He nodded sharply at that. “I’ll be busy today. I have a few things to do with my family since I’ve been gone so long, but maybe tomorrow? I can take you up to Entoto Mountain—we can go for a hike and have lunch up there.”
“That sounds good,” I said, a bit disappointed that there was no mention of activities we could do in private, and then reminded myself he’d already take a huge risk by coming up here with me tonight.
I pulled on the lapel of his jacket and brought him down for one last kiss. “I have plans to see an old friend of my mom’s today. She wants to go swimming at the Marquis. I’ve heard it’s quite the place.”
He nodded as he nuzzled my neck, making me want to jump him all over again. “It’s very nice. The food is overpriced, but it’s definitely a good place to spend the day relaxing.” He turned to unlock the door. “Tomorrow then. I’ll text you later to set a time.”
I nodded and tried my best not to sound too whiny. “I’ll see you then.”
For a minute, we just stood there looking at each other. I wondered if, like me, he was feeling like we were about the burst the bubble. That once he left we’d be in the morning-after weirdness—the doubt, the secrecy, and the bullshit which would surely follow what we’d started tonight.
Neither of us said anything though, and I stood there shivering as he slipped out of the room and down the stairs, barely making a sound.
When I got back in bed, I wrapped myself in the sheets and pressed the pillow he’d been sleeping on to my face. The ache of not having him next to me felt too big, and I was too tired to think about how I’d complicated things for myself again.
I couldn’t go back to sleep after Elias left, and was wide awake at six a.m. Thinking that with the time difference it would only be after ten in the Ithaca, I decided to Skype my mom. I sent her a message on chat asking if she was up. She said yes right away and I instantly felt guilty, knowing she’d been waiting on me to call for weeks.
I opened the Skype app, and within a few seconds her face appeared on the screen. She seemed tired, but she had a big smile on her face. She’d gotten a pixie cut last year, which made her look sort of elfish, and despite everything, seeing her was comforting.
“Hey Mamí. ¿En qué estás?” I asked, trying to distract her from what I was sure were bleary eyes and sex hair.
She frowned and reached to touch the screen. “Hola, mijo, I was worried about you. Other than a few emails and that two-minute call when you got there, I hadn’t heard from you. Are you in Addis?”
I’d emailed or texted her every other day since I’d gotten here, but my dad had died here on a job similar to the one I was doing. Granted, his death had nothing to do with the work or being in Ethiopia, but still I knew she would get anxious.
“Mamí, I’ve been in way more remote places than this, and you know Ethiopia is very safe. I emailed you the day before yesterday to tell you we were coming back to Addis and that I was fine.”
She flipped her hand like an email every few days was not nearly enough. “I know, but the roads can be dangerous and they’re so narrow. I worry!”
I shook my head and tried not to get on her case about her assuming nothing had changed in the more than two decades since she’d been here. “Mamí, that was like twenty years ago! The roads are fine. We got back without so much as a flat tire. The logistics coordinator for the project drove me, and he was a driver for the embassy for years. He’s also the most responsible person on earth.” My stomach lurched from the mere mention of Elias.
This seemed to appease my mother, though, and her face relaxed somewhat. “Oh good, I’m happy to hear you’re with a good driver. Although I’m not surprised.” She sighed wistfully and looked up like she was recalling a memory. “We had such good years there. Met so many wonderful people.” After another sigh, she perked up. “Did you see Saba yet?”
I rolled my eyes at her question. “¡No, mujer, ya te dije! Like I mentioned in my email, I’ll see her today. I wasn’t sure how late we’d get back yesterday and didn’t want to cancel on her.”
“Okay, mijo,” she said, smiling wide at the mention of her friend. Saba had been my mom’s best friend when they lived here, and their friendship had not only survived, but thrived in the years since. Saba worked for the United Nations, and growing up I saw her almost every year when she’d go for meetings in New York City. She would always invite my mom and me to stay with her for the weekend, and we would take the bus from Ithaca to see her.
Those weekends with Saba were some of the best memories I had with my mom. Saba was a loyal friend to my family and, after my dad died, the only person other than my grandparents my mom and I could talk to who understood how hard it was for us without him.
Saba was a warrior, the kind of woman I sometimes wished my mom could be. So fierce, nothing brought her low. When Dennis, her husband, died a few years back, she’d told us not to come for the funeral, that she’d rather meet us in Germany. She said Dennis would’ve loved for her to take a holiday in his
