Chapter 2—Sheiks IX by CJ
Shawna had managed a few hours of sleep in Kess’s bed and now she was up early, cooking like a fiend in the kitchen. She had been trying to cook a lot, trying to make it seem like normal days for Rafee with screaming kids and frying eggs.
Rafee emerged soon after carrying Alexi and searching the cupboard for a bottle. He made baby formula, set the baby in a bouncy seat on top of the kitchen table and fed him.
“You didn’t have to make a bottle,” Shawna insisted. “I do breastfeed, you know.” Although, that had been difficult with her being gone for a few days during the war. Alexi only breastfed half the time, the other half he received his bottle and Shawna was glad Rafee was anxious to assist with that. And the little baby appeared hungry for he gulped his formula down in minutes.
“I know,” Rafee replied. “I just want to take part.”
Shawna nodded and turned back to the stove.
“What are you making?” came Rafee’s question.
“Breakfast,” Shawna answered.
“You don’t have to cook for me everyday,” Rafee insisted with a friendly smile.
Shawna looked him over and responded, “Yes, I do. You have a good twenty or thirty pounds to gain back.”
“And your cooking will do that, dear?” he teased and she glared at him.
“Fine, then I’ll hire a cook.”
Rafee laughed and stood from the kitchen chair. He looped his arms around Shawna’s waist and kissed her neck from behind.
“I’m glad you’re trying so hard, Shawna. I thought for sure you’d be impossible and cranky for weeks. Thank you for trying to jump right back into a normal routine with me.”
“It’s not easy, Raf,” Shawna replied. “I want to be angry with you but…well, I wanted you back for so long and now that I have you back, I’m not going to destroy it.”
“You know I never played dead to hurt you or to hurt my family. I really did it to protect you.”
“I know,” Shawna answered.
“Do you know how scared I was when Jabbar almost got to you and Kess?”
“I’ll bet you wanted to be twenty places at once and knew you couldn’t be. I understand.”
“And everyday, while I lived in those dank, dark caves, I thought of you and Kess. I had a picture of you two…Marcus had given it to me at the palace in Kumar before I left. He’d found it in our room. And I kept it with me. After each mission, I’d pull it out and look at it and want to just break down.”
“Rafee…” Shawna turned away from the stove to face her husband. “You don’t have to tell me this.”
“No? Then who else should I tell? Who else should I confess all my fears and pains to, if not to my wife?”
Her heart hurt. Just because Rafee was back, didn’t mean all the pain was gone. She still recalled the months of grief, she remembered Marcus’s loving support and then realized how messed up and tangled everything had become. Poor Marcus, poor Rafee, poor Shawna. But she didn’t want to dwell on all that, she just wanted to move forward.
Shawna covered her face with her hands for a moment, sighed, and then looked up at Rafee. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. She traced the scar on his face and asked a question she had yet to ask him. “Were you in much pain when you were injured?”
“I suppose. I was unconscious for most of it.”
“How’d they find you…the rebels?”
Rafee moved away from her and Shawna returned to the stove. They had yet to discuss all that had transpired during the war and Shawna knew that part of getting back to normal was talking about everything.
“They were nearby when our camp was attacked. They entered the camp before the Johar military, looking for salvageable weapons and supplies, and they found me. Their leader, Ali, he saved me. He was a doctor in his former life.”
“Is he still in Johar? I would love to thank him.”
Rafee’s face pulled tight and he turned his back to Shawna and pretended to be interested in the baby.
“No, he uh…died,” Rafee announced.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“He had a boy…a teen. Kadeem.”
“What’s come of the boy?”
Rafee turned around and Shawna saw the most sheepish expression on his face. He was about to drop a bomb on her and her hand tightened upon her spatula, expecting the worst.
