Written by a Woman

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

ZAID

Getting a text from Salma two hours before I stood on her doorstep, letting me know that Signe had to bail on babysitting was just what I needed tonight. Instead of sitting at home, spiraling about what Signe was up to while she played with my nephew, I got the chance to go play with the little guy myself. That, and I would be too busy playing with Zeki to let myself wonder too much if Signe was okay. If she canceled on Salma because she was sick, or had an emergency, or anything else that was none of my business.

However, when I knocked on Salma’s door to a sheepish but stylish-looking Ben, I immediately grew suspicious.

“What is it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at my brother-in-law.

“Salma being Salma,” Ben wouldn’t meet my eyes as he waved me through the threshold, giving me space to toe off my sneakers before I heard squeals of laughter from Zeki himself.

“You’re so fast!”

That voice, however, made me halt my steps and shoot a wide-eyed look at Ben. He tried his hardest not to smile, but he patted my shoulder as he continued our walk to the living room.

“My love,” Ben called to his wife when we entered the space. Signe was chasing little Zeki around the couch, making him cackle almost maniacally while my sister stood off to the side, bending over to slip on her heels for date night.

“Yeah?” She turned towards her husband and gave us her wide-eyed surprised look. The way she dropped her mouth and froze her movements for a bit was so convincing, that I almost believed the act she was putting on for Signe’s benefit. Signe, who had picked up Zeki after successfully catching him, also stiffened a little bit at my unexpected presence.

“Ayre,” Salma murmured, standing straight, and pressing her palm to her forehead in false distress, “I forgot to let you know that we didn’t need you.”

“Oh,” I nodded, narrowing my eyes at her the slightest bit before shoving my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants and shrugging. Sweatpants, I was wearing fucking sweatpants in front of this woman.

She was wearing casual clothing too, leggings and a baggy shirt that—wait—was that my shirt?

“Hi Zaid,” Signe smiled, setting a wiggling Zeki back down on the ground when he struggled out of her hold to run straight towards me.

“Hey Z,” I grinned, bending low and wrapping my nephew up in a hug before spinning him once. His peals of laughter were contagious, and I found myself chuckling a little bit as he kept patting my arm to encourage me to toss him up in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Salma was rubbing the back of her neck, and her expression was a perfectly practiced one of remorse. She was such a good liar, “I didn’t mean to schedule you both.”

“Oh, it’s no worries,” Signe played with her fingers nervously, before nodding and smiling at my nephew in my hands, “I can take off if Zaid wants to babysit tonight.”

“No, it’s okay. I can leave,” I shook my head as I set Zeki back down, only for him to shake his head and wrap his arms around my legs desperately.

“No!” Zeki whined, digging his forehead into my shins as if I was seconds from disappearing on him.

Signe’s expression warmed at the sight of Zeki clutching to me so desperately, and I felt immediately uncomfortable at the situation my sister had put us in.

“It’s alright,” Signe, grinned, waving at Salma and Ben as they continued to get their coats and Salma’s purse, “Maybe I can come play with you another time, yeah?” Signe brushed her fingers through Zeki’s hair as she made her way to pass by us, making him lift his head from my shins and reach out to grab her—actually my—t-shirt.

“No!” Zeki cried, now holding both of us captive in his tiny little fists. He tugged and Signe stumbled into my side a bit at the movement, grabbing onto my bicep to catch herself before tripping over my nephew.

“You can both stay, if you want,” Salma casually spoke over her shoulder as Ben helped her into her coat. I lifted my head to glare at my sister because this was very much overstepping, except Signe had already turned to look at me with a casual shrug of her shoulder and a friendly smile.

“Would you be okay with me staying here too?”

Her hand had just released itself from my bicep, and the loss of heat from her touch made me instinctively lean closer to her. Hopefully, the movement could be written off by Zeki’s death grip on the both of us, but I hardly ever got this physically close to Signe, and now my body was humming with energy at the reality of this situation.

“Of course,” I glanced down at my nephew with a grin, wondering if Salma had somehow put her three-year-old up to this, “I don’t think Z’s giving us a choice anyway.”

