Transcendence (A Muslim-Christian Story)

Chapter 12: Curious

"Oh!" was all Dr. Sebastian managed to say, confusion clearly written all over his face.

I cleared my throat and said, "Dr. Sebastian, this is my mother. Mama, this is Dr. Sebastian, head of my unit."

"So, he's your brother?" He asked looking very confused.

Mama looked too old to be his mother and I looked nothing like Isa's sister. So it was obvious why he looked so confused.

I took too long to answer. I didn't want to contradict my mother's statement right in front of her. And I didn't like being dishonest as well.

But mama spoke, "Dr. Sebastian, if you wouldn't mind, can I hold Isa for a bit? I've missed him. It's been too long since I last held him."

Mama has always been a overprotective of Isa.

"Mama, it's barely been an hour!" I say, trying to control my smile.

"Yes, please ma'am. Here." He says handing Isa to mama. But Isa seemed a little reluctant to let go of him.

He then turned towards me and said, "I'll see you tomorrow at work then. Goodbye." And giving a small bow of his head towards my mother, he left.

After we were done with all the grocery shopping, we returned home and sat down for dinner.

We prayed Isha, and after reading duas, Surah Mulk and Surah Sajdah, we tucked Isa to bed and he was fast asleep.

Mama then turned to me and said, "You know, while your boss was carrying Isa, it was as if he were the father. They looked so similar! Didn't you notice?"

I tried to picture it, but since I'm really bad at recalling faces, I couldn't seem to relate to her.

"They both had the same hair color and the exact same shade of eyes!" Mama informed me.

"Mama, it's very common to have strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes here. Besides, all foreigners look the same to me. So it is just a coincidence."

"Hmm... Yeah maybe I'm over thinking it a little."

We both turned to sleep.

The next morning, it tore me to leave Isa and go to work. Mama had to distract him because he just wouldn't let me go.

The whole time during the rounds, I could feel Dr. Sebastian glancing towards me. It felt strange.

After the rounds, we all went to the cafeteria to get some lunch.

As we all took a seat, Dr. Anjali said in a hushed voice, "What is Dr. Sebastian doing here? He never comes to the cafeteria!"

We all turned together to see Dr. Sebastian heading towards our table with a sandwich on his tray.

"May I join you all?" He asked.

"Sure!" Everyone murmured together.

He came over to my side and took a seat beside me.

There was a prolonged awkward silence. And no one dared to speak.

Sensing the tension in the air, Dr. Sebastian lifted his head from his sandwich and said, "Please, continue with your talk as you all usually do."

Dr. Anjali then started with some case and soon everyone else joined in on the conversation except Dr. Sebastian and I.

To say I was feeling awkward sitting next to him would be a major understatement!

Throughout the lunch, I felt like Dr. Sebastian wanted to say something, but repeatedly decided against it.

After we were done eating, we all got up to leave, Dr. Sebastian and I trailing behind the rest of the group.

He then turned to me and said, "Dr. Ameerah, could you please follow me to my office?"

"Sure, sir!" I say, unable to read his expression.

We walk quietly towards his office, with me trailing slightly behind him.

He gestures me to take a seat and I do so.

"How's the progress on the research data?" He asks.

I'm taken aback because I wasn't responsible for arranging the data for his new research.

"Sir, Dr. McGuire is responsible for that."

He seems a little confused but quickly covers his expression.

"Pardon me, it must have slipped my mind."

I sit there, waiting for him to say something or to ask me to leave, all the while playing with my fingers.

After about a minute, he says, "Your mother seemed like a good lady."

I look up, trying to read his expression but he has none.

"Thank you, sir. She is amazing." I say with a polite smile.

"Your brother, he is very cute too."

I stay quiet. I contemplate whether I should tell him he's my son or not. I realize my guilty conscience won't let me be if I don't correct him.

"He's not my brother. He's my son." I say, with my gaze fixated on my hands.