Been keeping up with the weather back in the US and noticed there was a crazy storm in the North. You OK? I can't seem to reach either of your grandparents. Call me when you can, sweetheart.

Talia didn't hesitate calling her worried father the next morning, needing a little taste of home. After two rings, he picked up, and a commotion met her ears before the sound of his voice did. She could only imagine what kind of family gathering Calvin had been roped into for the umpteenth time, preparing herself for a barrage of texts later in the day.

"Oh, thank God, you called," he breathed. "I was getting worried, Talia. Anything up with your grandparents?"

Oh, so he definitely doesn't know. She cleared her throat and hopped up onto the kitchen island, preparing herself for a long conversation. "Well, the thing is...they're at a funeral right now, so the circumstances could be better to start with, with the whole massive rainstorm that barreled through this town and all. The power's been out since last night, and last I checked, the downstairs floor is a solid fifty-nine degrees and only getting colder." She flickered her eyes to the glass back door, and they turned to saucers. "Oh, and there may or may not be a giant tree branch lying smack-dab in the middle of the deck."

"Wait, what?" She expected the stunned reaction, but he focused on her first point. "Do you know who passed away?" She steeled herself and explained a little more, hoping he didn't know him that well. He paused for a moment before speaking, "Oh, I have a few memories of him from when I was a child, but Tony was your grandfather's friend. But he wasn't that old, Talia... I can't even imagine how his wife feels right now."

She attempted to steer the conversation away from death, her heart still aching for Zaid. "I'm sure Teta and Grandpa will answer you when they can. I last heard from them yesterday evening, for what it's worth."

"So, are you all by yourself now? In the cold?"

"No," she said, pausing before throwing in an unnecessary question. "You remember who Zaid is, right?"

"Oh, for sure, yes," he mumbled. She tried to read into his tone, not having his face to go by. He relieved her wary mind when he continued, "At least you could be stuck with someone worse. The kid has a good head on his shoulders from what I've heard."

And a gorgeous face, nice body, and semi-tolerable personality, but I digress.

"Well, that's one way to put it," she said, maintaining a steady tone. "I'm going to assume everything you've heard is from Teta, right?"

He cleared his throat. "She hasn't told me much, but from what I've gathered, there's a matchmaker deep inside of her itching to get to work." Oh shit. "But don't worry. I think I know enough about you to be certain you'll be the first in the family to end the Arab bloodline, and that's okay. As long as you're happy, Talia."

Well, boy do I have a story for you.

"Wait, wasn't Uncle Marcus the first?"

"Well, if he and Meredith have any children, then I suppose, yes," he mumbled. "But I think I know my brother well enough not to go that far. Anyway, I'll leave your grandmother to bother you about that Zaid boy; I'm sure her nosiness will suffice."

"I don't think she's too concerned," she lied through her teeth, glad he couldn't see her reddening cheeks. "Zaid and I haven't spent all that much time together."

"Interesting," he mused. "I guess my mother was being too optimistic."

She changed the subject yet again, knowing she'd start contradicting herself if they kept going down that path. "Do you know if Mama is around? I want—I mean, I haven't spoken to her since I left, so that's why I'm asking."

He didn't respond at first, helping her make out the sound of overlapping voices in the background, some more familiar than others. "She's somewhere in this house with one of your aunts, but there are so many people here at the moment, I don't know for sure. I can tell her you're on the phone if you'd like to talk to her."

"Wait, no—" She stopped herself, unsure how to articulate how she felt. "I mean, if she's busy, there's no reason to bother her with stuff I can already tell you. I just thought..."

"What's wrong, Talia?"

She dragged a hand through her hair and stared down at the swirls in the marble countertop, feeling herself grow oddly emotional. "I just can't help but feel like she's mad at me. It's not a crime for me to have stayed behind—well, technically, stayed behind on the other side of the country, but the point still stands."

"Look, honey," he sighed. She heard a door slide shut behind him and the familiar blare of car horns echoing through the streets. "Deep down, your mother knows why you don't enjoy traveling overseas with us anymore, but she's a proud woman—and not always in a good way. Truth to be told, it's going to take a lot for her to admit her own family is partly at fault, and that you have every reason to distance yourself as a mature adult."