“Well…I sort of made a promise to Ali. And Samad and Isis are taking care of the paperwork now. I believe even Taj is in on it. Anyhow…Kadeem was left on his own. His mother had been dead for years. And Ali…I really respected Ali. He was a wonderful, wonderful man. And I owed him my life and…”
“And get to the point, Rafee,” Shawna demanded. “Where is the boy?”
“Just as soon as everything is legal, he’ll be coming here with us. He’ll be ours, Shawna. We’re adopting him.”
**
Shawna paled and Rafee wondered for a moment if he should rush to her side to keep her from falling in a heap. But she never wavered on her feet and finally her green eyes grew to tiny slits and she asked, “Adopting him? A teenager? Rafee, are you nuts?”
She turned back to the stove and Rafee sighed.
Things between them were just a bit strained these days. It wasn’t that either of them was trying to make things stressful, it was just the circumstances. In fact, Rafee felt lucky that Shawna was behaving as calmly as she was. He’d been prepared for weeks and weeks of rantings and ravings and assaults. But aside from the one instance at Snow’s cabin, Shawna had been quite calm. Perhaps too calm.
“Shawna, I made a promise. Where is Kadeem supposed to go? And he’s a wonderful boy. Wait till you meet him.”
“I’m sure he is, Rafee, but…hell, we have two small children of our own, you just returned from the dead and I’m still a bit off kilter about everything. How on earth will we care for a teen who’s grieving over his father?”
“Abra will help care for him. She’s coming with him?”
“Abra?”
“A widow from the war. Her husband died with Ali. She also was instrumental in saving me. She’s a good friend.”
“Oh, this just gets better and better,” Shawna quipped. “A boy, a widow…anyone else we’re adopting while we’re at it?”
“Shawna…please, you must understand, they have nobody else.”
Shawna turned off the burner, spun around and placed a stubborn hand on her hip.
“Okay, make me understand, then,” she demanded.
“Abra’s village and family had been destroyed by the Shakirs years ago. Any village that harbored dissenters, any province that was suspected of protesting Shakir law, was destroyed in Johar. It was a horrible, horrible fate many suffered. King Haddad and King Jabbar spared no one. They used torture and terror to keep people in line. Ali was once a friend to Haddad. He often counseled him against such terror. And for a time, Haddad listened. When he stopped listening, Ali left Haddad’s circle and began an underground group. His wife died along the way and his poor boy has been living a life no child should have to live. But the one bright spot for Kadeem had been his father. Ali was a good father. He taught the boy well. But now Ali is dead. I swore to Ali on his deathbed I’d care for the boy. And I owe it to him, after all, he saved me.”
“All right, I get it. What about the woman?”
“She gave me a blood transfusion when I was injured. She stayed by my side, cared for me, befriended me. And when her husband died…well, she has no one. What is she to do in a country like Johar that is war-torn and rebuilding itself with no family, no husband?”
“I suppose she comes to stay with the royal Prince Rafee I’m-a-sucker-for-any-charity-case Armanjani.”
Rafee frowned at her. Shawna’s slang always surpassed his ability to grasp it in her language. She was angry about the new additions to their family, but he also realized that had things been normal, she wouldn’t be balking. But since things were strained, since things just weren’t quite right, Shawna didn’t want the added stress. But his wife had a good heart and eventually she’d see the light.
“I’m assuming they’ll arrive in a week or so,” Rafee added.
“Okay,” Shawna said with resignation. Then she turned back to the stove and pulled the pan off the stove-top. “Its time to eat.”
**
Hundreds upon hundreds of citizens turned out to honor Nida. The streets of the capital city were packed as the funeral procession slowly moved toward the graveyard. Razi was pleased with the turnout for it meant that Nida had been loved by her citizens and not abhorred as her husband had been.
Or course, during her life Razi had discovered that she’d spend time visiting hospitals and orphanages. She was loved by all who came upon her and she was often instrumental in wrangling money from Jabbar and Haddad to support humanitarian efforts. Though neither man had believed in charity, for Nida, they had relented.
