Elm Creek: A Readymade Family, Volume 1

25

TWENTY FIVE

When Hâroon and Ya’qoob stepped into the farmhouse, it was quiet and still—so much so that Hâroon was instantly worried. There was no sign of either ’Itbân or the children, though it seemed like the house had survived Ibrâhîm even with both Hâroon and ’Alîyâ away.

“Kind of quiet, don’t you think?” Ya’qoob voiced Hâroon’s thoughts.

He nodded. As quiet as it was, he found it unlikely that ’Itbân would take the children out of the house when he was supposed to house-sit until ’Alîyâ’s return. He and the children had to be in the house somewhere.

He finally came upon a very unexpected sight in the children’s room. ’Itbân was sprawled out on the bed, asleep, a twin cuddled up on either side. The room was a mess, but no more than one would expect of four-year-old children. It seemed like ’Itbân had been able to manage them after all.

“This is the perfect picture for an advertisement,” Ya’qoob said with a mischievous grin when he joined Hâroon. “Father material: All seeking women may apply. Someone will be sure to take him off our hands.”

“It’s no use,” ’Itbân mumbled before Hâroon could reply to his brother’s ridiculous suggestion. “She still won’t have me.”

Hâroon and Ya’qoob exchanged an amused and curious glance.

“Who won’t have you?” Ya’qoob asked.

The dark eyes ’Itbân had inherited from his Palestinian mother opened. “Samantha.”

“Samantha who?” Ya’qoob pressed.

“Samantha Dominic.”

Hâroon recognized that name. Though he’d forgotten most of his high school classmates, the memory of her had stuck with him—perhaps due to that incident with that popular jerk who had humiliated her or maybe because of what she’d said at the time Lila was pursuing him and he’d been trying to avoid it.

It turned out he wasn’t smarter than Samantha had been after all.

“Samantha Dominic—the one I went to school with?” Hâroon asked to clarify he and ’Itbân were thinking of the same one.

’Itbân sat up. “Yeah.”

“Who knew a woman would refuse someone like ’Itbân,” Ya’qoob commented. “He’s like the Prince Charming out of all of us.”

Ya’qoob wasn’t far off from the truth. Though ’Itbân had a temper at times and had the tendency to get into fights during his school years, he had always attracted the opposite gender, both because of his looks and his personality. He was never over the top in his fun like Ya’qoob, nor too serious like Hâroon. He was outgoing, easy to talk to, and charismatic.

“She doesn’t trust me,” ’Itbân said. “She thinks I’m playing with her. I told her we don’t do that sort of thing, but she doesn’t believe me.”

It made sense that the Samantha Dominic who had been tricked and humiliated by a boy before would be wary about men who showed interest. High school had not been so long ago that she would have forgotten the incident.

“I doubt it has anything to do with you,” he told his cousin. “She was tricked by one of those popular jock jerks back in high school in our junior year. Wesley Brooks, the football quarterback, pretended to be in love with her and then humiliated her in front of the entire school. You don’t come back from that kind of betrayal easily.”

’Itbân winced. “What an awful thing to do. What was the purpose?”

Hâroon shrugged. “A bet, I think.”