Worlds Apart Read online

  “I live here, but yeah, I do travel a lot for work. I’ve got a little downtime in the next couple of weeks, which is great. Speaking of,” Isabel took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “There is this new Lebanese restaurant that just opened by Stanley Park. Would you be interested in going with me? I have always liked Mediterranean food but am a little intimidated to go someplace super authentic by myself. Be my guide, and I’ll treat?”

  Layla’s eyes widened at the question, but she seemed to recover quickly. “That sounds great. I would love to. Should we exchange numbers?”

  They were interrupted as Penny called that their ride was here and that they needed to go.

  Isabel took Layla’s phone out of her hands and quickly programmed her number into it before handing it back, her hands not quite leaving the phone and lingering on Layla’s. “There you go,” She said with a shy smile.

  “It was so great meeting you,” Layla said again, near a whisper.

  “You too,” Isabel said, sliding her hands off Layla’s before she turned to walk towards her friends who had already crawled into the car. Once inside, they all waved at Layla again. Toni screamed “GOODNIGHT SWEET LAYLA,” out of the car window as Penny yelled at Toni to put her seatbelt on and Isabel laughed, all the while maintaining eye contact with Layla until they pulled away out of sight.

  ***

  Layla stepped into the shower as soon as she got back to her hotel room, and she couldn’t help her mind from wandering over the events of the night. Layla longed to run her fingers through Isabel’s hair that she imagined to be soft to the touch. The way her body moved on the dance floor, shy but graceful. The way her collar bone peeked out from under the collar of her shirt. Layla could feel herself getting turned on and she groaned. How long had it been since she had been intimate with someone? Four, five months? She sighed as she unhooked the detachable shower head and lowered it to the spot on her body that cried for attention, letting herself drift away in her mind. She climaxed not long after, finished her shower, brushed her teeth, then collapsed into bed where she dreamt of being in a web series of her own centered around dating someone completely out of her league.

  Chapter Two

  Sunday

  The next morning Layla checked her phone for a text from Marco, and when there wasn’t one, she figured she would treat herself to room service since they probably weren’t meeting for breakfast. A quick call and 30 minutes later, Layla was enjoying delicious coffee and breakfast in the comfort of her bed. She turned on the TV to see what was on, and after 15 minutes of flipping through the channels turned the TV off. She picked up her phone, wondering if it was too soon to text Isabel. She pushed the doubts out of her mind and sent her a text anyway.

  Remember that time I said there was nothing worse than late-night Canadian TV? I stand corrected — Sunday morning Canadian TV.

  A couple of minutes went by before Layla received a response.

  Hmm, I could have sworn we talked about this. Something an orangutan is your president something?

  Is that REALLY the way you want to speak to your Lebanese cuisine guide? Seems risky.

  You’re right, that does seem risky. I’ll save the rest of my trash talk until after dinner.

  Smart and sensible? I need to watch out for you.

  Elinor Dashwood doesn’t have anything on me ;)

  They made plans for an early dinner the next day, and it wasn’t long before Marco was back in Layla’s hotel room gushing about his night, and morning escapades with Elliott. They seemed to really hit it off and sounded like they would be spending a lot of time together that week once Marco finished work. Layla helped Marco get all his ducks in a row for his big meeting the next morning, and after dinner where Marco grilled her over Isabel - they each called it an early night. Layla drew herself a bath in the luxurious oversized bathtub in her hotel room, poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle she bought at a local store, and finally picked up one of the many books she had been meaning to read but hadn’t gotten around to yet. She fell asleep excited about her date with Isabel, as she recognized that she hadn’t been that excited in a long time.

  Chapter Three

  Monday

  Layla looked in her suitcase, frustrated that she didn’t think to pack anything remotely close to date attire. She had various pairs of jeans and comfortable shirts, and the one outfit that was fit to go out in she wore Saturday night. She settled on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, a pair of ankle-length brown boots and a baby blue button-up that was loose and comfortable. She put on light makeup and let her loose curls out of her ponytail to fall around her shoulders.

