Power and Passion (21 page)

"O
h, look at all that
hair
!" Joan
exclaimed, reaching out to her laptop's screen, where an image of
her seven-month-old granddaughter bobbed up and down on her
mother's knee. "Erin, I can't believe how much it's grown."

From the other side of the world—California,
to be exact—Joan's daughter laughed and ran a hand through her own
daughter's light-blond curls. "I know; we've been saying the same
thing. One night she was a little fuzzy-head, and now she's gone
all Goldilocks on us."

Back in Dubai, seated in the dining room,
which got the most light in the morning, Joan rested her elbow on
the tabletop and her chin on her hand. She let out a peaceful sigh.
"She looks so much like you, too, when you were that age. You were
so sweet; other mothers would stop me in the grocery store just to
tell me how cute you were."

Joan reminisced in her mind for a moment,
back to that long-ago life she'd had when she'd been a stay-at-home
mom and completely satisfied with herself in that role. Not that
she shouldn't have been; just because what she did from day to day
was different now, she never begrudged any woman who wanted and was
able to make childrearing her fulltime job. Being a mother had
been—and still was—one of the most satisfying experiences she'd had
in her life. She was so pleased now to see how well it suited Erin
too. She'd never seen her daughter smiling so brightly in her
life.

"Mom," she said with a laugh, moving baby
Mackenzie to the other side of her lap. "Enough about my good
looks. What are you up to this week? Anything interesting going on
in the Middle Eastern nonprofit world?"

"Oh, always," Joan replied. "I know it might
not seem like it from so far away, but this sector is so
thriving
over here. Cancer awareness and research,
children's issues, women's causes, helping and uplifting those who
are in need… I know I've said it before, Erin, but even after so
many years, I'm still amazed by how rich and giving the nonprofit
community is here."

On the video, Erin was nodding as she gave
Mackenzie a stuffed animal to play with. The girl grabbed the plush
toy and shook it, a giddy smile on her face.

"I know, Mom, you have said it before." She
looked at her mother across the miles. The ever-present kindness in
her eyes, her concern for and interest in others—even people she
didn't know—made Erin's heart skip a beat. "And I'm so happy you
feel that way, that you're so fulfilled in what you do there. You
know how we all worried when you and Dad announced you'd be picking
up and moving to Dubai."

Joan smiled. "Oh, yes, I remember that
well." Both her children and other family members had protested the
very idea. She and David were too old, they had said, to start over
in a foreign land, especially one so wholly different from
California, where they had lived for so long. What if they didn't
like it? What if David's business opportunity there turned out to
be not as good as it seemed? What would Joan do with her time?
However, the two of them were determined to make things work and to
embrace the change.

"And it turned out all right, didn't it?"
she added in a soft voice, watching with pleasure as little
Mackenzie gurgled and cooed over her stuffed monkey. Once in a
while the girl's almond-shaped eyes would focus on the webcam, and
Joan got the feeling she was looking right at her. "Hey, have I
told you about this new project I'm helping out with?"

"No, Mom, I don't think so," Erin replied.
"What is it?" "Well, it's not for my own organization. In fact it's
a little bit outside my realm." She gazed at her granddaughter
again, at the delicate ringlets of her hair and the innate joy in
her smile. "Or maybe it's not. I got a call a while back from this
woman named Sara. She works for the Special Olympics here."

Erin gave her mother a sidelong glance.
"Hmm, you know how I feel about them."

Joan held out her hands, a sign of
surrender. "Yes, I know, dear. You think they encourage segregation
of people based on their abilities. And you know I understand that
point of view." She paused and adjusted her laptop screen as she
spoke, moving it out of a ray of sun that glared across the image
of her girls. "But I've learned so much in the last few weeks as
I've been working on this project with Sara and an Emirati woman
named Maryam. If you could just see how dedicated Sara is to this
cause and hear what she has to say—"

"Then I would, what, change my mind?" Erin
did not sound angry, and Joan knew that she was not. She was simply
standing up for what she believed—something Joan had always taught
her to do. "Does this Sara have a daughter with Down's syndrome?
Does she live with someone with a disability every day? Or are
these people just a job for her, something she can do for eight
hours a day then go home and not give them a second thought?"