Razi was strong during the ceremony. After all, he was the head of state now, the man in charge of a country confused about its future and recovering from war.
He was flanked by Anika, ever strong in this trying time, his cousin Emir and his loyal military commander General Bishr. Razi had promoted him and Bishr would be in charge of rebuilding the military. Although, Razi made it perfectly clear that he did not want a large force. He did not want their neighbors to feel threatened by the new regime. Kumar and Johar may have agreed to a peace settlement, but it didn’t mean the other emirates or
**
Jenny, Nico and Tara were off together getting caught up. Nik found John Banes in his study and he was glad the man was alone, for the two men had much to talk about.
A lot had been said between the two many months ago and now that things were finally normalizing again, Nik needed to cement plans with John. What did John plan to do about Jenny’s heritage? How much would be told and when? They were very important and very pressing questions and Nik needed to ease his own heart and mind with the answers.
“John,” Nik said easily as he watched the man motion for him to enter. Nik closed the study doors behind him and made himself comfortable in a leather wing-back chair. John remained behind his desk and reached into a humidor.
“Care for one, prince?” the man inquired.
“No, thank you,” Nik refused, wondering what it was about powerful American men and cigars. The two seemed to go hand in hand along with a hard shot of finely aged scotch.
“So, the war’s over. Glad to hear it,” John began.
“We all are.”
“And how did you enjoy combat yourself?”
“Nothing about it to enjoy,” Nik remarked. Indeed, he had not relished in the experience quite the same way his brother no doubt had. Rafee was born to fight, Nik only did when necessary.
John nodded and Nik quickly added, “But I must thank you again for arranging the support for Kumar that you did. Your CIA men were an endless fount of knowledge and intelligence. Without them, my small squad would have perished.”
“I hear they say without you and your family they would have perished,” John argued.
“Then we fought along-side each other with mutual respect. But please, pass my thanks along to your President.”
“I will. In fact, I have a meeting with him later this week.”
They grew silent for a moment, then John tilted his chair forward, set down the cigar he had yet to light and asked, “Tell me, what are your plans for Jenny?”
“I came in here to ask you the same thing,” Nik stated.
“You have told her nothing?”
“Nothing. And I have not told Tara…unless you did while I was away.”
John emphatically shook his head. “No, never. That would be your decision, not mine. But I was thinking…Jenny will be eighteen soon. Maybe she should know the truth.”
“Maybe,” Nik drawled.
John raised a curious eyebrow. “You do not approve, Crown Prince?”
“Of course I would never deny you telling her the truth, but for my own selfish reasons, I am afraid to.”
John smiled with sympathy. “Ah, I understand. But be assured, you will never lose her respect or love. She sees you as more of a father to her than I will ever be. But…I feel perhaps she has the right to know.”
“She does,” Nik replied.
Indeed, Jenny deserved to know that John was her true father. How, if at all, it changed things between her and him was another road that he’d travel down if necessary. For now, however, telling her the truth was the most important.
“When do you think is the right time?” John inquired.
“Tomorrow. Let me talk with Tara tonight. Tomorrow you and I can talk with Jenny and then she’ll have time to absorb it before her school semester begins,” Nik decided.
“Tomorrow then,” John agreed.
**
Rafee groaned with exhaustion as he stretched his arms over his head and spied his bed across the room. If only he had the strength to make it there.
He’d spent a good portion of the afternoon in the work-out room and pool. He felt an urgency to get his body back in prime shape and that meant hours of dedication. Yet his muscles were still weak, his body missing pounds of muscle that needed to be regained. And as he emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed, he just wanted to sleep to catch up with the months of tough-living and fighting he had endured.
His bed, however, was a bit disorganized. The heavy red canopy curtains that were always tied back at each post were unraveled and no doubt Shawna and Kess had been playing in here, creating a fort that Shawna had always insisted was the best use of the bed. Rafee, of course, could think of better uses for that bed, but he was too exhausted. He and Shawna had not reunited yet as lovers, but that would come with time. For now, both were tired, both were stressed and Shawna had just given birth…
Those were all excuses for the fact that something was off. Something wasn’t quite right.
