Triumph {The Manhattan Trilogy #3}

Trip (M)

"My dad's come a long way since the beginning of this year," Ryan declares simply as she sits down next to me on our morning flight from Albany to San Francisco.

"I have to agree with you," I answer her. "To be honest with you, I thought that I would be banned from dating you. I was really upset and nervous at first. I felt like a modern-day Romeo!"

"I felt like Juliet," Ryan rolls her eyes at the overused Shakespeare reference. "Anyway, I couldn't be happier that my friend Julia decided to step in and help my family change their views. They're still moderate conservatives, but at least the vile hatred of people they don't agree with is out of the way."

I nod. "A couple less people in America hating me because of my ethnicity and religion is great when I've been called a terrorist at least once a month since moving here."

Ryan's gaze softens in sympathy. "Oh, Mohammed, babe, I'm sorry to hear that. People naturally love to make generalizations, but so many of them can be hurtful."

I smile at her. "You're right, but I choose to try and ignore these people and instead focus on the people that being me joy. You know you're one of those people, of course."

"Aww," she coos, resting her head on my shoulder.

A few hours later, our plane touches down on the runway in San Francisco, California. Ryan hasn't been here since she was six years old, but she says that that 1999 vacation was the best of her life.

My goal this week is to recreate that and bring my girlfriend on the best date ever.

"Ryan," I whisper gently, shaking her awake from her nap. She cracks one of her eyes open and stares at me sleepily. I smile and pinch her cheek lightly.

"What is it, babe?" She smiles at me.

"We're here in California," I inform her, and she sits right up, immediately fully awake.

"Finally!" Ryan exclaims quietly, staring out the window at the palm trees that surround the airport. "Oh, I've been waiting way too long to come back to San Francisco!"

"Well, now you're back," I squeeze her gently. "You don't have to wait anymore."

"I'm so happy," she sighs. "And I'm happy that I get to do all of this with you."

"I feel the same way," I murmur into her hair as I hug her. "Come on, let's go. The aisle just freed up in front of us."

Ryan nods. "Yeah. Let's take our first few steps into California..."

That evening, I take Ryan out on a date to the Cliff House, a lovely restaurant overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Her dad told me that they had gone there for their first dinner during the 1999 trip, so I decided to recreate that night for her twenty years later.

"Oh, Mohammed!" Ryan sighs sweetly. "I love this place! How did you know?"

"Your dad told me about your first night here and how you went to this restaurant," I explain, pulling my phone out of my pocket. "He sent me this picture of you and your brothers as kids, posing in front of the beach."

"Oh, I remember this!" Ryan exclaims, admiring the picture. It's of her six-year-old self, showing off her gap-toothed smile as the waves crash behind her. Standing next to her are her four older brothers: eleven-year-old twins Rowan and Radley, ten-year-old Adam, and eight-year-old Garnet.

"I thought that maybe we could recreate this picture with you and I," I suggest. "I thought that maybe you could move in with me. We can get the picture framed and hang it up in our house. It will be a permanent memory of a good time that we had together."

Ryan's eyes light up, and she gives me a blinding smile. "Oh, Mohammed, I would love to move in with you! Thank you so much!"

I hug her body close to mine. "You're welcome. I love you. You know, if we get married—and I really hope we will—one day, we can always look at our picture and remember our amazing trip."

She kisses my cheek. "Ah, that is my dream one day. Come on, let's take our picture."

I give my phone to a kind stranger, and Ryan and I lean against the railing and smile wide for our first memory in San Francisco.

The next day, I take her shopping. The day passes quickly, and it is soon nighttime, the time I have been anticipating. I am going to take her to see the Golden Gate Bridge and look at the stars. It's the best surprise that I have for her on this vacation, and I imagine that she'll love it (this theory is supported by her father, so I'm pretty confident).

Ryan holds my hand as we stroll down a street. "San Francisco really is amazingly beautiful at night. That's something I've always remembered from my first time here."

"I know," I agree. "I've never travelled the States too much since I moved here in 2008, but I'm definitely going to now."

"It's amazing," Ryan looks up at me with shining eyes. "I've gone to all sorts of places that you've probably never heard of in your life. My favorite one was probably Biloxi, which is a place in southern Mississippi. I went right after my thirteenth birthday in 2006. I remember walking down the beach back to our hotel, listening to music on my iPod and occasionally getting chased by my brothers."

I smile at her as she remembers. "Maybe I'll make that next year's trip."

Ryan's smile widens even further, and she leans against my shoulder. "I'd like that, Mohammed. I'd really like that."

I sigh and look up at the stars. Finally, after sitting outside for almost two hours, Ryan and I decide to go back to our hotel for the night.

As I fall asleep in our bed, I smile to myself. I think about my past and how stressful it was for me. Moving to a whole new country and having to learn their language. Getting called hurtful slurs on the ice and being told to go back to the Middle East. Engaging in a fight with my own teammate just because I thought that she would hurt me. My girlfriend's father telling her not to date me, saying that I was a terrorist.

I also think about the present. Now, I'm on a hockey team whose members, including the woman I fought with, all love and accept me despite the negative stereotypes about my ethnicity and religion. I am dating my amazing girlfriend, and her father has slowly started to accept our relationship. I am happy here.

Finally, I think about the future. I imagine winning many more Smithson Cups with the Albany Capitals before my retirement. I dream of marrying Ryan and having a few kids with her. I hope that the world will love me for who I choose to be, not hate me based off of false assumptions.

Until then, though, I can be grateful for the good things in life and hope that things continue to go as well as they are right now.