We got busy with the business of settling into a long flight, stowing luggage, getting the things we’d need, and chatting with other passengers. Soon they were announcing that the plane was closed and we were next for takeoff.
I placed the complimentary blanket over our laps and looked for Elias’s hand under it. He clutched it tight and brought our intertwined hands out from under the covers, placing them right where everyone could see. I looked around worriedly, but he shook his head.
“No more hiding.”
I nodded, my throat tightening. The plane taxied out before I could find my voice, and within seconds we were airborne.
Elias never let go of my hand.
I sat there waiting for the lights to go out, as if that were the sign, the confirmation this was actually happening.
As soon as they did, I turned around and pressed my face to his cheek. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
He turned so that our lips were pressed to each other, and he mouthed the words.
Eshi, konjo.
Epilogue
New York City
August
“You’re going to be late for your first day of class,” I yelled from the kitchen.
After a few seconds Elias stepped out from our bedroom, looking delicious in a red T-shirt and jeans, his feet still bare. I smiled when I looked down at the “coffee bean” on his toe.
“If we’re late, it’s because someone woke up wanting to do things to me,” he said playfully, and put his arms around my waist.
I shivered, remembering how many things I’d done to him this morning, right before he returned the favor.
Sometimes it still felt like a dream that we were here. That five months ago we’d left Ethiopia together and now were living in New York City.
As soon as we’d landed, it was as though our lives had never been separate. We’d gotten into the sublet Lucía found us, which we eventually took over because Norma’s brother had decided to stay in Madrid for another year. We loved our little studio, and our neighborhood. Elias had gotten on great with Lucía and Moe, and loved working with his advisor. As for me, I had my first MSW class in the afternoon downtown at NYU, but before that I was going to my job as a counselor for an agency working with homeless LGBTQ youth. I loved everything about my job and could not wait to start my classes.
Elias squeezed me tight as he nosed my hair. “What are you thinking, konjo?”
“That I’m really fucking happy right now. Like ‘pinch me, play the lotto’ levels of happy.”
He gave me that amused expression he sometimes had when I said something very farenji-sounding, and kissed me as he moved to get some coffee.
He passed me a mug and we stood there sipping our coffee and grinning at each other before we heard the ring from a Whatsapp call coming from Elias’s phone. He grabbed it and smiled as he tapped on the screen.
“Is it your mom?”
He nodded and waved me over to where he was standing. I pressed in close to him and looked at her smiling face on the screen. “I wanted to wish you good luck in your first day. Both of you. We’re so proud of you, Eli.”
“Amaseganallo, Mama.” His voice was full of emotion as he thanked her.
I nodded at her and did the same. “Thank you. We’re excited to start.”
She nodded at us with watery eyes as Elias’s dad waved from his spot on the couch. Elias had returned home on his own over the summer, and that visit seemed to have made things easier with his parents. Over the past few months, communication with them had gotten more and more comfortable, and these days, most of the calls involved easy smiles and lots of teasing about Elias’s new American life.
“Call me tomorrow to tell me how it went, Eli. You, too, Desta.”
We both agreed and said our goodbyes. Soon we were grabbing our bags and heading out the door. We walked out to a sunny summer day in Manhattan. It was only seven thirty in the morning, but humidity was probably at a hundred percent already. I was sweating by the time we took our first step onto the pavement, hand in hand. We walked the two blocks to the train together as we always did, and once again I could barely believe this was my life.
We got to the corner and moved to the side so we could say goodbye. I would take the train a few stops uptown to 161st Street, and he’d go across the street to catch the downtown one to 116th. Like he did every day, Elias grabbed my face and kissed me goodbye.
“Have a good day. See you at home, konjo.”
As I stood at the entrance to the subway, I turned around to look at him one more time, and called out as he crossed the street, “Eshi, love.”
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Author’s Note
My partner and I moved to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia only a couple of months after we got married. We were there for a year and then returned when our daughter was just a few months old, and lived there until she was three. Just like Desta’s father I consider Ethiopia the homeland of my heart.
We met friends there that became family, and we learned to love that country and its people with a deep passion. The beauty and history of Ethiopia are unmatched, and almost ten years after leaving it, I still miss it. This book is my love
