Page 24 of Poinsettia Lane

He reaches out and lays his hand so very gently on top of hers where she’s picking at her nails. It’s a nervous habit she can’t seem to break.

“That’s okay. You didn’t know, and it was a reasonable suggestion.” Everly pulls her hands from his and drops them into her lap, fisting the fabric of her sweater instead. She tries to make her voice nonchalant to match her words, but there’s still a slight wobble to it. “Besides, even though I’m working on things with my sister, she doesn’t live close anyways.”

“Where does she live?” he asks.

“She’s in San Diego. She’s lived there since our parents died, actually.” Everly doesn’t know why she’s telling him all of this, other than he’s asking and is surprisingly easy to talk to.

“Is that why you aren’t close? Because you live so farapart?” Asim’s eyebrows crinkle in the middle, and the way he watches her so intently makes it clear he’s invested in what she has to say.

“Maybe?” Everly isn’t sure. “She was attending UCSD when it happened. She inherited the beach house there, and I inherited this place here, and I don’t know… I think we both must have gotten caught up in our own grief and trying to move on in our own ways. We just drifted apart and it lasted up until that holiday party actually. She’s never come before, but she came this year.” Everly pauses and takes a deep breath. “It’s the first time I’ve seen or talked to her since the year they died,” she confesses.

She can’t look at him, but that doesn’t stop her from hearing him suck in a breath at that confession, and Everly knows as soon as she looks up she’ll see the judgment in his face. So she doesn’t. Everly focuses on her fidgeting fingers in her lap, playing with a loose thread from her sweater.

Asim stands and walks slowly around the counter, only stopping when he’s inches away from her. He swivels her stool gently so they’re facing each other, giving her time to protest if she wants to. Asim places his hands on her upper arms, then slowly skims them down, picking her hands up from her lap and holding them in his to calm their movements again. Her fingers look delicate encased in his much larger grip, and she focuses for a second on the rough feel of his calluses against her skin. Everly still hasn’t lifted her gaze, and after he transfers both of her hands into one of his, Asim nudges her chin up with his forefinger so she’s looking up at him.

“Grief looks different for everyone," he says, slow and deep and with so much earnestness it takes her breath away. “It’s okay to take whatever time and space you need, and when you’re ready, if you want to, you can always reach out and see if she wants to reconnect.”

Her eyes are glassy, and she’s afraid to blink or they might spill over. She has no memories of anyone treating her with such gentle care and empathy before. After her parents died, it was all about planning and moving forward. Planning the funeral, transferring theproperties, continuing their work on the hotel, and in general trying to get a solid foothold in this new world without them. There was never time for crying and softness and gentle condolences, not even with Frankie.

Or maybe she just never allowed herself that emotional space.

Everly nods in response to his words, which unfortunately knocks loose a couple of those tears filling her eyes. Asim brushes them away, his calluses a soft scratch on her cheeks, then lifts her hands and kisses her fingertips before placing them back in her lap. His lips are soft and warm, and she wants to feel them again. He sits next to her instead of back across the counter, and he waits. Everly isn’t sure what he’s waiting for until she finds herself talking again a few moments later.

“I’ve been trying to reconnect with her. My sister. Addison.” She clarifies. “She was here when you dropped everything off actually, she’d only been here for a little while before you showed up.”

“Wow, gotta hand it to me,” he says with a huff. “I don’t think I could have had worse timing if I tried.”

Everly musters a smile, though it’s fleeting. “It was okay. It was a weird morning all around. We got together a couple more times while she was in town though and it got easier to see and talk to her, and we’ve been calling and texting since she left.”

“That’s great, Everly.” Asim beams at her, straightening up a little in his seat.

“Yeah, it is pretty great isn’t it.” Everly’s smile lasts longer this time. “We’re doing pretty good I think, considering how much time we lost. What about you? Do you have family nearby?”

“Oh yes. My family is a lot.” Asim’s wide grin doesn’t match the exasperated tone he uses to describe his family, and she can tell they’re important to him. “And I mean that literally. I have four siblings. I’m the oldest at thirty six. After me is my sister, then two brothers, and another sister. We’re all only a couple years apart and I have no idea how my parents managed all of us in one household.”

“I can’t even imagine.” Everly knows her eyes are big, because she really can’t imagine what that must havebeen like. She thought her one sister was a lot to handle growing up, but having four younger siblings must have been chaos most of the time.

“As I said, they’re a lot. They’re great though. We all grew up speaking Arabic, I’m grateful my parents didn’t want us to lose that connection to our homeland, even though many people looked down on us for it. My parents still live in one of the suburbs north of Phoenix, which is where we grew up, but my siblings have mostly moved out of state. One of my sisters, Farah, the older one, lives in Phoenix too, so she’s not too far, but that’s it, and the rest of my extended family is back in Iraq.” He says with a shrug, though she can hear in his voice that he misses them. There’s still a light in his eyes, but it’s dampened by talking about how far away everyone is.

“What part of Iraq?” she asks. “Have you been there?”

“I was born there actually, in northern Iraq, kind of near the border with Turkey. I haven’t visited so much lately, but when we were growing up my parents made it a point to take us whenever they could. I know they miss their family that still lives there.” Asim’s eyes brighten again when he talks about his family, just like they did when talking about the plants he grows. Everly is shocked to find she isn’t feeling any jealousy or hurt when he has something so wonderful that she doesn’t, as she often has flares of envy when she sees families happily shopping or eating together downtown. She would love to hear more about his family, and maybe even meet them someday.

“Wow, that’s a big move. When did you come to the US?”

“After my first sister was born, so I don’t remember much of it. My grandparents passed and I guess my parents wanted to start somewhere new.” Asim pauses for a moment, then continues with a softer note to his voice. “My bike is a replica of his, actually. My grandfather’s. My parents say he had one just like it.”

“Your motorcycle?” Everly clarifies, pointing toward the front of the house.

Asim nods, his eyes growing distant. “Yeah. I wish I could have met him, from what my parents say he sounds like an amazing man.”

“I’m sure he was. It’s really cool you have the same bike though.”

Asim nods, a quiet smile on his face.

“So what made you move out here? I mean if your parents and sister are still in Phoenix, and your other siblings have moved away, why did you choose this random little town?”

Asim’s eyes crinkle up when his smile turns to a crooked grin. “Okay, don’t judge me.” He says, holding his hands up to ward her off.

---