A Missing Peace Read Online Free PDF Page B

once or twice, but I was not looking for Caleb.
    I got up Sunday morning and cooked our meals for the week. Ommy had been working night shifts at the hospital since we moved here. She needed all the help she could get, and Abrahem was working a lot these days, too. That left me.
    Of course, they asked me to come to the service when they left around noon, but I opted out. I enjoyed cooking. The smell of the food reminded me of home. At home, I would have never been in the kitchen cooking, but I liked that I could get lost in this. Not think about how badly things sucked here and just do something for a change.
    I went to service at five that night alone, because both my mother and Abrahem were at work. I wore a pastel pink sweater tank, because it matched my favorite mantilla, which I tightened securely with pins. The tank top fit me well, almost too well. I wouldn’t usually wear it, because it made me uncomfortable, but it was the only thing that matched.
    Walking home, I saw Caleb in his front yard. He jogged into the street and met me, studying me from head to toe. I had noticed him doing this before, and it never bothered me, but today it made me self-conscious. Then he focused on the pink lace covering my hair. His eyes never moved away from it, even when he said, “I ate your burrito, so I figure I owed you a meal.”
    I shrugged. “Not necessary.”
    â€œI’m bored and hungry. Eat with me.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh. “To work on government, right?” Because if I got caught eating alone with a guy at night while my family wasn’t home, Abrahem would think I was dating, and I’d never see daylight again.
    Caleb shrugged. “Sure. Let me get my mom’s car.”
    I veered my gaze to the road. “I’m not allowed in cars with boys.” At home this was a normal thing to say. I wouldn’t even have to say it. No decent boy would ever try to get me alone with him in his car to begin with. But here, it was ridiculous. Especially since there was no chance Caleb and I were dating.
    â€œOkay, we’ll walk.”
    Every few seconds his eyes flickered to the pink cloth on my head. I couldn’t decide between waiting it out to see what he came up on his own and just telling him.
    At Pizza Hut, he pulled out my chair. “Thank you,” I said confused.
    â€œIt’s a Southern thing.” He smiled. “What do you want? Cheese? Veg? Hamburger?”
    â€œPepperoni.” I really loved pizza. It was one of the few things that was close to the same here. We had Pizza Hut in Iraq. Or at least we did before the war. I hadn’t been home in two years. I couldn’t say now.
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œM, I’m not trying to be a jerk, but what’s the thing on your head? I’ve never seen you wear one before.”
    Blood rushed under my cheeks again like it did the first time he’d called me “M”. I’d never had a nickname before and didn’t even know that I wanted one. Usually, it annoyed me when people shortened my name, like it was too much work to say Mirriam. But when Caleb called me “M” it was nice, like a secret only for the two of us. Still, I laughed at his question.
    â€œI only wear it when I go to service and for like weddings and funerals.”
    â€œI thought ya’ll go to church on Fridays.”
    Why would I go to church on Fridays? I was completely confused. Then I realized he thought I was Muslim and burst out laughing. “Caleb, I’m not Muslim.”
    â€œYou’re not?”
    I shook my head.
    â€œThen why are you so hung up on Iraq?”
    The question about the mantilla didn’t bother me, but this irked me. “It’s my home. And Muslims are not the only people who live there.”
    â€œSo you’re Christian?”
    I nodded.
    â€œBut Christian girls don’t wear the scarf thing.”
    â€œI’m