The two women were quiet for a moment.
Perhaps Erin was just a bit mad, Joan thought, and she had every
right to be. Mackenzie was not even a year old, and already Erin
and her husband had had to jump through some enormous hoops, from
endless doctor appointments to arguments with state agencies to
finding just the right therapists to serve the child's needs.
Thankfully those needs were relatively few, but still it was a lot
of work. Joan understood her daughter's frustration.

"Sweetheart, I promise it isn't like that at
all," she went on, looking straight into the laptop's camera. "No,
Sara does not have any children, and if a member of her family is
disabled, she has not discussed them with me. But she's a young
woman with a very large heart. She believes—she has told me—that
she supports the Special Olympics because she sees it in a
different light. She doesn't see it as segregating but as
equalizing
. As giving people with disabilities the same
opportunities to compete in sports that other people have. If
anything it's a true celebration of diversity and a means to show
the general public that those with disabilities are not bad or
wrong."

Erin looked at her for a minute. Joan could
tell she was thinking.

"Well, when you put it that way," her
daughter said, the timbre of her voice softening a bit, "I guess I
can get behind that idea."

She smiled at her mom then, letting her know
this had been just another one of their usual lively debates.
"Anyway, what's the project?"

"Oh," Joan said, sitting up straighter in
her chair. "Well, Sara wants to hold a gala for SO. A fundraiser
but also to raise awareness of the organization and what it does.
I'm just sort of helping out with the logistics and planning since
I've had a bit of experience with things like this."

Erin nodded as she turned Mackenzie around
and held her against her shoulder. Must be almost naptime, Joan
thought; the baby was looking sleepy all of a sudden. "Well, with
you involved, I'm sure it will be a great success, Mom. Good luck
with it. And I mean that sincerely despite any
opinions
I
may have."

The two women laughed again and went on to
talk about other things—family and friends and life in general.
Before long Mackenzie was sound asleep on her mother's shoulder,
and Erin excused herself to go and lay her down in her crib. Before
they ended the video call, they made a date for a few days later,
when David would be home as well and they could all talk.

By the time they had finally disconnected,
Joan realized, it was almost time for her to head to her office,
where she'd arranged a meeting with Sara and Maryam to see how
things were going. Joan had been so busy with her own job that week
that she hadn't even checked in with Sara to see how her meeting at
the Grand Creek had gone. The gala, if it came to fruition, would
be only two months away. Now was the time to pull together and get
things done.

* * *

The two younger women were already seated in
the conference room when Joan arrived. Mina had made sure they had
refreshments then she sat with them and chatted for a while about
the gala and a new Hearts and Minds project that was about to
launch, and the nonprofits in India.

"Well, I see you've all met one another,"
Joan said with a smile as she strode into the room. This was her
place, the venue where she felt most at home. In this conference
room she had made agreements and signed contracts that—she always
hoped—would change people's lives. Not corporate boardroom accords
but partnerships with local health-care facilities and
public-relations firms, with those organizations that were able and
willing to take on work at a loss for the sole reason of making
individuals' lives better. How could she not love coming there?

"Yes, it's been so good finally to see Mina
in person," Sara replied with a glance and a smile over at Joan's
assistant. Mina smiled in return then got up from her seat.

"Well, I'll leave you all to your business.
Sara, Maryam." She nodded at each of them in turn. "I am sure we
will meet again."

As she left the room, Joan made herself
comfortable at the head of the long, dark-wood table—her usual
seat. She leaned against her high-back leather chair. "All right.
So how was the Grand Creek?"

Sara sat up a little straighter and cleared
her throat. "Oh, it was wonderful. What an amazing place, and the
staff is just wonderful. I met with Adam Rahim, the director of
events there, and he showed me around. They have many rooms to
choose from if we want to hold the gala there, and really I think
any one of them would work."

