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brought her up.
    “Yes, my son, I do. She was a lovely girl. I understand she is back in town.”
    “Yes, Anne , she is.”
    “And you have seen her?” His mother always did read him like a book. He sighed and braced himself for the lecture. But she remained silent a while, sipping quietly. Levent decided to change the subject, hoping to deflect her.
    “I’m on the short list for a major hotel renovation. I’ll find out more end of this week, but I think we might just get it. Means I’m the general, not merely the sub-contractor you know.” His mother beamed at him a moment.
    “You and this girl,” his mother began. He groaned inwardly. “You are…connected somehow, I know this. She is a good girl. Her mother never paid any attention to her back then. When her parents divorced and she left, I missed her. Truly a delightful child.” His mother filled his tea glass. “Very headstrong, even then. But also very smart. She spent a lot of time in my kitchen, after….” She ducked her head.
    Levent let the silence spool out between them. He still nurtured resentment over having to leave. Might as well get her real feelings about it now that his father wasn’t around to inject his large personality into the conversation.
    “Ah, my son, we had to send you away. It was not suitable for you to be running the streets with a girl who was not far from being a woman.”
    “Mother, she was only eleven, good Lord.”
    “In our society….”
    He stood, unwilling to have this argument with her now. While his mother represented his touchstone and he loved her, wouldn’t do anything on purpose to upset her, anger suffused his brain and knew he should leave before devolving into argument. She pinned him with a stare. He slowly sank back into his seat.
    “I’m not finished,” she continued. “You will listen to me. You were nearly a man, and I knew how you felt about her. We couldn’t risk our position. We’d worked so hard, were saving money for you, for your future. The staff gossip had gotten loud, and it was only a matter of time before her father caught wind of it.” She patted his hand as he nervously fiddled with the delicate lace napkins that matched her marital tea set. “But it didn’t matter did it? Allah had other plans it seems.” She raised her eyebrows and finished the bitter tea.
    “So, if I said,” Levent started but his mother held up a hand, gnarled and red-skinned from years of working in someone else’s kitchen.
    “No, I don’t want to hear it. Not yet. My poor heart can’t accept that my son is in love.” She smiled at him. He leaned back in his chair. The late afternoon sun shone through the flawlessly clean windows of his parents’ small flat with its perfect views of the Bosporus. The call to prayer boomed into the air, sending birds scattering to the flat grey sky.
    “I don’t know about love, Mother.” He finished his own bitter brew.
    “I do.” She nodded and patted his hand again. “It’s in your eyes, my beloved son. It fairly oozes from your pores. And I am glad. I just ask…be careful. Don’t do anything sudden or….”
    Levent laughed at her loss for words. “I know, Mother. Nothing inappropriate. I promise. Besides, I still don’t know that she will have me. Not yet. I want to make more of myself before I do anything…rash.”
    His mother stood next to him and put her rough hand on his face. “My son, she is not your superior. I’m sorry your father ever said that to you. Don’t let that ruin your happiness.”
    A weight lifted from his heart. Maybe, very possibly, he could make this work. He straightened in his chair and let the possibilities run through his head, and smiled.
     
    ***
     
    Vivian lay in bed for several hours the following Sunday, drawing pictures of him, writing diary entries of memories as they crashed back in on her. She had her meals sent up, unwilling to face her father or any of his annoying new family. It would ruin the pure happiness