“I wouldn’t disappoint the toddler if I were you two,” Salma nodded, patting Ben on the ass once and loud enough to make him blush, “We’re planning on being out late, but make yourselves at home.” Without letting either of us respond, she grabbed Ben’s hand and rushed for the front door, “Have fun, and thanks again!” Ben managed to wave goodbye to us before he and my sister were gone, the sound of the front door closing behind them echoing in the space as Zeki finally released his grip on Signe and me and reached his arms up to be held.

“So,” Signe bent down to oblige him, “What do you want to do first?” she asked as she sauntered back towards the play area of the living room they were in before, “Watch TV? Play?”

“Play!” Zeki squealed, pointing to a rubber ball near his shelf of toys. Signe smiled at me over her shoulder as she let the little man down so he could retrieve his toy. I gave myself a silent pep talk, determined not to spiral about how unprepared I felt for co-babysitting with Signe.

I pulled my phone out to send a quick text to my sister while Signe and Zeki got started on rolling the ball back and forth to each other.

Me: You aren’t clever. Did you put your son up to this, too?

Salma: Believe it or not, that was all him.

Me: This is messed up. You’re really overstepping, Sal.

Salma: Unrelated, there are condoms in Ben’s nightstand drawer.

Then I immediately closed the text thread and pocketed my phone before I vomited in my mouth at the thought of Salma and Ben ever needing condoms.

“You want to get in on this?” Signe’s voice pulled me back into the room. Zeki started slapping the ground next to him, attempting to get me to join.

“Of course,” I grinned, tickling my nephew on his tummy once as I settled in on the ground with my legs crossed.

* * *

SIGNE

Sweatpants.

The man was wearing sweatpants .

They were black, not light grey, so it wasn’t like they were super scandalous. Logically, I knew that Zaid’s sweatpants probably weren’t scandalous at all, but my filthy smut-loving brain couldn’t handle the sight of him casually walking into his sister’s house, completely surprised at my presence there.

As I picked up all the toys around the living room, while Zaid laid his nephew down for bedtime, my mind kept replaying specific moments throughout the night that I knew would stick with me forever.

Moments like Zaid sitting cross-legged on the floor in his sweatpants.

Like Zaid bending over to grab his nephew, his sweatpants showing off those glorious glutes I admired way more than I should.

Or when Zaid carried Zeki in his hands and allowed the kiddo to kick off of the various walls and reachable ceiling, letting him pretend to be Spider-Man, showing off the muscles in his arms and shoulders through the long-sleeved Henley shirt that he wore.

It was as if this night was specifically designed to make me think the most inappropriate thoughts about Zaid possible. There was no posture or position that Zaid could be in that didn’t show off how beautiful the man was. He didn’t even have a double chin when he laid on his back as his nephew sat on his chest and pretended to beat him up.

And the fact that Zaid was probably the sweetest and most involved uncle I had ever seen? I was a goner. It was hopeless. My crush on Zaid was rapidly developing, even though that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Zaid’s face lit up whenever Zeki did the most mundane, unimpressive things, as if his three-year-old nephew was the light of his life, and it made my heart feel like it was going to fall out of my vagina.

How could it not?

Here I was, no better than the average man who sexualized a woman simply because she was attractive and existed.

Zaid wore sweatpants, and if he stepped a certain way, I could probably see a perfect outline of everything the man was packing. Because of this, I adamantly averted my gaze whenever the opportunity to see said hypothetical outline arose. I knew myself; I knew that if I saw anything, I would gape at it, and that he would undoubtedly notice my gaping, and then he would probably cover himself up and kindly ask that I leave.

And then we would both go to work on Monday and things would be weird for the rest of our days. Anytime we passed each other, we would probably pretend we hadn’t been ‘kind of’ friends the last couple of months. Instead, he’d probably tell himself, don’t make eye contact with the groin starer , and I wouldn’t blame him one bit.

“He’s down,” Zaid’s deep voice startled me out of my panicking thoughts, making me drop a few blocks and gasp as I spun around to face him. His dark brows rose over the black rim of his glasses a moment before he quickly dropped back to the floor with me to help pick up the toys, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m fine,” I giggled nervously as we both deposited the blocks back in their bin. I was blushing, blushing . He was close enough to remind me that his cologne was mouthwatering.

“Did you have too much caffeine?” Zaid asked, and I could hear the smirk on his lips even though I was standing and making my way over to the couch, desperate for space.

