Mahad Basari was pleased with the growth of his
architectural firm. It was the second anniversary and his business was solvent.
After attending school in the states, he returned to Dubai to work for his
father’s company but with all Dubai offered he found himself yearning for
America. His father, Saad was very displeased. He wanted Mahad to receive an
American education and return home to work, marry and live. He recalled that
night two years earlier.
“Mahad, you cannot
dishonor me in this way. We need you here. America will not honor or support
you, you will be destitute.”
“Father, I must follow
my heart and right now my heart is in America. If it does not work, I can
always return home, but I need to know I can succeed there and on my own
terms.” Saad looked as if his son slapped him.
“Your heart, is there
an American woman? What about Amira?”
Mahad had known that
would be his father’s question and concern. He and Amira had grown up together
and their parents expected marriage but at twenty-eight, Amira loved her
independence and had no plans to marry Mahad or anyone any time soon. The two
of them were more friends than lovers. She was the first person he told of his
plans.
“Father, Amira is
fine. I am fine.” Saad walked from the room and did not speak to his son for
weeks. They now spoke regularly but Saad had not gotten over Mahad’s betrayal
as his only son.
Mahad knew what he did was the best thing for him, during
college and his internships, he grew to love American culture, African American
culture in particular and he could only receive that in America. His business
was doing well but his personal life was non-existent. He hadn’t dated in
months and was ready to get back out there.
¥¥¥¥
Everyone tried warning Sadia Lemore against opening a
bookstore but owning a bookshop as she called it had always been her dream. She
had grown up an avid reader and loved books. Her dream had been to own a
small, intimate bookshop that sold books of different cultures while serving tea,
coffee and pastries. Three years earlier she had opened the BookCup on Main Street
in the growing Springfield area while still working as a sought after public
relations person. It had been tough going the first year but for the past year
things had been going well and she was earning a nice profit. It was enough to
keep a roof over her head and food in her mouth and what she earned from
freelancing PR was enough for extras. She actually didn’t require much, she
lived in an older home, she was refurbishing. Her clientele was a nice mix of
ethnicities and she sold books because her place was so inviting. There were
flags from around the world and the shelves were eclectic and each section
covered different reading offerings. She offered books from mainstream American,
African American, Caribbean, African and other authors from around the world.
She also offered teas and coffees from different cultures as well. It was a
wonderful environment for avid readers, browsers and studiers. Her father
supported her completely with his time and money, filling in when she had other
gigs. She was open Tuesday through Saturday and took off on Sunday and Monday.
She loved her current life. If only she weren’t so lonely. As her mom
periodically reminded her, she could love books and even sleep with them, but a
woman sometimes needed a little extra.
Chapter One
Alton Lemore watched his wife Lynn, move about the kitchen.
After thirty five years of marriage there were some things he just knew about
his woman and others were a puzzle. He knew something was on her mind and she
had to move around and ‘attend’ to things until she was ready to discuss it. He
also knew it had to do with Sadia, their only child. Sadia, was thirty and Lynn
was grandchild starved. At fifty eight, she felt it was time for Sadia to
comply, right after she found herself a husband. Alton read his paper but would
periodically glance at his wife. He
still loved looking at her. When he married her she was a slender chocolate
woman with long thick hair, over the years she had become more padded, which he
actually loved and her hair was short and sassy but he found her even prettier.
When she finally sat, he folded his paper and gave her his undivided attention.
He knew she was ready to talk.
“How is Sadia ever going to find a man Alton and settle down
if she spends all of her time in the books store, shop or whatever she calls
it?”
“Lynn, she does not spend all of her time there. The
bookshop is open, Tuesday through Saturday and she only works Saturday
mornings, the young lady from the college works on Saturday afternoons and it
is only open from ten to six on those days. She is doing what she loves and
makes her happy.”
Lynn’s lips twisted at those words. She knew Alton would take
her side. Sadia was just like him with her head buried in a book and having a
passel of activities. Alton had spent the past twenty years as a principal but
he loved nothing more than reading and collecting books. When Sadia was home
and growing up, that had been their thing together. Lynn had always worked
part-time and a job to her was simply a way to earn extra money.
“Don’t you
love baking and don’t you love the feedback you get from the goodies you back
for the shop. Think of all the things you have learned to bake such as mini
flans and baklava.”
Sucking her teeth she stood up and went to check something
on the stove, she knew Alton would have something to say about that. She was
actually earning a good bit from her pastries and was often called to bake for
other businesses.
“Whatever Alton.”
