Fever (26 page)

Police and military personnel surrounded the area. Sara pushed her way through the crowd to get closer. She couldn’t understand why an event like this would necessitate such a heavy law-enforcement presence. The front steps of the hospital served as the dais for the ceremonies and were lined with people dressed in hospital and military uniforms. A tall, distinguished soldier was speaking to the crowd, but Sara was too far away to hear what he was saying.

“Who is that?” she asked a woman standing beside her.

“That is President Kibaki. He is a great man.”

Sara worked her way around the perimeter of the gathering until she could hear Kibaki as he made the final dedication. “It is with great pride that I dedicate this unit to a man of foreign descent who did so much for the youth of Kenya. He was a humanitarian and a powerful healer. That his life was cut short is a great disservice to us all. Dr. Franklin Chambers.”

Sara stumbled off the raised curb on which she was standing. Dr. Franklin Chambers? Was it possible that this man and Zak were related? She knew Zak’s father had been a doctor and spent the summers working in Africa. This was too similar to be a coincidence. She scanned the crowd as it started to thin.

President Kibaki walked down the hospital steps and shook hands with several people inside the police barricades. He worked his way along the line in Sara’s direction and stopped in front of two women, one very tall and dark-haired. Zak. She’d know that statuesque frame anywhere—the set of her shoulders and the tilt of her head. Kibaki spent several minutes with Zak and the woman Sara had seen her with earlier.

When the president left the area, Sara started toward Zak. She wanted to acknowledge the honor bestowed on her father. But before she could work her way through the milling groups of people, Titus Wachira approached Zak’s companion. Zak stepped protectively between them but Wachira reached out to the woman. In a blink, Wachira was on the ground and Zak stood over him, her arm cocked for another punch. The commander’s detail scrambled, but Zak landed two more blows before they could stop her.

Sara elbowed her way past people, apologizing as she ran, her eyes riveted on the scene in front of her. Zak disappeared in a sea of blue uniforms, hands and feet flailing her as she fell. “Stop,” she yelled. “Let her go.” But the beating continued. Wachira rose slowly, put his hat back on, and ordered his men to stand down. They complied, pulling Zak from the ground as they stood. Sara was now close enough to hear but still not close enough to reach out or intervene. The commander approached Zak’s friend again, took her hand, and kissed it. He turned to his men. “Let her go. This is a sad day for us all.”

The officers holding Zak shoved her roughly away and followed Wachira. Her friend ran to Zak, her eyes conducting a visual examination for injuries. Then she grabbed Zak, hugged her, and lovingly kissed the red splotches on her face and knuckles. Sara turned from the tender scene and hailed a taxi back to the hotel. It was probably just as well. She couldn’t handle Zak’s angry, violent tendencies or seeing her with another woman.

*

Zak spent the rest of the afternoon alternating ice and heat on the areas of her body destined to swell and bruise. When she stepped from her preparatory dinner shower, her mother was standing in the bathroom staring at her. “Let me see you.”

“Mother.”

“Oh, Zakaria, really, I need to make sure they haven’t hurt you any further.” She remained obediently still while her mother examined her. “You’ll have a few nasty bruises, but otherwise, you’re perfect.” Once satisfied, she stepped back and handed her a towel. “You should spend some time in France. You’re way too uptight for a young woman. Nudity is a thing of beauty, especially feminine nudity.”

“Not with your mother.” Zak wrapped the towel around her and fluffed her hair to deflect some of the discomfort.

“I’ll be in the other room when you’ve recovered your composure and your clothing.”

Zak slid into the black tuxedo slacks, long-sleeved pale lavender shirt, and black sequined vest her mother had purchased for her dinner attire. The ensemble molded to her body like it was tailor-made. Her mother’s taste was impeccable and her visual ability to gauge Zak’s size had been a source of amazement since childhood. She stepped into the classic black flats, gave her hair one final finger raking, and joined her mother in the sitting area.

