Elm Creek: A Readymade Family, Volume 1

22

TWENTY TWO

It was past five o’clock when Hâroon pulled up before yet another daycare center that was open from early morning until the mid-evening to cater to working parents. Ibrâhîm whined from his car seat, agitated due to the long day they’d had, while Yusrâ was completely silent.

The day had been long and exhausting for Hâroon and the children. Since they had left the house, they had visited a countless number of child care centers. They had only stopped long enough to have lunch, which they’d had in the car and then they had continued their visits. At each place they had visited, the answer was always the same; they were not equipped to handle a child like Ibrâhîm and their staff did not have the necessary skill set and experience. Some had been willing to accept him if Hâroon could send a caretaker with him, but the problem remained since he had no such person he could hire. The day had been exhausting and disappointing, and he had little hope that this last visit would be much better.

“I’m tired, Daddy,” Yusrâ moaned. “When can we go home?”

Hâroon sighed and turned to her with an apologetic smile. “Last one, hon. I promise. Then we’ll go home.”

“Can I stay in the car?” she asked hopefully.

“No,” he said as he parked, switched off the heater, and then turned off the car. Though Yusrâ was mature for her age, he was not leaving an unattended four-year-old child alone in a car. “Both you and your brother have to come in.”

“Why not?” she asked. “You left me in the car before. I’ll be good. Please, Daddy?”

That had been when Lila had been with her. He decided against reminding her of that fact. “No can do, hon. Come on.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

Hâroon opened his door and the warm, humid air greeted him as he got out of the car. He went to the back to unbuckle the twins from their car seats, starting with Yusrâ. As he set her down on her feet, he closed the door and moved around to the other side of the car to get his son, and she followed silently. As he lifted Ibrâhîm out, it seemed as if his protests and complaints became even louder.

Carrying Ibrâhîm on his hip, he trudged up to the building of the daycare center. Ibrâhîm cried and struggled, but his sister was silent, and her face looked pale and withdrawn, showing her exhaustion. Hâroon was tempted to turn back and take them home instead, but he pushed forward. Though he knew Ibrâhîm would probably act out once they were inside and that this center was unlikely to be any different than all the others he’d visited before it, he still held onto a small flicker of hope that maybe they would be just what he needed.

By the time he entered the hall of the center, Ibrâhîm’s crying had turned to screeching and screaming, and Yusrâ had clapped her hands over her ears to shut out the sound.

Polly Kennedy, a woman in her mid-fifties, dressed in a calf-length skirt and matching jacket and her graying blond hair pulled back into a tight bun, heard the commotion from her office and rose from her desk. Adjusting her silver-framed glasses on her nose, she stepped out to greet the visitors.

“Hello, I’m Polly Kennedy,” she introduced herself, holding out a hand in greeting. “I’m the manager.”

“Hâroon Scott,” he introduced himself, shifting Ibrâhîm in his arms as the child continued to cry and scream just so he wouldn’t have to shake her hand or go through the awkwardness of explaining why he didn’t shake hands with women. He tried to avoid looking directly at the woman before him, though completely averting his gaze would seem rude. Dealing with women was always uncomfortable.