Our house is eerily empty when I step inside, slightly damp from the rain. I sprinkle the water off of my umbrella and leave it to dry by our back door before heading upstairs. I’m hoping Abba isn’t home anymore, mostly because I have no idea what to say to him. I know I’ve got to make things up to him too, but I’m not quite sure how to go about that yet.
I push my bedroom door open, only to find Amma sitting on my bed, her eyebrows scrunched together as she stares at her phone. She glances up when the door creaks, and her face softens at the sight of me.
“You shouldn’t have gone out all by yourself in the rain,” she says. “Your hair’s all damp.”
“I took an umbrella,” I mumble. “But … the wind didn’t help with keeping the umbrella up.”
Amma sweeps past me, grabs a towel, and begins to dry me off, like I’m a kid and not seventeen years old. She does it so gently that it feels nice, but I feel a pit of despair in my stomach. I know Amma’s not been sitting in my bedroom waiting for me just to help me dry my hair.
“Your Abba told me about what happened today,” she says slowly, like she’s really picking and choosing her words. “He wasn’t expecting any of that. Not today of all days.”
“I said sorry,” I say, though my words sound hollow. What good is a “sorry” when I might have lost him his election? What good is a “sorry” when I followed it up by accusing him of manipulating people like Salim Uncle? “I feel bad about it … I know I shouldn’t have gone along with Aisling and Dee and abandoned canvassing. I know it’s important to Abba, and it’s important to me because it’s important to Abba, but—”
“Hani.” Amma cuts me off. Folding the towel up, she sits down on my bed once more. “I know you’ve been struggling with your friends, but it’s not a reason to abandon all the things that are important to you. Your friends shouldn’t have the power to dictate what you do … and how you support your family.”
“I know.” I can only hang my head in shame. I should have known better—but it was just so much easier to give in to Aisling and Dee’s demands. It always has been. “Is he home? I’ll apologize again, and anything that he needs me to do to make it right, I’ll—”
“He says you were right,” Amma interrupts. “About what you said … about how he hasn’t exactly been telling the truth either. He went to see Salim Bhai.”
“Oh.” I blink. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. “Did he … do we know the results yet?”
“The polls haven’t closed yet, Hani.” Amma chuckles. “We won’t know for sure until tomorrow morning.”
“I didn’t mean to make this day even worse for him,” I say. “But … he was just talking about all of these things I had done to support him and the election and … it made me feel like the worst daughter in the whole world.”
Amma reaches up and takes my hands in hers. She pulls me down on the bed beside her and brings me close until I’m in her embrace, and I can smell the scent of her coconut shampoo. It feels like forever since the two of us have sat down together and really caught each other up on what’s been going on in our lives. I got so caught up in my lies that I forgot all the important things.
“You made a mistake, and your Abba made a mistake too,” she murmurs. “It doesn’t make anybody the worst anything in the world. It just makes us human.”
Abba is sitting at the breakfast table the next morning when I come downstairs. There’s a frown on his lips as he types away at his laptop. I haven’t spoken to him since our awful conversation in the car—he didn’t come home from Salim Uncle’s house until late last night. Now I’m not sure how to break the overwhelming silence between us.
I don’t have to worry for long though, because as soon as he glances up and notices me, his entire demeanour changes. His expression softens, and a smile spreads across his lips.
“Hani,” he says, like seeing me this morning is the best thing that’s happened to him in ages. “Did you hear the good news?”
“You won?” I ask.
“I won.” He looks happier than I’ve ever seen him when he says this, and it takes a lot for me to not just jump up and down with happiness.
“You won! Abba … that’s … wow.” It feels like there aren’t enough words to really express how amazing it is that he’s won. Because Salim Uncle was right—it’s historic that he’s won. It’s historic that he was even in this election to begin with. He’s going to be the first ever Muslim and Bangladeshi person to have been elected as a councilor in Ireland. But my excitement is quickly clouded by our argument yesterday.