“Why?”

“You’re…twitchy.” Zaid’s brows furrowed as he slowly followed me to the couch to sit on the opposite side, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I grinned a little too wide but knew I couldn’t come back from it, “What are we going to watch?” I grabbed the remote and immediately hit the power button, but the TV screen remained black.

“That’s the sound system remote,” Zaid stepped forward and gently removed the controller from my hands, his warm fingers brushing over mine casually even though my heart jumped as if he tried to cop a feel.

“Oh,” I settled back onto the couch, tucking my legs underneath myself and leaning against the throw pillows on the armrest, “What’s your favorite movie?”

Zaid hesitated for half a second before he shrugged and asked me, “What’s yours?”

“I’m easy to please,” whoa, there, Signe , “I’ll watch almost anything.”

“Almost?” Zaid asked, his eyes glancing over at me as he continued to scroll through the options on the TV screen.

“I have to be in the right headspace for things like Game of Thrones ,” I admitted, “Violence and gore isn’t fun to watch when you aren’t ready for it.”

“That’s fair,” Zaid nodded, glancing over at me again, and raising his eyebrows as he asked, “What about Bluey ?”

“Sure, what’s that?” I asked, grabbing the throw blanket that was resting on the arm of the couch and throwing it over my legs. It wasn’t until I had adjusted my seat to fit the blanket over the entire lower half of my body that I realized Zaid didn’t answer my question, and I glanced up from my fidgeting to see him staring at me wide-eyed and open-mouthed, “What?”

“Did you just ask me what Bluey is?” Zaid asked as a shocked chuckle escaped his lips, “Is this your first day on planet Earth?”

I cackled, before slapping my hand over my lips because I remembered that little Zeki was supposed to be sleeping.

“Geez,” I laughed behind my hand, “Zaid, that was so mean!”

He rolled his eyes as he lifted the remote and pressed play on the movie he was talking about. I settled in and was surprised to see a blue screen with cartoon dogs dancing.

As soon as each member of the cartoon dog family was introduced (Mom, Dad, Bingo, and Bluey) I slowly turned my head to look at Zaid.

He was watching the TV intently. One of his arms was stretched out on the back of the couch while the other rested on the armrest. He had one ankle resting on his knee, and I could see his lips twitch as he noticed my slow head turn in his peripheral vision.

“Zaid?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this a kids show?”

“I think it’s a show for all ages.” He countered, leveling me with an annoyed expression I didn’t buy for one second.

“So, it’s a kids show,” I laughed, “Why are we watching a kids show? The kid is in bed.”

“I think you need to watch a couple of episodes to understand, shush.” He nodded his head towards the TV, desperately trying to hold back his grin of amusement.

“A couple of episodes?” I asked, sitting up a little in mock outrage.

“They’re like eight minutes long, shush!” Zaid lifted his hand off the arm of the couch to point at the TV, raising his eyebrows at me like a parent waiting for their child to comply. I laughed as I snuggled up with my throw blanket and settled in.

The first episode was cute because it was, in fact, a children’s show, but there was a one-liner that the mom delivered that made me laugh out loud.

The second episode had some comedic moments from the youngest sibling that I also really enjoyed.

The third episode got me. It was insane to me that this was for kids, because the entire episode was a flashback of the mom when Bluey was a baby, and how easy it is to assume the worst of your abilities as a mother. I found myself getting emotional, and by the end of the episode when the mom realizes that she doesn’t need to compare herself to all the other mothers, I turned my head and gaped at Zaid.

He was watching me with a knowing smirk on his face, noting the tears I was desperately trying to keep contained in my eyeballs.

“How dare they do that to me,” I breathed, “This is a kids show?” I asked.

“I told you,” Zaid shook his head once as the next episode started playing. The theme song would surely be stuck in my head for a while. “I’m just grateful that my sister has a kid now,” Zaid lifted a shoulder, “So I can at least try to justify the chokehold this show has on me.”

I laid my head back on the couch and laughed, smothering the sound with my hand again so I didn’t wake up little Zeki. I heard Zaid rumble his laughter next to me on the couch before we both settled into silence, giving this Australian cartoon our undivided attention.