  Layla arrived early, per usual, and used that time to walk around a bit taking in the shops near Stanley Park and the restaurant. She liked Vancouver; it was a beautiful city full of diverse people that lacked the hipster vibe that had taken over Portland as of the last decade. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out to find a text from Marco

  Good luck on your date! Can’t wait to hear how it goes.

  I’m not even sure it’s a date.

  Oh, it’s a date. You know how lesbians are. You’ll probably text me after your date from the Humane Society with a photo of the animal you’re co-adopting.

  A) I don’t know that she is a lesbian. B) I’m sorry, was it not YOU that fell in love at first sight with Elliott? Have you met his parents yet? Bet you five dollars you apply for a full-time job in Vancouver by weeks end.

  It’s not my fault you’re rubbing off on me. I want to commit to this man and have his babies. Don’t judge me.

  Never would. Okay, I’ve gotta go so I’m not late. Talk soon. Xoxo

  You wouldn’t care about being late if it wasn’t a date! Wait. Yes, you would. But it’s still a date. HAVE FUN.

  Layla pocketed her phone and walked back to the restaurant, and after checking that Isabel wasn’t there yet, waited outside for her since it was a beautiful day out, and she wanted to feel the sun on her skin. Moments later, she noticed Isabel walking towards her from across the street. Isabel was wearing form-fitting black jeans, paired with some black oxfords and a green v neck shirt that Layla knew she was going to find very distracting.

  Layla and Isabel smiled at each other as soon as they made eye contact, and once Isabel was close, Layla pushed herself off the wall and went to greet her. Layla leaned in and brushed a quick kiss on her cheek. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself. You look great.”

  “You too,” Layla said as she opened the door for Isabel then followed her into the restaurant.

  Layla smiled as she took in the restaurant. It was decorated like many restaurants back in Lebanon, which made her long for a visit back home. It was a small, cozy place, and looked like a family ran it. They had traditional old school lanterns all over the restaurant, Lebanese music playing in the background and the slight scent of incense which was instantly comforting for Layla. After they were seated and handed the menus, the server excused himself and said he would be back in a few to get their drink orders.

  Layla looked over the menu and saw all the food she grew up eating and was thrilled to see both English and Arabic descriptions of the food on the menu. Layla smiled, thinking this place is legit.

  As if reading her mind, Isabel set her menu down. “So, what do you think?”

  “This place is the real deal. Anything look good for you?”

  “Honestly I don’t know what I’m looking at aside from falafel and hummus. What do you think of ordering for us and I’ll learn as we go?”

  Layla smiled, appreciating Isabel’s openness. “Sure! Any food restrictions or allergies or anything?”

  “None at all. Go wild.”

  Layla looked up from her menu and smiled at Isabel. “Don’t tempt me.”

  Isabel blushed, and Layla went back to the menu. The server approached their table, and Layla took a chance by speaking to him in Arabic. Gone was the polite and professional server who greeted them, replaced with a megawat
t smile and mile a minute conversation in Arabic. Layla could see Isabel watching her in her peripheral vision, and once the server had taken their orders and walked back towards the kitchen, she slowly turned to face her.

  “Wow, impressive,” Isabel said.

  “Yes indeed. I am amazing. Tell everyone,” Layla said with a smirk, though she could feel the heat rising to her face.

  “And so humble. How did I find myself in such wonderful company?”

  “If memory serves you asked,” Layla said, playfully challenging Isabel.

  “I did didn’t I?” she said, as she lifted the tip of her finger to her chin, and looked up to the ceiling as if deep in thought.

  Layla couldn’t help but steal a look at the column of Isabel’s throat as her hair slid back with the simple movement. She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat as Isabel caught Layla checking her out, proven by the smirk she gave Layla.

