Yasmina’s eyes lit up as I approached her and her warm smile gave her a look I hadn’t seen on her before. It was sincere and without any attempt to mask it.
“They’re lovely!” she whispered excitedly, indicating the bouquet in my hand, and in a slightly teasing tone she added, “What a lucky girl you are!”
“Am I? I really don’t know what to think.” I couldn’t help giggling in a rather flustered way.
“You think too much. You’re very much like me that way.” She chuckled but I noticed a shadow cloud her eyes. “Dr. Youssef is one of the gentlest, kindest men I’ve ever met. A little quirky, but we all have our oddities, don’t we?”
Yasmina’s words quickly brought to mind Youssef’s nervous charm. I smiled. “Oh yes, we do. Yasmina, can I ask you something about Youssef?” She nodded and I continued. “I know he was your professor, but you seem closer to him than that. Not that I’m suggesting…”
“Oh no, I know. I was in his class when…” her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. “Although I never confided in him, I mean, he barely remembered me yesterday when he saw me, we weren’t that close, but somehow he managed to keep me afloat for a while.”
“But how, if you never spoke to him about what happened?” I stopped abruptly. I didn’t want to push her too hard for information. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”
“Its alright, Amar. I know you know what happened. Do you think I didn’t hear you last night when you cried out in your sleep? Its a familiar sound, dear.” Tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked hard to chase them away. I wanted to embrace her but something told me to hold back. She continued. “Everyone knew what happened almost as soon as it happened. Word travels fast in these small communities.” She smiled pensively.
I nodded sympathetically in hopes she would not stop her story.
“Dr. Youssef seems to have an uncanny ability to see through any facade and to understand exactly what the soul needs.” She shook her head. “Perhaps I’m giving him too much credit, but I don’t think so. Amar, I really can’t tell you whether he intentionally focused his lectures to give my life meaning, but the time I spent in his class were the brightest moments in those dark days.”
My stomach lurched partially from a deep seeded empathy for Yasmina, and from a sudden urgent realization about Youssef. I felt the bouquet in my hand, not the weight of it, but the optimism in it.
“Yasmina?” I almost whispered. “What is your husband’s name?”
She looked at me with eyes bright with relief. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You didn’t say “was”.” She smiled sadly. “Housam. My husband is Housam.”
“Housam…” I repeated but stopped as I noticed Yasmina looking over my shoulder.
“Excuse me, Yasmina.” A soft, but gruff voice came from behind me. As I turned to see who it was, the man I saw there was completely unfamiliar to me. I thought I had noticed everyone in the cafe – at least seen them once since I’d been there – but he had eluded me. In his food stained, white apron, there was no question that he was the cook. He was probably in his late 40’s, on the tall side of average, broad of shoulder, and time worn in a most interestingly handsome way. I saw immediately the quiet tempest brewing beneath the surface. His eyes were dark pools nearly hidden beneath his furrowed brow. They were eyes which, under normal circumstances, would be impossible to read – but now, as they looked at Yasmina, they spoke a thousand words.
“Yes, Yazan?” Yasmina replied, her face softening delicately.
“Can I speak to you?” He gestured gently toward the kitchen.
“Of course.” She first smiled at him and then winked at me. “Yazan, this is Amar, she’s visiting from Canada. She’s seems to like this place.”
Yazan gave a brisk nod in my direction not even attempting to force a smile. “You haven’t been here long then.”
“Only a day.” My writer’s mind was whirring now. The exterior of this man presented a formidable challenge, but I believed the information held deep within may be a treasure trove. “But I’d like to stay longer.”
A low, indecipherable sound came from Yazan’s throat before he turned back toward the kitchen. “It was nice to meet you.” I called after him. He waved without looking back.
Yasmina shook her head. “He’s a big bear. I’ll go now and see what he wants. Enjoy your day, Amar. We’ll get together later?”
“I would like that very much. You have a good day too, my friend.” I hoped I wasn’t being presumptuous but her smile suggested that she appreciated my gesture.
—–
The romantic hero indeed. As his words washed over me, Youssef’s eyes were lit as though there were a thousand stars behind them. I knew then, as I stared into their inner depths, that I had definitely made a mistake – several, in fact. I had never imagined myself as a character in the story I was collecting here – especially not the love interest of my hero. And, although I saw the potential in Youssef to be a romantic, I had completely underestimated him. In none of my experience, and I would fully admit that there hadn’t been much in the way of experience, had I ever heard such an expression of affection. I was, in no uncertain terms, completely captivated by it, speechless, in fact – for a moment too long.
“Amar.” Youssef moved his hand toward my face as though he wished to touch it, but then stopped himself and frowned pensively.
“Youssef, I…”
“No, please, you don’t have to say anything.” He hurriedly interrupted me. “Its alright. Just walk with me to the beach. Give me this small pleasure, will you?”
Without waiting for an answer he began walking again, marginally faster than our previous amble.
Without a word, I walked close by his side and slid my hand into his, discretely, and left it there for just the right amount of time.
© Mariyah Ayoub and Mariyah’s Blog, 2008-2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Mariyah Ayoub and Mariyah’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Mariyah
abufares
abufares said,
September 25, 2009 at 10:57 am
WOW!!!
What can I add more?
Not only is this the best episode either of us has written so far in terms of exquisite style but it has succeeded in finally opening the road ahead to unleash our imagination(s) individually and collectively.
As I went through this episode for a 3rd time in a row ideas were already dancing in my head and vying for my attention. Some of them even wiggled their butts.