She nodded to herself, happy at least one parent understood her. "I just wish she understood that me not wanting to associate with her family doesn't mean I hate her."

"I know. But give it some time, trust me."

She'd already given it half her lifetime, but she supposed she had it in her to wait a little more. "I guess you're right. Tell Calvin I say hi when we hang up."

"Of course," he chuckled. "Is there anything else you want to tell me, Talia?"

She didn't hesitate. "I miss you."

"I miss you even more," he murmured. "Take care of yourself for me. I'll see you soon."

In a rare turn of events, Zaid had been eavesdropping on her conversation. Talia found him on the opposite side of the kitchen, his head resting on the doorway. With a small sigh, he sauntered across the kitchen and stopped just in front of her dangling legs. Taking a few seconds to survey her face, his own bearing two bloodshot eyes, he rested one hand on either side of her thighs and leaned forward.

"You look upset."

"I'm not." The lie came as quickly out of her lips as her heart out of her chest, reacting to their sudden proximity. "I'm just tired."

"Funny, since you're such a heavy sleeper." He smiled through his words, prompting her to raise a confused brow. "Literally. You spent half the night draped over my chest like it was your second mattress, leaving me with half my normal lung function."

"Oh, aren't you romantic," Talia sneered, lifting her arms to cross them over her chest.

"And I'd let you do it again...because today might be even worse than yesterday."

***

If bad luck was nothing more than just that, then Talia and Zaid were living the through the longest spell of pure happenstance.

It had taken a brisk two-minute walk to comprehend just how trapped she and Zaid—and the rest of their neighbors—were. In the fierce wind of the night, the trunk of a sprawling tree had cracked in half and collapsed horizontally across the one road out of this small neighborhood. Her inner environmentalist mourned the loss of nature as she stared at the dead branches before her, until the hedonistic twenty-first-century counterpart remembered this inconvenience meant even more time without heat, lights, and Wi-Fi.

"How much you wanna bet it'd be warmer to sleep outside than inside tonight? I'm not banking on someone getting rid of this tree in the next few hours."

Zaid dug his hands into the pockets of his vest as they trudged up the road back home, appearing just as miffed. He muttered something to himself and stopped in his tracks just a foot shy of the mailbox. "Look, Talia. When I said I could handle anything that happened while Fouad and Salma were gone, this wasn't exactly my definition of...anything. I only hope someone remembers a bunch of entitled boomers live here and demands the town get moving on this mess."

She arched a brow, surprised at his brusque tone. "Is that how you really feel about my grandparents?"

He snapped his head up, lips parting. "Oh, no, Talia, I—"

"Kidding, kidding. I'm just surprised this is the first time you've cut the invincibility act. And you know what?" She jokingly nudged his side with her elbow. "Humility is a good look on you, Zaid."

"No," he said, narrowing his eyes. Okay, then. "This is the first time I'll admit I'm as Middle Eastern as you are when it comes to the cold. God, the things I wouldn't do for a dry, hot summer day back home right now."

Dragging their feet, they continued to the backyard where Mother Nature had been equally unforgiving. The wiry sticks and dead leaves littering the soggy grass were easier to tune out than the tree branch lying in the middle of the deck, having fallen just shy of the table in the center. She followed Zaid's gaze and ended up staring at their neighbor's property—no, their neighbor.

"Well, that definitely isn't a senior citizen," he chuckled, catching sight of the chunky baby girl in her mother's arms.

The curly-headed woman paced half the length of the short driveway with her phone pressed to her ear, voice inaudible from where they stood. When she pulled a pink pom-pom hat over the baby's head mid-call, the little one let out a shrill scream that lasted as long as the mom could yank the piece of cloth away.

Zaid smirked and turned to her. "Look, it's a baby you, Talia."

"Ha, very funny, Zaid," she shot back, wrinkling her nose. As she conjured up an insult, a gruff male voice made her head snap up.

"Hey, how's your grandfather doing? I haven't seen him in a bit!"

"Oh, he's great, yeah!" Talia called back. She had no clue who this man was, but he had to have at least been an acquaintance. She walked to the other side of the deck, hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, I don't think I've seen you around before, sir."