“Gorgeous, cheri, simply gorgeous.” Estelle patted the sofa cushion beside her. “Join me for a cocktail. I’ve ordered that terribly sweet Riesling you like so well.” She handed Zak a glass and raised her Manhattan in a toast. “To beautiful women.”

“Hear, hear.” Zak sipped her wine and regarded the woman beside her. Estelle wore a wrap resembling a traditional shuka, but the colors were the blues and greens that flattered her complexion and it was customized to hug her slender body. She sported red open-toed stiletto heels that added at least two inches to her height. She was certainly a beautiful woman, and Zak was proud to call her “Mother.”

“Did you read those reports yet?”

“No, I’ve been a little busy.”

“You might have avoided this unpleasant business if you had.” Estelle finished her Manhattan with an uncustomary gulp that Zak recognized as nerves.

“What unpleasant business is that, Mother? The part where Titus Wachira had the crap beaten out of me or the part where you actually let him kiss your hand? Please clarify.”

Estelle rose from her seat and moved toward the door. “Let’s go to dinner. This discussion is pointless. I’d like to enjoy my final meal in civility. We have reservations at the Thai Chi here in the hotel. I don’t have time to go out before my plane leaves.”

Zak met her mother at the door and snuggled against her chest like a child. “I’m sorry. I don’t want our day to end badly. Seeing him touch you infuriated me. After what he did to my father, he has no right to even speak to you. He just makes me crazy.”

Estelle stroked her hair, then kissed her cheek as she pulled the door closed behind them. “I know, my darling. I know. Forget him for a while and let’s have a nice dinner.”

They had been sitting in the restaurant long enough to order their second cocktail when Sara walked in. Zak spotted her immediately and couldn’t look away. The knee-length sheath dress had fringed lace over the bodice that cupped and accentuated Sara’s generous breasts. Her creamy shoulders were bisected by tiny spaghetti straps that Zak imagined would snap with the slightest tug. The sheer fabric gently draped across her midriff and gave it a gloved fit. The color, emerald green, was the perfect choice to emphasize her auburn hair that was twisted into a fashionable knot high on her head.

“Cheri, did you hear me?”

Zak took a quick drink of wine and forced herself to look at her mother. “Sorry?”

“I said, why don’t you ask the young lady to join us? I’d love to meet her.”

She struggled for an answer that would both appease Estelle and get her out of inviting Sara to dinner. Failing, she rose and motioned Sara to their table. “Would you like to join us?”
Please say no. I don’t think I can sit here and look at you without touching you
.

Sara’s eyes roamed over Zak and sparked with heat. Then she turned to Estelle and the fire cooled to a simmer. “I don’t want to intrude.” She turned toward another table.

Zak started to sit back down, but her mother nodded vigorously in Sara’s direction. She placed her hand on Sara’s arm and stopped her. “Excuse my manners. Sara, I’d like to introduce Estelle Chambers, my mother. Estelle, this is Sara Ambrosini.”

Sara’s jaw went momentarily slack, then a huge smile emerged. “Your mother?”

The two women shook hands as Zak pulled out the chair beside her. “Won’t you join us for dinner, please? You look amazing, by the way.”

As Sara sat, she slid her hand over Zak’s where it rested on the back of the chair. “If you’re sure it’s okay and I won’t be interrupting a long-awaited mother-daughter reunion.”

Estelle answered, “It is and you aren’t. Cheri, I love your dress. Eyelash lace is so chic and feminine. And the cut and flow of that piece suits your figure exquisitely.”

Zak moaned and took another sip of wine. “Good grief.”

Sara and Estelle looked at her simultaneously, then back at each other, and broke into a laugh that sounded like they’d been friends for years. The next three hours passed with Estelle recounting stories of her painting, her travels, and of meeting Sara’s parents. Zak listened to their friendly exchanges to distract herself from the nearness of Sara and the realization that their time together was disappearing too quickly. She had her favorite women beside her and she didn’t want to give either of them up. The thought disturbed her.