Thinking he’d worry about such issues later, Rafee pushed through the curtains and laid down. The closed curtains created a dark haven and he shut his eyes, knowing sleep would come to him quickly. A giggling child’s voice, however, interloped into his nap and just as he opened his eyes, Kess came bounding through the closed curtains.
She was squealing with delight, no doubt pleased with herself for giving her mother the slip. Rafee could hear Shawna’s voice down the hall, calling for Kess. The little girl grabbed a pillow and laid beneath it, hiding herself.
Then she turned her head and let out a whimpering cry as her eyes landed on Rafee.
“Kess,” he said gently, “don’t cry. Its daddy.”
She shook her head and scurried down to the end of the bed.
He spoke soothingly to her in his native tongue, then, praying she’d remember it. She’d always fallen asleep to the sound of his home language when she was younger. Perhaps some memory would be triggered now that would bring her closer to him.
“Come here, Kess. Daddy will tell you a story.”
“No, no story” she blurted out in English, proving to him that she remembered some of his language.
“Please,” he begged.
“No, not dada,” she insisted and it tore at his heart intensely to hear such words from her.
“Yes, I am daddy,” he stated in English.
“No. Ma-cus, dada,” she declared and hearing that did more than tear at his heart, it shattered it completely.
Yet if Kess was breaking his heart, it was his own fault. After all, he had been dead to her for nearly a year. And since his going to war, Marcus had been her only father-figure in her life. Right now the little girl was hurting because she missed Marcus, because she didn’t understand where Rafee had been and because she just didn’t quite know what to do…just like the rest of them.
“Marcus was not your daddy,” Rafee said in a low voice. At least Kess hadn’t run away yet. That was a good sign. “He took care of you and loved you. But he was never your daddy. I’ve always been your daddy, honey. And I’m sorry I had to go away for so long. But I always loved you.”
She said nothing, just looked at him with accusing eyes and pouted. That pout was Shawna’s pout. That pout made him smile.
“Do you remember the stories I used to tell you before bedtime?” he then questioned. “Remember the stories about the horses and the desert and the princes that ruled it?”
She just glared at him, then crossed her arms over her chest.
“And remember the little princess that saved the land from all the bad bandits who tried to over-throw the king?” he continued. “She and her white horse saved everyone because they were so brave.”
Finally Kess’s little lips blurted out, “Horsie?”
“Yes, Kess, horsie,” Rafee repeated with a smile. “Would you like daddy to take you to see the horses today? We could ride one.”
“Ride horsie?” She seemed to be pondering that point, but when Rafee put his arms out toward her and indicated for her to come to him, she immediately screeched and bolted off the bed. She was gone and he was left with nothing but the memory of her accusing glare.
He cursed, threw his arm over his eyes, and remained on the bed. He wasn’t going to chase her, he wasn’t going to force himself on her. She was young, not quite two and a half now, and with time she would be herself again.
That was the lie he kept telling himself, anyhow. It made him feel better.
But what if his family never accepted him back again? What if they were always walking around the strange elephant that had planted itself in their lives and which they didn’t acknowledge? What then…
He thought no more about it because Shawna came into the room. She parted the curtains and asked, “Where’s Kess?”
“Screaming down the hall,” Rafee quipped.
“What happened?”
“I scared her again,” Rafee admitted. “I mean, I tried not to. I tried to talk to her and for a while, I thought it was working. Then…hell, I don’t understand.”
“Give her time. She’s just a little girl.”
Shawna had successfully tied two of the curtains back and was starting to round the bed to finish the job when Rafee reached out and grasped her arm. He yanked her onto the bed with him and she let out a screech.