Until I asked Zaid a question that popped into my mind, “Do you want kids?”

Zaid’s dark eyes darted to me quickly, and I immediately lifted my hands up defensively, “I know it’s a personal question,” I added, “But I’m not going to lie to you, you’re giving off a lot of strong dad energy tonight.”

“Strong dad energy?” Zaid asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Like a man who has baby fever.”

I could see the tips of his ears redden, and I desperately wanted to know why, “I wouldn’t call it ‘baby fever’ exactly.” Zaid shrugged a shoulder before rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, “I always liked the idea of kids, though.”

“Huh,” I nodded my head toward him, “I can see that for you.”

We sat in comfortable silence again for a few moments, and it wasn’t until I laughed at another one-liner delivered by Bluey’s parents that Zaid spoke up again, “What about you?”

I knew what he was asking, so I took a moment to think about my answer, “I mean, I’m not going out of my way to watch kids’ shows,” I gave him a pointed look and he narrowed his eyes at me, before smiling, “But I’m not against them.”

“Not against them,” Zaid replied with a nod of his head.

“It’s just,” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, wondering how best to explain my complex feelings about it, “I feel like too often women who have baby fever focus on the baby fever part, and spend less time considering if their partner is someone who should be a parent. But the thing is, I don’t believe everyone should be a parent,” I could feel Zaid’s eyes on the side of my face, but I continued, “I can find someone I love, someone I can see myself spending the rest of my life with, while also understanding that that person may not ever want kids. Or, that they possibly shouldn’t have kids depending on their specific circumstances. So, while I think that it’s fun to romanticize the idea of having kids now and then, I’m not making it a goal I want to check off quite yet. I want to find out who my forever partner is, first. If that person ends up being someone who also wants kids, then I’ll consider the option more seriously.”

There was a silence hanging between us after I finished my ramblings, and I glanced over at Zaid to see him studying me with a thoughtful expression.

“That’s very…mindful,” the corner of his lips tipped up, “So, eventually, you’d like to settle down with someone?”

“Sure,” I lifted my shoulder, “But I don’t think that’s a box I’m trying to check immediately either. I know that I don’t need anyone else to complete me. I’m already whole and fulfilled as is. That being said, if I stumble upon someone who I can see myself spending the rest of my life with, I won’t fight it either.”

Zaid was silent again, so I raised my eyebrows at him before adding, “Sorry, that was a lot of rambling.”

“Don’t apologize,” Zaid smiled, “I was just wondering if you could have a word with my mother. Her entire focus lately has been finding me a wife.”

“Didn’t Nikhil say something about that?” I tilted my head to the side as I remembered the conversation in front of my desk, “Is it hard? Having your mom on your ass like that?”

Zaid huffed a laugh before lifting his hand, splaying his fingers, and tilting his hand side to side, “Yes and no. On the one hand, it is something I want because I do think I would be happy with a partner. I’m just not thrilled at how involved my mother wants to be in the process.”

“Ah,” I adjusted my seat on the couch, my cheeks heating a little bit at the thought of Zaid finding a person he loves, and being excited about starting a life with them, “Can’t relate. My mom doesn’t care if I’m in a relationship or not. She just wants me happy, however that looks.”

“Must be nice,” Zaid released a heavy sigh with the words as he focused back on the cartoon dogs on the TV screen. I gave myself a few more moments to admire Zaid. Seeing him casually sprawled out on the couch, happily watching a children’s cartoon was doing things to me. I was serious when I informed Zaid of my stance on kids and romantic relationships, but I also couldn’t deny the flutter my heart made throughout our conversation.

How I discovered that this introverted, work-focused man longed for a family of some kind.

Sure, he said that he liked “the idea” of kids but show me one grown man who enjoys children’s cartoons like this. Who happily babysits his nephew after what I assumed was a long day at work? I had a feeling that whoever Zaid ended up with, they were going to have the most loving man in the world fawning over them.

Inside of me, a little green monster of jealousy growled at the thought.

But…I was the one sitting on his sister’s couch watching cartoons with him.

I was the one at work he was becoming more and more friendly with.

Perhaps Mary was onto something a few weeks ago when I told her about the book, perhaps something was happening between the two of us. Something that we both weren’t ready to acknowledge quite yet.