vote, maybe even before the special election.
“Annnnd that’s enough of that.” My dad switches to a music channel.
“Put it back! We need to know what’s going on.”
“It’s Eid,” he says. “We get one day to take a break from it.”
“We can’t take days off. This is urgent.”
“Days off are as important as days on, bug. You have to recharge or you burn out. And your mom and the other board members are scheduling a sit-down with Holden’s people sometime next week.”
“She better be careful. Dickers is awful.”
“Dickers?”
“Holden’s legislative director. I met her last week. She was the absolute worst.”
“You went to Holden’s legislative director?” My father glances at me. “Subhanallah. That’s amazing.”
“It would have been more amazing if she hadn’t gaslit us the entire time.”
“But you did it. That’s something. I’m really proud of you, bug.”
“I guess. I just hate feeling like no matter what I do, it’s not enough.”
“No one person can fix it all,” my father says. “All our actions are little drops that collect into a groundswell for change. It’s the only way most change happens. Ordinary people doing everything they can. You’re doing that, Maya. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I want to hear more about this meeting. I’m popping into the office to wrap up a few patient charts while you and your mother do your manicures, but I’ll get you around six for dinner. You choose the spot. Oh, and before I forget—” He pops open the glove compartment and hands me a card. “Your Eidi. Spend it wisely.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I lean over and give him a hug.
I’m in line for the breakfast buffet after prayers when my mother finds me.
“There you are!” She hugs me tight. “Eid Mubarak, sweetie!”
It’s surreal to have our Eid hug here. She always wakes me up each Eid with a big hug—and even though it felt a little past its prime by the time I was thirteen, it’s so linked to Eid mornings, the whole day felt a little off-kilter without it.
I was so conflicted last night about who to stay with. On one hand, I wanted to be home. Willow goes on food strikes anytime I go to my dad’s—and all my stuff is at home—but I also figured this would be a tougher day for my dad, since he’s the one alone in a brand-new place with hardly any furniture.
Well, he has a bed now. So there’s that.
“What time’s our manicure?” I ask her. “I was thinking maybe we could spring for foot massages too?”
“About that.” Her face falls. “You know that trial coming up? My client needs to meet this afternoon. Last-minute complications. I have to go in for a little while.”
Complications. Complicated. My mother really likes plays on that word.
“I’m sorry.” She takes in my crestfallen expression. “This case has been taking up so much of my time, but it’s over soon. Rain check,” she promises. “And after it’s over, we’ll make a whole spa day and splurge on foot massages too. Sound like a plan?”
I nod and tell her it’s fine just as a board member walks over to steal her away for “a second.”
My phone buzzes. It’s probably Sara. She always remembers Eid.
But it’s not Sara. It’s Jamie.
I click the text.
There’s a GIF of a dancing gingerbread man and the words: Eid Mubarak! Happy eating day!
Lol, thanks! I reply.
I glance around the masjid. My father’s getting seconds. My mother is huddled up chatting with her fellow board members. Lyla Iqbal and a couple of other girls are over by the drinks—but I’m just not in the mood to mingle. I look down at my phone.
Maya: Want to hang out? I’m at the mosque but I can head over to wherever you are.
A word bubble pops up immediately, and then—
Jamie: I’ll come to you! On my way!
I press a thumbs-up to the text, and scroll down until I find my last exchange with Sara. It’s beneath messages from my mom, dad, and even Shelby, who had a new movie she wanted to group hang at. Our last text exchange was three days ago. Three days is three years in Maya-Sara time.
It is what it is. But it doesn’t make it suck any less.
I take a quick selfie by the buffet and post it on Instagram with the caption Eid Mubarak!
I can’t blame Sara if she didn’t think of it first thing in the morning. But she lives on Instagram, so this little nudge should remind her, in case she forgot. Which I’m sure