“I was kind of hoping you’d leave the curtains to the bed down and join me, Shawna,” he cooed seductively and Shawna smiled at him and kissed him on the nose.
“Sorry,” she said, pushing away, “I have to find Kess. I don’t like her wandering around this big house all by herself.”
“Why don’t you call Omar up to watch the kids for a while?” he suggested as Shawna pulled away from him.
His arms were cold.
Laughing, Shawna replied, “Sure, he’s just wonderful with babies.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Everyone in the family knew Omar was clumsy around babies. He just wasn’t the nanny type.
Shawna walked through the bathroom and into the children’s room, then she returned with a worried look. “Kess isn’t in there.”
Then she moved to the hallway and called. No answer.
She dashed back into the room, glanced out the window down into the backyard and grumbled, “She’s outside. Right by the pool. Damn it all…Oh God! Kess! Rafee, she fell in.”
Without another word, Rafee sprang to his feet, ran down the stairs three at a time, turned left into the dinning room, knocking over chairs and slammed open the French doors. He dove into the pool without a moment of hesitation and grabbed his little girl. She’d been in the water, in the deep end, flailing, her head under water and the fear that he had felt was heavy and acid in his gut.
Quickly he swam to the side and handed her off to Shawna. Kess was crying, but she was okay. She hadn’t been under water long enough to be hurt. Shawna had a towel around her and was drying her off, asking her if she was fine.
Kess just kept crying and crying. Rafee hung on the side of the pool, trying to catch his breath. The mad dash had been but seconds, yet he was still winded, still feeling like he’d hiked twenty miles. Between the war, reuniting with his family and Kess’s constant rejection of him, Rafee had had it. The emotional toll was just too great to bear any longer and had no strength with which to pull himself out of the pool. That is until he heard Kess’s little voice asking, “Dada? Dada?”
He looked up and standing there, holding her hand out toward Rafee, was his dripping wet daughter.
“Dada, out,” Kess demanded.
Shawna was smiling and slowly, Rafee pulled himself out of the pool.
“Dada, hurt?” Kess inquired.
Rafee pulled his daughter onto his lap, hugged her tightly and answered, “No, daddy’s just fine, Kess. He’s just fine.”
**
The incident had shaken Shawna. Of course it had. Granted, she and Rafee were not overly protective parents. When their kids fell, they didn’t rush to pick them up, didn’t overindulge a small bruise or bump. But Kess falling in the pool was no minor bruise or bump.
Of course, the little girl wanted to go play in the pool not five minutes later and with a sarcastic chuckle, Rafee stood and carried her inside. Shawna locked all the doors leading to the backyard behind her.
“You, young lady, are going nowhere but to the bath,” Rafee told Kess as he dripped water through the dining room and up the stairs.
“Rafee!” Shawna chastised. “You got water everywhere!”
“Clean it up, I’ll give Kess a bath,” he called down from the upper level.
Shawna growled in frustration, then threw a towel onto the terracotta tile floors and began wiping up the mess. She loved Villa Serena, but looking at its vastness, walking the distance of the tile floor as she cleaned up the water and then taking in the water in the pool out back, she realized this wasn’t her home and it wasn’t exactly a place she felt comfortable raising babies.
The back doors were too easily opened by tiny hands. The numerous rooms were too many for a child to hide in. And the tile floor was entirely too much for Shawna to have to mop up after a dripping Kess and Rafee. No, this wasn’t their home and neither was the palace.
Satisfied with her work on the floor, Shawna mounted the steps and wiped each one as she went, then entered their bathroom and tossed the damp towel into the hamper. Rafee’s and Kess’s wet clothes were lying atop it, still dripping, and he was dressed in dry shorts. Kess was already splashing in the bath water.
Shawna groaned again, picked up the mess of wet clothes, and trudged back down the stairs, turned right, took the hallway next to the stairs and down the hall to the laundry room. She started a load of laundry, then trudged back up the stairs and when she entered the bathroom again, she blurted out, “I am so tired of this house, Rafee. I am so tired of mansions and palaces and pools and having twenty thousand rooms.”