Grinning, he returned to the paper. They
both heard the door opening and knew it was Sadia. When she entered the
kitchen, she kissed her dad and Lynn gave her the once over. Sadia was above
average height with a great figure but you would not know it based on the
shapeless dress she wore. Her hair was pulled up in a knot and her face was
void of makeup but shone with health and energy. She slowly swirled around,
allowing Lynn to check her out from every angle. Alton chuckled, Sadia had her
mom’s number.
“Okay mom, get it off your chest, I should be showing my
shape but at least my legs are showing and they aren’t ashy. That’s good isn’t
it?” Sadia teased.
“That dress looks like a sack, how do you ever expect to
attract someone if you can’t be bothered to accent your assets.”
“Mom, my assets are accented. What are you cooking?” She
pecked her mom on the cheek and sat down next to her dad.
“Right. I cooked fish and vegetables. I know how you are
about clean eating and all. I did make a very dirty chocolate cake.”
Sadia
could only laugh at her mom’s antics. She knew it was all love. For the next
hour, she sat with her parents and mostly talked to her dad about new books and
the poet who was signing at her shop on Saturday morning.” Lynn’s radar went on
full alert.
“Is the poet married?”
“Yes he is and if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t be interested. He
isn’t my flavor.”
“What is your flavor?”
“Hmm, I like smart, I like tall and thick, with confidence,
I like funny and well read… all those things. The poet is all those things, I
am sure but he isn’t my flavor, I will know it when I meet it, or taste it.”
She howled with laughter at the distaste on her mom’s face and more than a bit
of shock on Alton’s.
¥¥¥¥
Mahad sat across from his friend Cyrus, having a drink after
a very busy day. Cyrus was a poet who worked by day as a landscaper. He owned
his own business and did very well. Mahad met Cyrus when he did in the
landscaping for his business and they became quick friends. Mahad was laidback
and Cyrus was brusque and outspoken. He was married and his wife was pregnant.
He often asked Mahad questions about the Muslim faith and Mahad loved the
interest. He wasn’t nearly as immersed as he had been raised to be but he did
go to mosque for prayer and peace. Cyrus’ wife had been raised in the faith,
her father had been a member of the Nation of Islam.
“Man, you look whipped.” Cyrus noted.
“It has been a good week, good year actually. In addition to
my one architect, I am going to hire an intern next week, so that will
alleviate some of the workload. What time is your signing Saturday?”
“It is going to be from two to four. The young sister who
runs the bookshop is a dynamo and she said we will go on until people stop
coming. It closes at six. She has already sold a grip of books. Have you ever
been to BookCup?”
“I haven’t. I tend to order books online mostly. I have seen
it and it looks nice.”
“Man it is more than nice. Inside it looks like Morocco or
something and there is a great vibe. She also sells international pastries and
tea. There are two sofas and a few chairs with two large tables with chairs but
she does good business. You are coming, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. I feel like I have been missing out
from the way you describe it. There aren’t many bookstores left. How is she
managing?”
“She is doing well. Man, I am telling you people love going
in there. Many wished she kept it open longer but it is her and she has a
student on Saturday and her Pops helps her out. She is also a public relations
guru or something.”
“It is a family business?”
“Man, no, she owns it. Her Pops is a principal or something
and helps her out. I met him a couple of times, well-read and old school hip,
you would love him.”
He pulled a flyer from his bag and handed it to Mahad.
There was a large photo of Cyrus sitting at table with books and the
information about the signing but at the bottom was a smaller photo of Sadia
and the bookshop information. His eyes zoomed in on her. She had a flawless
toffee colored face with huge eyes, abundant lips and the longest natural
lashes he had ever seen. Her eyes were the color of tea.
“Mahad…” glancing up, he saw Cyrus staring at him.
“Yes.”
“I need to go. You can keep that flyer man. She looks much
better in person.”
Mahad could only grin. After Cyrus left, Mahad opened his
notebook to check out the website. The first thing he saw was that is looked
just as Cyrus described it with jewel tones and wood. There was also a video of
Sadia offering a welcome to the BookCup. On the video she was dressed in a
white dress that billowed around her and her very abundant curly, coily hair
was like a halo. He felt a shot of desire simply looking at the picture and
looked up and around. Closing the notebook, he drained his beer and prepared to
leave. He was looking forward to the signing.
http://www.amazon.com/LOVES-CULTURE-Angelia-Vernon-Menchan-ebook/dp/B00QKROILO/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1418823683&sr=1-2&keywords=menchan