When Estelle folded her napkin and placed it delicately beside her plate, Zak rose and pulled out her chair. She did the same for Sara, and they exchanged prolonged hugs and whispered good-byes. It was a somber parting, as if they were all unsure when or if they’d meet again.

“I’ll drive you to the airport, Mother.” Zak started to make her apologies to Sara.

“You’ll do no such thing. I already have a cab waiting and my bags are loaded. Stay and entertain your guest.”

Sara gave Estelle a parting kiss on both cheeks and said to Zak, “Walk your mother to her car. I’ll wait for you in the lounge.”

As they strolled through the lobby arm in arm, Zak was comforted by her mother’s presence and the calm perspective she brought to her life. She missed the consistent influence of Estelle’s wisdom and wondered if her job had totally erased the values her parents instilled in her.

“Take care of yourself, cheri. And hold on to that one.” She nodded back toward the restaurant. “She’s a keeper.” Estelle gave her one final hug and got into the cab. Before Zak closed the door she added, “And for God’s sake, read those reports. I love you.”

When Zak walked into the Exchange Bar, Sara was at a corner table in the back with a drink and a glass of wine in front of her. “I took the liberty of ordering you another Riesling. I hope that’s okay.”

Zak smiled and sat down next to her, missing her mother but glad to finally be alone with Sara. “I probably shouldn’t,” she said before taking a hefty sip.

“Estelle says it makes you horny.”

Wine shot up Zak’s nose as she grabbed a napkin and tried to keep it from flying out in all directions. “She said what?” Sara was obviously enjoying her discomfort. To emphasize the point, she rubbed her bare foot down Zak’s thigh and up under her pants leg.

“She said Riesling mellows you out and puts you in a loving mood. I’m all for that.”

Zak took a smaller sip while searching for a safer topic of conversation. “Did you know that the Nairobi Stock Exchange started in this place in 1954 and operated here for thirty-seven years? You can’t beat the nineteenth-century décor for ambience. This is still considered the premier networking location in the city.”

Sara’s foot continued its distracting work on her leg. “Fascinating. Anything else I just can’t live without?”

Pressure was building in Zak’s crotch and the dampness had already soiled her new tuxedo pants. “Over there,” she pointed to the opposite side of the bar, “is the Wall of Fame. There are photos of the chairmen of the current top twenty companies on the Nairobi Stock Exchange.”

Sara finished her vodka tonic and stood. “Are you planning to drink that?” She motioned toward Zak’s wine.

“No.”

“Then come with me.” She offered her hand and Zak took it.

“Where are we going?”

She looped her arm through Zak’s and brought their bodies closer together. Stretching up on tiptoes, she whispered in her ear, “To my room.”

Sara closed her room door behind them, leaving the lights off, and led Zak to the small sofa adjacent to the balcony. She opened the door, allowing the cool breeze and street noises to rush in, then sat beside her. Touching the side of Zak’s face, she examined the darker patches that had formed on her jaw and cheek. “Do these hurt?” The memory of the officers kicking and hitting Zak as she lay on the ground tugged at Sara’s heart.

“Not really. I just had a—”

“I was at the hospital for the dedication.” Zak surveyed the room, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. He touched my mother. He had no right.”

“You’re a complicated woman, Zakaria Chambers, and I want so much to understand you. But I’m having a hard time reconciling your secrecy and temper with the kindness I see. It just doesn’t fit. Have you always been so reclusive and hot-headed or have circumstances changed you?” Zak picked at the cuff of her shirt but offered no immediate response. “Please, Zak, talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Her blue-gray eyes were pleading orbs of pain and confusion. “I can’t give you whatever it is you want.”

“You don’t even know what that is. How do you know you can’t give it to me?” Sara knew she was pushing, but her time with Zak was limited and her desire to be closer wasn’t.

“Then why don’t you tell me and I’ll be more specific about my deficiencies.”

Sara took Zak’s hand and held it between hers, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I want you to tell me something about yourself. I don’t need your entire life story, yet.”

“I’m just not very good at small talk.”