  “Now who’s humble,” Layla mumbled as she spotted their server on his way to the table with a couple of the appetizers she had ordered.

  Layla explained the dishes to Isabel, who eagerly tasted each and picked out her favorites. Layla appreciated that Isabel seemed genuine in her interest in the names of the dishes, what was in them, and how she wasn’t afraid to try food she’d never had before. Fewer things irritated Layla more than people who were unwilling to try new foods, especially from other countries, simply because it was different.

  Mid-way through eating their appetizers, a song came on in the restaurant that made Layla stop mid-bite and put her fork down. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly as if to soak in the sound. Isabel had started to say something but stopped, snapping Layla out of her momentary trance.

  “This is probably my favorite Arabic song of all time,” Layla said quietly. She began humming the song, and eventually, she started singing it. By the time the song was over, a tear had escaped Layla’s eye, and before she had a chance to wipe it away, Isabel had reached out and brushed it off Layla’s cheek with her thumb. “That was beautiful,” Isabel whispered. “What was it about?”

  Layla took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “It is a sad story about a woman in love with a man, who asks her to wait for him, but he never comes. The seasons go by while she waits, and the rain pours. One day a stranger hands her a letter that her long lost love wrote, but when she opens the letter the rain had washed the words away and the song ends.”

  “Wow. That is so sad.”

  Layla paused for a moment, then shook her head. “It is. Wait until I tell you about my favorite book, you’re going to think I have a complex,” Layla said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

  Isabel looked back at her thoughtfully. “What is it? Your favorite book.”

  “The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini. Have you read it?”

  “No, although the title rings a bell. Did they make it into a movie?”

  Layla lit up. “They did, but I’m a far bigger fan of the book. You know how it goes. There’s just so much more an author can do because they have the time and space to tell a story you know? The movie doesn’t have the luxury of all that time. It’s tragic, but so much of it is about redemption and the human spirit. It’s just so God damn powerful.” Layla took a deep breath in, her love for the story on clear display.

  “Wow,” Isabel sat back in her chair. “You make me want to read it. Like right now.”

  “I think I remember a book store on this block; maybe we can go pick it up after dinner?”

  Isabel smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

  A woman dressed in a hijab came out of the back of the restaurant carrying the rest of their food, and she addressed Layla immediately in Arabic. Just like before with their server, Layla and the woman spoke as if they were long lost friends. She asked Layla if she was local, and Layla explained how she was just in town for the week, and that she was there with her friend who was. The woman turned to Isabel and spoke to her in English.

  “I hear this is your first time in a Lebanese restaurant. Welcome, thank you for coming. I hope you are having a good time. My name is Mariam. What is your name?”

  “My name is Isabel, thank you I am having a wonderful time. Everything is so delicious. Do you cook this all yourself?”

  Mariam straightened proudly. “Yes, me and my husband, but he is not as pretty as me, so I leave him in the back of the restaurant,” she said with a joyful laugh. “Well, Isabel, you are welcome here anytime. Since you came with Layla, you are family now. Come see your new friend Mariam and I will take good care of you.”

  “That sounds great thank you so much,” Isabel said as she turned to Layla once Mariam had walked to the back of the restaurant. “Did I get quasi adopted by that wonderful woman? This is the best day of my life.”

  Layla laughed and nodded as she proceeded to guide her through the rest of their meal. They talked about Layla’s job, what it was like working in politics, and what her day to day looked like. They then talked about Isabel’s work, the projects she had taken on and what she was excited to work on next. Layla mentioned how she had seen the web series that Isabel starred in, but they didn’t dwell on that. Layla didn’t want Isabel to think that’s the reason she was interested in her, and Isabel seemed happy to move beyond the subject.

  The sun was starting to make its way over the restaurant, shining through the windows onto their table.

