The Wrong Woman

2. Mouna

I chucked the bag onto the floor and rushed into our shared room; the only room in this tiny apartment. Grandma lay there, unmoving. My heart caught in my throat and I froze at the entrance. Before I knew it, I flung myself to her and sobbed, my head resting on her chest.

"Grandma!"

All of a sudden, she began to move under me. "Hm, what are you doing, screaming and crying?"

I sat back and stared at her, the tears falling and moving on but my body still stuck in time. What...she was ok? "Why did you scream on the phone? You weren't moving so I thought—"

"That I was dead?"

It was like a huge punch to the stomach and I bent over, placing my head on my lap. I wanted to get angry with her, the pumping of my blood through my veins and the throbbing in my head was so ferocious that my vision was startlingly bright. "I was so scared," I whispered. "You can't do that to me, grandma!"

"You only call me grandma when you're mad...are you mad?"

"Of course I'm mad. I thought something bad had happened. I was afraid. I only have you left." I felt her hand on my head now, stroking down my curly mane that had come out of its tight ponytail.

"I'm sorry, Mo. I only tried to do the small exercises that Dr Arshan instructed, but I twisted my knee a little."

"Dr. Arshan had made it extremely clear that you weren't supposed to do that without me."

"I know but I got bored sitting around doing nothing." I straightened up and observed her. Her thin lips were pale and scrunched up, resembling a prune. She played with the gold bangles on her wrists. "I don't like that you work so hard because of me. You're young. You're not supposed to be playing care-taker."

My rage subsided at this. She was worried. I settled right beside her on the narrow bed, wrapping my arms around her. "I'm not playing caretaker. And I'm not doing what I do because I have to or because I feel like I need to. I want to. I love you, Mohi. You're my mom and my dad. Just because you can't do things that you used to be able to doesn't mean I see you as anything less than that."

There was silence for a long time. But from the sniffles above me and the kisses that she placed on my head, told me she had heard me just fine.

"I just wish life for us was better than this," I mumbled.

"You of all people should know that you should be careful with wishes. Sometimes, when we wish for something, especially when we are unhappy with ourselves, there is always a catch. That is how the tale goes."

The tale again. I frowned up at her. "There is no harm in saying it, Mohi."  She didn't respond, leaving me to ponder her words.

A catch.

Despite that, I still wanted to live a life that was bigger than this with my grandma. If I were someone with a lot of money, I could give her the treatment she needed to better her knee. If I were someone else, I wouldn't have had to work two jobs or study online with the little free time that I had.

Maybe thinking like this was wrong.

But dreaming about it couldn't hurt.