Rafee, kneeling next to the tub and scrubbing Kess’s hair with baby shampoo, looked over his shoulder at her and asked, “What do you mean by that? Villa Serena and the palace are our homes. It’s where we live.”
“No, Rafee, they’re places are where we stay. We have rooms….not a house,” Shawna corrected and for a brief moment she envisioned Marcus’s cabin by the lake. What a luxury it had been to have a quaint house like the one she’d grown up in. What comfort it had been to have just them and not a battalion of servants and security men.
Shawna realized that when she and Rafee were first married, the life they had lived was fine. But now that they had two children, now that she’d lived a slower paced life for a while, she wanted to go back to simpler times. She had been raised a regular girl and after living in the lap of luxury for a few years, she wanted to return to her roots.
Rafee poured water over Kess’s head. She squealed and splashed and for a moment he was distracted. Perhaps it was best to leave him with his daughter. Now that Kess was finally warming to him, now that Kess had finally called him “dada” instead of running in a fit from him, perhaps he needed time with her to bond.
Shawna left the bathroom, but not two minutes later, Rafee entered with Kess wrapped in a towel.
He stood Kess up on the bed, used the towel to vigorously dry her hair then let her bounce wildly on the bed while he frowned at Shawna.
“What did I say to make you storm out?” he asked.
“I didn’t storm anywhere,” she replied. “I wanted to wait until I had your undivided attention. And now,” she added as she grabbed her naked daughter and heard Kess giggle, “I’m going to wait until you get me Kess’s clothes. She’s still not entirely potty-trained, you know. She may just pee all over the bed if you don’t find her pull-ups and pants, fast.”
Rafee disappeared for a few moments, returned with Kess’s clothes and Shawna dressed her. All the while her husband was glaring at her with some impatience.
“Now, what was your fuss about our living arrangements all about?” he demanded.
“It was no fuss. It was a fact. Perhaps our little family needs some privacy. A place to call our own. I mean, Nik and Tara have Villa Serena. Zak and Maria have Canterbury. Laxman has his house. Anika just moved into the royal palace of Johar.” Shawna shrugged. “Maybe we need something. I’m tired of always feeling like somebody’s guest.”
“The Armanjanis are family, not guests. And the palace is home for everyone,” Rafee argued. “Have you not always felt welcome?”
“Yes, immensely. But that’s not the point. Take today for instance. If this was my house, I’d either put baby gates in front of each and every door leading outside or fence off that pool. Kess just gets into too much mischief. I suppose Nico doesn’t, but our daughter is ornery. Tara may not worry as much about things like the pool and such. And I guess I didn’t either…until you died. Now…” She shook her head. “I just want a place to call my own. A place that I feel safe and secure in.”
Rafee scrubbed his face. Shawna couldn’t read him. He’d been too controlled lately. Too patient and calculating since his return. She missed the high-strung, high-energy man she had once known. Then again, he was still physically recovering as much as she was emotionally recovering from everything that had happened.
“Rafee?” Shawna called his name and he finally looked at her.
“I heard you, Shawna, and I’m thinking. Can we table it tonight, sleep on it, and talk about it in the morning?” he suggested.
Shawna nodded.
Rafee smiled and the baby began crying in the nursery.
“Then why don’t we spend the rest of the evening ordering a pizza and watching movies downstairs? Just to get used to some normalcy again? And to eat something that will actually taste like it’s supposed to,” Rafee said and Shawna immediately chucked one of the bed pillows toward him. But he was already hidden safely in the bathroom.
“That’s not nice, Rafee,” she called after him. “Not nice at all!” But at least it felt normal to hear him say such things and that is what she desperately wanted…some normalcy again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Sheiks of Kumar IX: Family Reunion – Chapter 3