"No worries, I'm Rob, been your grandparents' neighbor for over ten years." He gestured to the woman and baby next to him. "This is my daughter, Rachel, and granddaughter, Lily."

She greeted the woman and sent a small wave to her daughter, now burying her head in her mother's thick coat. Gesturing to Zaid, Talia turned to Rob again. "This is Zaid, by the way. He's related to a friend of my grandfather's."

They exchanged a few hellos and began a brief conversation, while Talia turned her attention to the mother-daughter duo, who looked a lot more similar this close, save for the looser curls on the baby's head.

"Can I just say you have the cutest baby I've ever seen." She clutched her chest as two chocolate-brown eyes met her own, framed by lashes almost as long as Zaid's. "How old is she?"

"Oh, thank you," Rachel gushed, patting the back of her daughter's head. "Lily is eight months old and quite the handful, but the adorableness makes up for it. You know, when it's not three in the morning, that is."

The wild hair and heavy bags encircling her eyes screamed overworked mother, and suddenly all of Talia's baby fever washed away.

"Oh, I can imagine," she laughed, despite having zero experience with infants—or whatever eight-month-olds were. "Hopefully, this power outage hasn't been too bad for you guys so far."

"You know what, thank God we have a generator, but I was so stressed out all last night, since I couldn't reach my husband. He's back home in Connecticut right now with our other daughter. Apparently, if we think we have it bad here, the storm hit even worse down there, but my dad just got a hold of him a few—" She cut herself off when she realized she was rambling and adjusted her wiggling daughter. "Here, do you want to hold Lily? She loves new faces."

"Me?"

Talia looked from side to side, as if the woman meant anyone else, before extending two cautious arms. When Rachel transferred the small human into her hold, Talia stiffened, warily eyeing her contorting face.

Please don't cry, please don't cry, please don't cry. To her utter relief, the girl sent her a gummy, chubby-cheeked smile, lighting up her huge brown eyes. She just about melted into one of the many rain puddles on this driveway as she held her closer to her chest.

"Zaid, get over here and look at this angelic face," she hissed.

He whirled around from a few feet away, and the smile on his lips grew with each step towards them. Talia bounced the girl a bit in her arms, a protective hand hovering behind her head, and turned her towards him.

"Mashallah," he beamed. When Rachel raised a confused brow at the foreign phrase, he cleared his throat. "I mean, she's beautiful." He extended a couple fingers towards her curled fist and gave her the smallest of handshakes, which earned a bellowing laugh from Rob a few feet behind them.

After a few moments, Lily grew restless, so Talia handed her back to her mother. It took one adjustment of her puffy white coat for her to scream all over again, convincing Talia this girl simply hated winter clothing.

Maybe she really was a tiny her, after all.

"You know, I've always pictured my first-born child being a girl," Zaid remarked as they stepped onto their deck again. "For whatever reason, it just makes sense."

Talia practically had to pick up her jaw from the ground. "You're kidding, right?"

He bristled. "Uh, not exactly?"

"No, I didn't mean it that way." She muttered an apology and released a small sigh. "It's just, my grandmother practically shunned my mother when she found out her first grandchild wasn't going to be a boy. Even when five male cousins came after me on that side of the family, she was still unhappy until my brother, Calvin, was born. Boys just are the de facto gender in our culture."

"Maybe in your interpretation of our culture, but not mine," he said, furrowing his brow. "My grandparents only had my mother, and she was worth ten sons to them growing up. Heck, the same still applies for my sister as well—although, objectively, I am still the favorite child. Not gender-related, though."

It wouldn't have been Zaid talking if he didn't toot his own horn somehow. Talia fought an annoyed smile and stopped in front of the back door of the house, folding her arms over her black coat.

"Maybe I'm wrong to generalize, but I guess I learned later on I wasn't the favorite grandchild for many reasons..." With a small huff, she added, "Well, anyway, at least I have no pressure to have a son of my own."

"Why? Did the family standard change?"

"Apart from not being the one who's going to carry the family name, my dad really doesn't care if he doesn't have a grandchild named after him. I mean, I'm sure he'd appreciate a little him, but my family isn't all that...traditional, if you couldn't tell."

"Maybe we finally have something in common," he said, but his smile soon faded.