

"In my office!" answered Aïcha, as she was saving the latest version of what she had been working on. 

Mia entered the room, a warm smile on her face and hugged her mum. Aïcha held her in her arms longer than usual, inhaling the scent of her daughter. Oh, I'm going to miss this. She didn't have to say anything, but Mia felt it anyway.

"You know that I'm joining you in Paris in two weeks, right?"

Mia was only thirteen but sometimes Aïcha felt as if her daughter was thirty. "Oh I know honey, it's just that I miss you already."

"I know mum."

They stayed in Aïcha's office for a moment, Mia telling her all about her day and Aïcha listening to every one of her daughter's words. 

Mia had always shared her day in detail with her mum. When she was in preschool, she would even draw pictures of everything that happened in class and during recess. She would fold them neatly into small packets that she then slipped into her parents' hands, pockets and working bags.

When Idriss passed away and Aïcha had to go through his belongings, she found a small box with all these drawings inside, still neatly folded into small packets, every single one of them. She found the box again just the day before when she was clearing her closet and she sat there, opening and touching each one of them over and over. It had opened up old wounds she naively thought she had under control.

But this wasn't the time to dwell on the past. She sighed and asked Mia if she wanted to have a snack.

"Don't worry, I'll have a banana and head to my room to do my homework."

"That sounds perfect darling. And if you need me, you know where to find me."

Three hours later, Mia was listening to her mum laying out their summer plans as they were having dinner.

Mia was staying in Casablanca with her grandparents until the end of the school year before joining her mother mid-June and moving into their old flat. Afterwards, they would travel end of June to Stockholm for a well-deserved break. In July, Mia was going to Bordeaux to spend time with her other grandparents while her mum would go to London to start her new project.

Aïcha drew in a long breath, already exhausted from her summer before it even started.

Mia looked at her mum. Sometimes, she worried about her. 

She remembered how tough it was on them when her dad had passed away. Her mum tried to hide her sorrow and hurt from her, but she wasn't fooled by any of that. Mia heard her mum cry so many nights in bed and felt she was dying herself at every tear her mum shed and tried to hide from her.

Sometimes, Mia worried about her mum. But lately, she felt that her mum was different.

Her mum smiled more often, real smiles lighting her beautiful face and bringing to life the little crinkles around her kind eyes. Sometimes, Mia would surprise her mum texting back and forth with a huge grin on her face. One time she even heard her mum speaking over the phone very late at night. It was more like whispering, almost seductively, and in English.

At first, Mia was taken aback. She never witnessed this seductive side of her mum. But she was unsure if it was really the case, and certainly didn't want to let her mum know that she overheard her speaking on the phone.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter at the end. The only thing that mattered is that her mum was changing by the day, almost happy, and for that she was grateful.

After they finished eating and clearing the table, Mia prepared herself to go sleep. When she was finally in bed, reading the last Harry Potter book, her mum came by to kiss her good night.

Aïcha went back to her office to finish packing. She paused for a moment and looked from the window. It was late in the evening, but the moon was full and bright. 

She remembered when she was little and thought, no, was convinced the moon was a parallel- earth. That the same exact life was happening on the moon just at a different time of the day. When it was the night on earth, people on the moon were living the earth's day events. And vice versa. She had spent nights and nights gazing at the sky, the moon, trying to connect with her alter-moon-ego. How innocent and naïve she was.

Tom was contemplating the same moon, wondering what Aïcha was doing. He didn't speak to her for days and was annoyed by it. The production schedule was full of early mornings and late evening filming. And Vanessa wouldn't leave him alone for a second. She tentatively invited herself over to his hotel room just the night before, the disappointment clear in her eyes when he turned her down.

He was sitting on the steps of his trailer relishing the Atlantic breeze in this warm night when he decided to call Aïcha on a whim. 

Vanessa, on her way to Tom's trailer, heard him speak before she could see him. At first, she thought he was speaking to someone but soon figured out he was on the phone ... to her, the other woman. She stood still trying to catch what Tom was saying.

"Uh-huh, same here ... Look, I wanted to apologise for not reaching out ear..."

"No no please, let me finish... I'm in Casablanca since Sunday, but it has been a crazy week. We start early and finish late. And by the time I'm back to the hotel, it's too late to call."

"I know. Aïcha ... Uh-huh, yes. Sure. About that, I know we said we'll meet on Sunday, but I'm afraid I can't. Someth..." Vanessa couldn't hear Tom finishing his sentence as the rambling of an exhausted motorcycle pierced the night air. God, she hated this city. 

By the time she could hear Tom again, they had moved to another topic. She could clearly hear his flirtatious tone, and that made her jealous.

"Ehehehe," he laughed at something the other woman said. She could picture Tom, head back, eyes closed, his tongue peeking through his teeth.

"That doesn't mean we can't see each other," he continued, "come with me to the party on Saturday. Would you?"

Wait. Was he inviting her to their wrap party?

"Well you know me, "said Tom hastily and then added after a few seconds, "sure, I understand..." It looks like she was not coming to the party after all, Vanessa told herself sighing in relief. She decided she had heard enough and walked away not waiting for the end of the conversation, unaware that she just missed the most important part.

They were meeting in Paris.