Love from a to Z

parts inside the gold are like enameling. We just read a bit about it back
there.”
“It’s called meenakari, and Adam says we’re going to try to do it at
home,” Hanna said. “Like, an easy version.”
We came out of the hallway onto the landing of the central museum
staircase, into a burst of light.
I looked up at the amazing ceiling with a star-shaped skylight.
“This is my favorite place in Doha, the museum. Actually, one of my
favorite places on earth.” Adam joined me in gazing up. “I love things that
inspire me to try my hand at making stuff.”
“Adam is a maker,” Hanna said, breezing by us, going back to her
favorite activity of skipping around snapping pictures. “He’s making a
world in a room at our house. You should see it!”
Adam laughed and straightened his head to look right at me. “No, you
shouldn’t. Because there’s nothing there yet. It’s a work in progress.”
He was just a few inches taller than me, and, maybe because of that,
when he looked at me, we were almost eye to eye. It made me look
anywhere but at him. Mostly because—cringe—I was afraid he’d see the
feelings on my face. I examined the huge circular light fixture suspended
just ahead of us. “What else do you make?”
He turned to look at the fixture too. “All sorts of things. Whatever gets
my interest at the moment.”
“Wait. Was the last thing you made the rock-collection box for Hanna?” I
stole a glance. Oops, it happened to be at the same time he did.
“I heard my name!” She flew by us, snapping a picture of us.
I’d have to get that girl to send me those pics she took of Adam and me.
Adam nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve started another project since.”
“The world room? That Ha—” I paused as Hanna made her way around
us again. “That your sister talked about?”
“And something else. A special project that I started just this morning.
Before I came here.”

---

After a quick glance at each other, we both turned to the light fixture
once more. It was super intricate, the designs on it.
Wait. What was in that look he just gave me? Is he making something, a
special project, having to do with me?
Stop, I told myself. Be realistic.
I cleared my throat. “So, when are you going back? To London?”
He became quiet.
I waited a bit before facing him.
He wasn’t looking ahead, at the light, but down at the floor. “I’m not.
Going back to school. That’s something else I have to talk to my dad about.
I officially de-enrolled from university before I flew here.”
Then he lifted his head, ran his fingers through his hair, and gazed up
again. All the way up at the ceiling.
He doesn’t look sad.
“What are you going to do?” I couldn’t imagine it. Dropping out of
school. Handling so many unknowns.
“I’m going to make things.” He smiled. “The thing is, I’ve got a bit of
money that my mom left for . . . ‘fun,’ she called it. She wanted me to have
a gap year before university, but I never took it. So I guess I will now. I may
even go spend some time with my grandparents in Canada. Dad’s side in
Vancouver, Mom’s in Ottawa.”
My heart lit up. That’s kind of close to Indiana. Close to Springdale.
Well, closer than Doha and London, at least.
“Are you guys coming? I want to see the other exhibits too, not just stand
here.” Hanna materialized right in front of us, ever-present iPad clutched to
her chest.
A bit of annoyance crept into me. At her antics.
I was glad I didn’t have a little sister or brother.
Adam must have seen something on my face, because he laughed and
said, “She’s been a great big sister to me all these years. On top of being a
little sister.”
He paused, watched her opening the door for us with an exaggerated
flourish, and then added, “I guess she’s had to be all sorts of things.”
Oh. Yeah.
I hadn’t thought about how growing up without a mother must have
affected her.
And made Adam and her tight in a way I couldn’t understand.

---

Like Daadi’s death in October had dimmed some of the lights inside me
and made me clingy, to even a blanket my grandmother had knit for me.
We followed Hanna into another exhibit hall, both Adam and me quiet.
We drifted from artifact to artifact, sometimes the three of us together,
sometimes separately.
And then I glanced to my left and saw it.
The Marvels of Creation and Oddities of Existence.
That was the caption under a framed double-page spread with Arabic
writing and pictures of trees and plants.
THE INSPIRATION FOR MY JOURNAL WAS STARING AT ME.

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