Now, Alice quickly composes a message to Antoinette: Would love to stop by for tea, thank you for the invitation. Would 1:15 p.m. work for you at all?
Antoinette replies in minutes and their date is set. Alice can barely contain her excitement. She is meeting with a journalist in a little over an hour.
Game on, Tish.
Twelve
Malaika
Thursday, September 12th
Allegra giggles as Malaika pushes the swing. The child’s laughter is like popping open a bottle of cold champagne: fizzy and full of delicious, bubbly promise. Malaika had expected many things when she took this job, but she never imagined that she would care for Allegra as much as she does.
“Ayer!” Allegra stretches out her right hand, as if she wants to touch the cerulean sky.
“What a brave little girl!”
Malaika looks up to see Nick making his way across the green grass, waving happily.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Allegra calls out, lifting her arms in the air. The girl is absolutely in love with her father.
Malaika steadies the swing.
Nick scoops up his daughter and gives her a good squeeze. She giggles, delighted.
“Hello, Mr. Dewar,” Malaika says.
He shoots Malaika a winning smile. “Hi, Malaika.”
“Blay wiff us, Daddy?” Allegra cups Nick’s cheeks with her tiny, pudgy hands.
“Actually, pumpkin, I’m here to pick you up. Today was supposed to be Malaika’s day off.”
“Off?” Allegra frowns.
“You know, so she can rest,” Nick says.
Allegra tilts her head. “Maika sweepy?”
“Sure, baby.” Nick chuckles. “We all get sleepy sometimes.”
Allegra looks at Malaika. “Maika sweep with Daddy?”
Nick chuckles.
Malaika blushes, instinctively studying her surroundings. Around them, people—mostly women—are jogging, riding bikes, walking their dogs. It’s a regular weekday at the Hildegard Park.
“Everyone needs a day off every now and then.” Nick turns to Malaika. “I’m sorry about this, Malaika. Alice should’ve remembered. Sometimes I don’t know where her head is.”
Malaika bites down on her lip. Alice hadn’t forgotten about Malaika’s day off at all. She had texted Malaika around noon to ask her to look after Allegra for the day, which Malaika had already been doing anyway. Malaika couldn’t resist Allegra’s big, loving eyes asking her if they could play. Yolanda had driven them to the park on her way to the grocery store.
“That’s all right.” Malaika shrugs. “We were having fun.” They had spent the last hour feeding the ducks at the adorable pond shaped like a boot and playing peekaboo behind the elm tree. Minutes ago, Allegra had asked to go on the swings.
“I appreciate that,” Nick says, squinting under the afternoon sun.
Malaika wonders what Nick is doing home at 3:20 p.m. on a Thursday, but it’s probably rude to ask. She knows it’s not a holiday, because earlier they had walked past the local school and heard the inimitable noise of children laughing and playing during recess.
“I’ll take her for the rest of day,” Nick continues. “I know it isn’t much, but maybe you could try squeezing in some fun on what’s left of your Thursday? It’s so nice out.”
They say their goodbyes. Nick is probably the only person who can swoop in and take Allegra away from Malaika without any tears.
Malaika decides to walk toward Main Street and window-shop. It’s too late to hop on a train to New York City. But she’s looking forward to a stroll. Alma may not be Manhattan, but the town has an enchanting quality to it, almost like it’s been preserved from another time. And Nick is right: it’s a beautiful day. Blue skies, breezy autumn air, warm sunshine. The leaves are slowly turning a crisp, golden brown—a sign of the cold weather that is about to come.
Malaika studies the teenagers walking with their noses glued to their phones and thinks back to a time when she was one of them. It feels like a lifetime ago, though in reality it hasn’t been more than a few months. Ever since Hans showed his true colors.
Malaika often wonders how different her life would be if she had never met Hans. Would she still be living in Switzerland? Probably not. But she wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure. Coming to America hadn’t been in her plans. And all her life, Malaika has had a plan.
It was Hans who disrupted her plan. Who disrupted her life.
Malaika grew up in the staff quarters of the Euler Hotel in Basel, Switzerland’s third most populous city. In school, all she heard from her teachers was how lucky she and her peers were to be born in the epicenter of Germany, France, and Switzerland—in a town both peaceful and prosperous. Wasn’t it wonderful that Malaika spoke Swiss German, the city’s official language, as well as French and English? And she got to live in a hotel: how exciting! What fun it must be, meeting guests from all corners of the globe, eating meals prepared by renowned chefs.
But Malaika didn’t feel so lucky.
Sure, it was cool, not to mention convenient, to be able to walk from one country to another. And Basel was a charming place, with its ancient medieval city center and interesting architecture—old houses and narrow alleys. But Malaika would’ve traded it all for a chance to meet her father.
According to her mother, “Where is Dada?” had been her first fully formed sentence. Verena had tried her best to ignore Malaika’s question, distracting her with shiny objects and stories about a particularly unusual guest—as the hotel’s Guest Relations Manager, Verena had quite a few. When that didn’t work, Verena shared vague half-truths, in the hopes that they would satisfy her daughter’s curiosity. But Malaika’s bulldogged tenacity had been apparent from the start. She refused to give up until Verena finally confessed the truth about her father: he had been a man named Gustav—a
