Huda and Me by H. Hayek (summer beach reads TXT) 📗

lips together, and I grabbed Raheed and gave him a cuddle. His warm squishy body always makes me feel better. Mum put a last couple of things into the suitcases and zipped them shut just as the twins walked into the bedroom.

‘Now listen, kids,’ started Mum, ‘you all need to show Aunt Amel your best manners. She’ll be a guest in our home, and she’s doing us a big favour by staying here for two weeks.’

‘Why do we need to call her Aunty when she’s not our real aunt?’ Layla asked, even though she already knew the answer.

‘I’ve told you before,’ Mum said, ‘it’s about respecting those who are older than us.’

The twins rolled their eyes and nodded. Huda stuck out her tongue and put her finger in her mouth, to make out that she was about to spew.

‘Enough of that, Huda. I don’t want to hear that you’ve been cheeky. And remember what I told you, Akeal?’ Mum glanced from me to Huda, reminding me of my promise.

‘I remember, Mum,’ I said.

Mum looked around at the five of us and then clapped her hands. ‘Come sit with me, my babies.’ She hopped onto her big bed, the perfectly made-up white quilt crumpling, and sat with her legs crossed in the middle.

Huda charged onto the bed first, almost like she was doing a bombie in a swimming pool. The rest of us jumped on too, Raheed still in my arms. Mum had tears in her eyes again.

‘Nothing’s the same as having your mum and dad with you, I know,’ she said. ‘But let me tell you something special about Aunt Amel. I met her two years ago at that halaqa class I used to go to. Remember the one on Tuesday nights?’

Huda groaned and leaned backwards. ‘Ugh, I hated that class. Dad would cook us mujadara every Tuesday, and it always turned out like runny soup filled with tiny lentil pebbles.’

I shuddered, remembering. Mum glanced up at Dad, who was standing by the bedroom door, and grinned. He raised one eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

‘Yes, well, I know Amel isn’t your favourite of our friends, but she’s always been very kind to me – like a sister, when I have none of my own family here.’ Mum’s voice trembled.

That made me sad for my mum, but I was glad she felt like she had a sister. I couldn’t imagine not having any of my siblings around, even though they can be annoying. Perhaps, I thought, even as annoying as Aunt Amel.

‘When Raheed was still a tiny baby, Amel was the one who helped us all through. You didn’t know it, but when you were at school and Baba was at work, she’d pick up bags of groceries for me. Then she’d stay to look after Raheed, so that I could rest.’

Mum smiled at Raheed and stroked the fine hair on his head. I raised my eyebrows, wondering if it was Aunt Amel who’d bought us all those donuts and sausage rolls when I was starting Grade 5. We hadn’t had them in our lunchboxes before or since.

Aunt Amel has never been like Mum and Dad’s other friends. Most of them sit in the fancy lounge room when they visit, with their ankles crossed, drinking from small Arabic coffee cups and talking about their kids’ ‘superb’ exam results.

Whenever Aunt Amel came over, though, she seemed to take up every space, all the time. One minute she’d be sitting on the couch reading with one of the twins, the next she’d be laughing with Mum at the stove, then two seconds after that she’d be pulling out weeds from around the letterbox. For the last two Eids she gave each of us a handmade card, with a poem she’d written inside. Akeal, you are a star. You like bunnies and you will go far. I think I’d mentioned to her once that a rabbit on TV was cute.

We liked Aunt Amel, sort of, but we didn’t like the idea of her being in charge of our house for two weeks.

‘Mother, you know we are capable of looking after ourselves,’ Suha said bluntly. ‘Aunt Amel just seems a little …’

‘… extra.’ Layla sniffed and nodded at her twin.

Mum sighed. ‘I understand you feel that way, but this is what Dad and I think is best. You are wonderful, clever, helpful kids, but you need an adult here. And besides, it will be nice for Aunt Amel, too – a change of scene. She lives in a tiny apartment. And she loves being around you kids.’

The five of us looked at each other, then back at Mum. Layla opened her mouth to say something, but Dad cut in.

‘Your mum is right. Now come on, it’s getting late. Akeal, help me with the suitcases.’

I popped Raheed onto Huda’s lap and sprang off the bed. Dad and I wheeled the bags out to the family room, where Omar and Kholoud were watching TV. They both think they’re so cool because they’re in high school, but Mum and Dad think they should focus more on studying instead of watching TV shows that are too rude for us younger kids.

Omar laughed at whatever he was watching and shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. Kholoud sat on the couch painting another coat of fluoro yellow onto her fingernails. I was about to tell her how ugly they looked when we heard a car pull up in the driveway. A door slammed shut. This was it. Aunt Amel had arrived.

Mum came out of her room holding Raheed, followed by Huda and the twins. I could see that they’d all been crying and was glad I’d got out of there before the waterworks erupted. The doorbell rang and we all froze.

Mum pulled herself together first. She opened the door and stretched out her arms to give Aunt Amel a hug.

I couldn’t see Aunt Amel at first because it was dark outside, but then she leaned forward. She was wearing a