Bitter & Sweet by Amal Awad EPUB & PDF– eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Amal Awad
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Women’s Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
It was one of those uphill dreams: a road so steep, it was vertical. Zeina
was in the driver’s seat, in a little red car that did not belong to her. She
had to keep moving or she would lose momentum and fall. She tried to
accelerate, but the car jolted and spluttered, struggling to gain thrust.
When she awoke in fright, Zeina counselled herself not to be
superstitious about it. But hours later, as she stood in the flooded kitchen
of her father’s restaurant, the dream became a sign; an unnerving,
crushing confirmation that she had a momentous task ahead of her.
She could no longer deny that her father’s restaurant was falling apart
– and she was taking it very personally. Every crack in the painted walls,
every squeak of the floorboards, every minor issue that threatened to
become major signalled a gloriously expensive refurbishment. Efforts
that should have been made years ago, but Zeina’s father, Nasser, had
refused even to dispose of the broken neon sign above the front window.
By the end of its time, it had simply lit up as ‘Casa lanca’. They had long
ago stopped switching it on. It frustrated Zeina. Such an easy fix. But
whenever she had asked Nasser to repair it, he would ignore her, quick to
switch gears and talk about the nextdoor neighbour’s garbage bins sitting
too close to the entrance of the restaurant.
It was four thirty in the afternoon, and service was scheduled to begin
in an hour and a half. But instead of prepping, everyone’s attention was
on the flood. A torrent of water from a busted pipe, which Zeina and
Amir, Nasser’s only employed cook, had managed to stem. The damage
was clear: a small lake in the kitchen that meant every step was followed
by a gentle splash. Zeina hadn’t yet assessed the impact on the equipment
– as outdated as Casa lanca – but the containers and boxes of produce for
the next few days were not spoiled.
Amir switched up two large buckets, the overflow sloshing the water
back onto the tiles. He cussed profusely in Arabic as he stepped out of
the way, cursing the plumbing’s entire timeline. His movements were
more elegant than his appearance: stained singlet and jeans, and a
ponytail that kept his hair neat but couldn’t hide the frizz caused by the
damp.
‘Elena called a plumber,’ Zeina said. She was tense, her every
movement tight as she tried to flatten the anxiety charging through her
like wildfire.
There was an engagement tonight, for Lena, the younger sister of
Zeina’s best friend, Noor. Family friends since the first days of migration.
The food was ready – two generously loaded trays of mansaf – but Zeina
needed to deliver it before the party began.
‘I turned off the main,’ Amir said, wiping his forehead with his arm.
He looked spent as he scanned Zeina, bucket in hand. ‘You’re going to
ruin your dress.’
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