She paused and opened a folder that sat on
the table in front of her. She took out some brochures and papers
Adam had given her at the hotel and passed them to the other
women.

"And he was kind enough to draw up these
estimates of how much it would all cost. As you can see, he's being
quite kind with discounts and even some free services."

Joan picked up one of the papers and scanned
it then nodded her head. She looked at Sara and grinned. "You did
great. These estimates are perfect." She looked down the paper in
her hand once again. "Sara, which room do you think would be best?
If we were to go with the Grand Creek, of course."

"I think this ballroom would serve us well,"
she said, opening one of the brochures and showing the others some
pictures of a dimly lit, lavishly decorated hall. "It's large
enough to accommodate our tentative number of guests, with a
built-in stage, a dance floor, and anything else we might need. I
told Adam some rough numbers, and he agreed the ballroom would be
the best."

She paused and withdrew another page from
the folder, a glossy sheet full of photos of the Grand Creek's
function rooms. "See right over here? Adam said we could set
something here, in the pre-function room, as well, such as an
auction or an art show or whatever we decide. He's very
accommodating, really. He offered complementary valet parking and
technical-support staff and basically whatever we need for the
gala."

Joan and Maryam glanced at one another, both
of them trying to hide their smiles.

"Sounds like he made quite an impression on
you," Maryam said, sitting beside Sara and nudging her with an
elbow.

Immediately Sara began to blush. "Oh, uh,
well, yes, he was very helpful," she stammered as if Maryam's
comment had caught her off guard. "And very interested in the
Special Olympics. I told him all about the organization, and it
really caught his attention. After learning our reasons for holding
the gala, he really wanted to do whatever he could to help. I
appreciated his concern for the cause."

She looked at the other two, who peered at
her with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, and he was really good looking," she
added with a laugh. "You got me to admit it. Are you happy?"

A chorus of laughter filled the room, and
all three women sat back, enjoying the lighthearted moment. Maryam
in particular liked seeing Sara smile for once; in the weeks since
her relationship with Pierce had ended, she had seemed so serious
all the time.

"Then I imagine you'll be going back for
another tour?" Joan said with a bit of a twinkle in her eye.

Sara looked back at her and grinned.
"Already did," she said. "Adam invited me to go on the hop-on,
hop-off tour bus with him the day after I went to see the
hotel."

There was a silence in the room, an
anticipation as Joan and Maryam waited for her to go on.

"And?" Maryam finally asked when she could
not wait any longer.

"And I said yes," Sara replied. "And it was
lovely. I had a very nice time."

"Well, this is better progress than I had
expected to hear," Joan chimed in, feeling warmed by Sara's obvious
joy. "See? I told you the right man would come along."

"Oh, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Sara
replied, tidying up the papers that had become strewn across the
table. "He's not the right man. He's just a good man. A nice man.
One I spent a very pleasant Saturday afternoon with." She stopped
for a moment, looking down at the folder as she absently shoved the
papers into it. "And who I plan to see again this weekend," she
added in an almost inaudible mumble.

Again there was an uproar. Joan clapped her
hands, and Maryam laughed, looking at Sara in disbelief.

"And you weren't going to tell us this?"
Maryam asked. "You met this great guy, and you're going to keep him
a secret from us?"

Now Sara really blushed. "I'm sorry. I was
just afraid, I suppose."

"Afraid? Of what?" Joan asked. She'd thought
she and Sara had become good friends by then. Why on earth would
she be afraid to share such good news?

Sara looked at her, a sort of pleading in
her eyes. "Afraid that he won't be as good as he seems." She
glanced over at Maryam as well, looking for her advice and
reassurance. "He's so polite and well spoken. He's educated. And he
seems truly to care about people. He told me he went into hotel
management not for the money or the glamour of it, working in such
a posh locale. He did so because he wants to help people experience
the world and other cultures, and part of that is having a
comfortable, safe place to stay when they are away from home." She
smiled again. "Isn't that such a unique point of view?"