  “This light brings out the different colors in your eyes. They’re beautiful,” Isabel said, and Layla felt the color rise to her cheeks. Soon however, she noticed the light was harming Isabel, as she was squinting and trying to keep the light from her eyes.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Layla asked.

  “Yeah, sorry. I get migraines sometimes, and I feel one coming on. I’m okay, though, don’t worry.”

  “Do you get them a lot?”

  “Unfortunately. I usually carry migraine medicine on me at all times, I didn’t bring my purse today, so here we are,” she smiled uncomfortably, trying to put on a brave face.

  Layla leaned forward, her fingertips reaching for and landing on Isabel’s hand. “Do you want to go? I won’t take it personally if you need to head home and take care of yourself,” Layla said, putting on a brave face herself.

  “No, really. I’m okay. Honestly, all I want is to for this date to continue, for my headache to go away and for me to read The Kite Runner. All at the same time. Is that too much to ask?” she said, raising her fist towards the ceiling and shaking it in mock anger.

  Layla smiled, thrilled to hear it was a date, but was uneasy knowing that Isabel wasn’t feeling well. Layla’s grandmother used to get migraines often, and she knew enough about them to know they didn’t just get better without intervention. Gears turning in her head, her problem-solving instincts kicked in.

  “I have an idea,” Layla said. “Do you think you can hang in there for 30 minutes or so?”

  Isabel hesitated. “I think so, yeah. What do you have in mind?”

  “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” she said as she hopped away from the table and walked quickly towards the back of the restaurant where the servers congregated. She spoke to the server in Arabic for a moment to assure him she wasn’t dining and dashing but just needed to grab something as she handed him a credit card, then walked quickly towards the exit.

  “Back in a few,” she said to Isabel as she walked out of the restaurant.

  ***

  Isabel was hoping she wasn’t just ditched for the night, as she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She couldn’t believe a migraine was hitting her now when she was having such a good time.

  “Excuse me, miss?” their server interrupted, forcing her to open her eyes and look up. He had lowered the blinds to block the sun from assaulting her, and he set a small glass with what looked like a shot of espresso in front of her on the table.

  “This is Turkish coffee, Layla ordered it for you. She said the caffeine would help with your headache.”

&nb
sp; He started clearing away the remaining plates and left her there, staring at the coffee that smelled amazing. She picked it up and took a slow sip, savoring the taste that was somehow familiar yet different. It was delicious, and she closed her eyes again, willing the headache away with each sip.

  Minutes later, Layla was back in the restaurant, somewhat breathless with a tote bag filled with who knows what, and most importantly, a bottle of migraine medicine in her hand.

  “I ran to the corner store a couple blocks down. Here you go,” Layla said as she handed the bottle to Isabel. Isabel could have kissed her at that moment. Wanted to. She cleared her throat.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Once she finished her coffee and washed down her medicine with water, she looked at Layla.

  “Doing okay?” Layla asked, worry painted all over her face.

  Isabel reached out and gave Layla’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yes, feeling a little better already and I know the meds will help. Thank you, that was above and beyond.” She gestured towards the tote bag. “What’s in there?”

  “That’s for our next stop,” Layla answered, giving nothing away.

  Their server came by with Layla’s credit card and the receipt, and after she finished paying, despite Isabel’s protests, they got up to leave. Layla thanked their server and quickly ran to the back of the restaurant where she said bye to Mariam with a hug and kiss to each cheek. Mariam waved to Isabel as Layla lead her out of the restaurant.

  Layla fished inside the tote bag and pulled out a large, atrocious pair of sunglasses, handing them to Isabel.

  “Put these on, to help with the light sensitivity until the meds kick in.”

  Isabel looked at Layla and the glasses skeptically. “Really? THIS pair?”

  Layla laughed, and Isabel loved the way it sounded. She wanted to make her do it again.

  “I’ll have you know they were some of the best that corner mart had to offer. Although if you don’t want them, I’m sure they’ll be a hit when I take them back to Portland. You know how those hipsters are.”