173 - Carolina Alcântara Al-Makki

Carolina Alcântara Al-Makki

I take a deep breath before entering my father-in-law Salim's room. It saddened me to see how old age was taking a toll on his health. My husbands were also sad, witnessing how the man who encouraged them to become brothers rather than rivals in our triad was now suffering. He had taught them, through his own experiences, how to handle conflicts. My father-in-law was the reason Bruno and Hassan became like brothers, ensuring they stayed united and prioritized my needs.

We knew that when Salim was finally discharged from the hospital, it was only so he could pass away surrounded by family and loved ones. As I enter the room, I see the nurses near his bedside. When they see me, they step back and bow.

I approach the bed and lower the rail, so I can be closer to the sheikh and my father-in-law, whom I have been caring for as if he were the father I never had.

“Good morning, babi!” His eyes open, and he stops passing the masbaha through his fingers.

“Good morning, bint!” His usual smile appears on his lips. “I'm glad you came first; I want to talk to you.”

He says, and I nod, smiling at my father-in-law, who, despite being ill, remains quite lucid!

Salim had already stopped managing the palace and the people's affairs. Everyone in Sudan was just waiting for the announcement of the sheikh's passing, but as far as the family was concerned, we would do our best to keep him comfortable and ensure he did not suffer at any moment. I sat beside him, holding his hand, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.

“I want my grandson here; it’s time for him to take his place.” I take a deep breath. If it were up to me and Bruno, my son Mahjub would have been home long ago and not in Italy with Zara and Pietra, who clings to them like a tick. This makes me laugh because I appreciate her friendship with the Lancelloti heir for many reasons.

“I'll try to talk to Hassan. I don’t know what else to say to him; the man remains inflexible…” Salim raises his hand to silence me.

“I love my son, but for these four years, he has only served to fill the void left by Mahjub.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle a laugh. “Behave yourself.”

I nod and try to focus on what my father-in-law is saying to me.

“His birthday is coming up, and I want to see him before I go. I’m close to that happening, and I want him here, by my side!” I nod, confirming my father-in-law’s request. “I want everyone here. I’m ready to meet Najla and Ebrahim.”

I look at my father-in-law and see a smile spreading on his face. I know how much he misses my mother-in-law, who passed away a few years ago.

“I'll do my best, even if I have to give Hassan a good beating!” I say to my father-in-law, who seems to accept what I say.

But I know that all this confusion in my son's life is almost coming to an end, especially if Laís is indeed doing something, as I am almost certain she is. Soon, Mahjub and Hope will be walking through those doors, and we’ll have a beautiful wedding.

It’s just a matter of time. I know I made mistakes in raising Mahjub; I should have made it easier and insisted they meet from childhood, as Laís is doing with my grandchildren, Leon and Fay. I let the influence of religion speak louder than my desire to see my son happy.

Bruno was right, and the move he made during the meeting with Mattia was what kept our son focused. To my pride, he performed even better than Bruno had imagined at that moment. 

But what has been giving me headaches in recent years is Hassan, who is suffering from missing the son he loves and even Laís, who has taken her brother’s side. My second husband doesn’t want to admit how much he misses them. He firmly believes that he is correcting our boy this way, but the truth is, he is only breaking both their hearts.

Bruno never stopped being a father when our son made that mistake. He corrected him and supported the decision to send him away to learn how to manage all our businesses. He was already managing the Switzerland branch here in the Middle East, the Smoke subsidiary here in Sudan, and was learning to govern the country with Salim, which would be his true occupation.

I smile at my father-in-law, who is starting to look tired. I approach, kiss his forehead, and let him rest. I look at the monitors and see that his parameters are starting to drop. I know what is approaching; my years in nursing have taught me to recognize when death is near.

With my eyes fixed on my father-in-law, I make the decision I should have made a long time ago: 

It’s time for my son to come home.

I get up from the edge of the bed and lock the rail. Before leaving the room, I looked once more at the man who welcomed me into his family, even though I was a dangerous woman at the time, and showed me the beauty of his religion. I leave him with the nursing staff, knowing that soon Raja will be there to keep him company, and shortly after, Bruno will join them to watch football, my father-in-law’s great passion.

I walk toward the table where everyone is supposed to have breakfast together. I smile when I see my two husbands sitting at the table, each lost in their thoughts, which worries me. The whole family is concerned about Salim’s condition, and I’m sure that in a few days, we will all be facing the pain and loss of mourning.

We have endured many losses in recent years my mother and mother-in-law Ivone, and the Greek couple Marius and Maitê who adopted me as their daughter and loved my children as their own grandchildren. I sit on the left side of Hassan, who is at the head of the table, and across from Bruno, who smiles from the other side.

“How is babi, my star?” Hassan asks, and I see everyone looking at me.

“He’s tired and asking for our son’s return,” I say, serving myself some tea.

I watch as Bruno lowers his tablet and turns toward Hassan, who folds his newspaper in half and waits for what Bruno has to say.

“Let’s have breakfast, and then you can choose whatever you want,” Hassan says, looking at Bruno, and I see Raja start to laugh.

“I’ve told you before, Carol, they are the real couple, and you’re just the third wheel…” I start to laugh and choke on a date.

“I’m glad you two have found some joy,” my lovely husband says, holding my hand. “I love you, my star,” Hassan says.

“I know you do, Tajdid, but I want our boy home. It’s time to show him that we love him and let him spend some time with his grandfather!” I say, holding his gaze.

“It’s time, brother. Let’s take advantage of our boy’s upcoming birthday and bring him back home. I miss having him here!” Bruno says.

I watch my sister-in-law Raja nod in agreement with our request to Hassan. I see him take Bruno’s hand and extend the other to me.

“Let’s go get that boy. Organize everything, and we’ll go meet them!” I take a deep breath, letting all the weight of anxiety leave me.