Then you turned your Amar to my Youssef and made his lips shiver with the wonder of excitement before even the… anticipation… They are still at that endearing stage, barely 24 hours after they met.
What are these two going to do with and to each other?
Only time can tell.
Mariyah said,
September 25, 2009 at 7:11 pm
Oh, my dear Abufares, I leave it in your capable hands now. I shall wait with anticipation to see what you come up with.
abufares said,
September 25, 2009 at 9:45 pm
I’m glad you left it in my hands and not in Youssef’s. Only god knows what he might come up with if we set him free with an unsuspecting Amar.
You can count on me to keep things under control for at least another couple of weeks. After that! There’s no garantee.
Youssef is messing my mind.
Mariyah said,
September 26, 2009 at 12:08 am
Oh no! Clearly we can’t rely on Youssef. Very unpredictable that romantic, old fool!
Maybe you should sit him down with some Arak and set him straight, Abufares. Or maybe not… 
Gabriela said,
September 26, 2009 at 4:32 am
Is Amar really unsuspecting?
abufares said,
September 26, 2009 at 5:44 pm
You know Gabriela, I suspect that Amar is in as bad a shape as Youssef. BAD meaning of course (GOOD) or shall we say she’s as “desperate” as he is. Naaah it’s is not the right word, uuuummm, Amar is as beyond the point of no return as Youssef is. She’s a Goner too. How about that???
neetu said,
September 25, 2009 at 11:53 am
hi Mariyah & Abufares,
Thanks Mariyah. good to see Sea Side 11 as soon as I waked up. Read it and now again the wait started to see Sea Side 12, Abu fares.
Neetu
Mariyah said,
September 25, 2009 at 8:19 pm
Its nice to see you here again, Neetu. Thanks for your comment.
Katia said,
September 25, 2009 at 12:07 pm
Hi Mariyah,
Your simple dialogues and exquisite style have divulged so much about these characters! It’s like this episode is a big open door to the real story. I truly loved reading it!
Mariyah said,
September 25, 2009 at 8:20 pm
And I truly love reading your comments, Katia!! Thank you so much for being here.
Fantasia Lillith said,
September 25, 2009 at 9:26 pm
*clapping hands* bravo bravo bravo! Oh wow … and yet another character, the set is really being staged now! love triangles and rectangles and back and forths. This is wonderful. Oh Abufares, yes indeed, where will you go?
Mariyah said,
September 25, 2009 at 11:49 pm
Oh, thank you, Fantasia! How lovely to see you!! *bowing* I’m so pleased you approve!
Gabriela said,
September 26, 2009 at 1:10 am
“You didn’t say “was”.” She smiled sadly. “Housam. My husband is Housam.”
This simple line provoked a knot in my throat. How many Yasminas’s would there be all over the world? How many Housams? Unfortunately, too many…
As I said before, there is no greater pain that not knowing what happened with someone we love.
Breathtaking!
¡Saludos, Mariyah!
Mariyah said,
September 26, 2009 at 5:06 pm
Oh Gabriela, you brought tears to my eyes. I find often when I write my mind works technically rather than emotionally. Your thoughts on the matter are exactly what I was trying to provoke, but I hadn’t allowed myself to feel it. I don’t know if this makes any sense, but reading your comment brought forward all the emotion. Thank you for being here, my friend.
Joseph said,
September 26, 2009 at 1:15 am
Well done, Mariya, what Youssef, needs right now is a fire extinguisher, a fire engine or perhaps الإسعاف المدني (Civil Defense) before Tartous is engulfed in his flames…LOL…and I thought it was so quite and so peaceful in here…
Mariyah said,
September 26, 2009 at 5:10 pm
LOL! Thank you, Joseph! I think you might be right!
Ah the firestorm that can arise from a simple lunch at a modest cafe. You just never know do you?
Joseph said,
September 27, 2009 at 1:43 am
I don’t know anything. I’m too slow. LOL
Joseph said,
September 26, 2009 at 1:16 am
Mariyah with a H, my apologies
Pearl said,
October 1, 2009 at 10:24 pm
I’m new to the blogosphere but I happened across abu fares’ page and then yours mariyah…and i’m in love with both of you! (and of course youssef and amar!)
Sea Side has really captured me…the eloquence, the raw nature of both the characters and the backdrop of tartous, all are captivating. now i am anxiously waiting for the next chapter!
Mariyah said,
October 1, 2009 at 11:47 pm
Thank you so much, Pearl! Welcome here!! Abufares and I are enjoying ourselves so much and we’re always excited when someone else joins in on the fun!! Hope to see you again!
abufares said,
October 2, 2009 at 5:02 am
Hi Pearl
and thank you for being here. You’ve just made my day with your comment so I wouldn’t keep you waiting for long for the next episode.
Hopefully in the next few hours:-)
Like Mariyah I hope to see you, always.
Pearl said,
October 2, 2009 at 6:18 am
I started a recipe blog for fun…I’ve had a personal blog…so I’m hoping to start a more “interesting” one…I’m a writer by profession, but the corporate world has corrupted my writing you could say…so inshallah (yup, I am originally Syrian too!! I’m a Shamiyeh) I will have something to share with you…and hopefully capture your interest as well!
Abufares I’m waiting!!!
abufares said,
October 2, 2009 at 10:46 am
I’m waiting too Pearl…
To read you as soon as possible. A Shamieh Ah, something in you Banat El Sham induces a man to melt if not careful. Your charm was never as appreciated as it should by the Shwam Men.
You know I’m really testing if any Shami is reading