“Sure, no problem.”
***
Malik was quick to rush off after their almost-rendezvous on the cinema chair, Amie still none the wiser as to where he was going.
At the dressmakers, there was a lavish spread of tea and homemade cakes sprawled out across a low table as Amie, Zafina, and Sadira sat patiently with the intention of finding the perfect wedding dress. Deep down, Amie knew she wasn’t actually going to get to wear the dress, but since when could she say no to shopping, let alone a personalized gown?
She just couldn’t say no to Sadira. Ever since the woman had warmed to her, she had quickly become her second mother; her home away from home. She had given her tips on how to handle Malik, as well as asking endless questions about Chicago and the state of Malik’s business. This proved to be an uncomfortable topic for Amie, since she didn’t really know anything about it. When she touted that business was booming, Zafina responded with a frown and said, “I thought the market just took a hit?”
Amie didn’t know what to say. Her face flushed red until Sadira politely laughed it off, citing how protective Amie was over her son’s reputation.
After tea, Amie would finally begin trying dresses on. Sadira asked Amie if she missed her mother being here on such an important occasion, and Amie was quick to reply that she hardly felt left out, now that her new family was present.
“Besides,” Zafina said slowly, “Your mother will be there for the American ceremony, no?”
“What do you mean?” Amie frowned.
“Generally, when our people marry foreigners, there is a long, traditional wedding celebration here in Rabayat, and then a second celebration back in your home country. Malik did tell you this, yes?”
“Oh right,” Amie said, somewhat unconvincingly. “Yes, he did mention that. My mother is so excited!”
“Did you mother like Malik right away?” Sadira asked, absent-mindedly watching the dressmaker hanging wedding gowns onto a rolling rack to display. “I hope she had no qualms about his background.”
“Oh no, no, no!” Amie protested. “She was absolutely charmed by Malik. How could she not be?”
“I don’t know, his awful reputation, perhaps?” Zafina snorted.
Sadira looked uncomfortable and began fiddling with the fabric on her dress, fussing with any loose beads she found. It was clear she was trying to distance herself from the conversation, but Amie could tell she was still listening intently.
“We heard he beds a different girl every night.”
Amie’s heart sank. How was she supposed to respond to that?
Zafina watched her future sister-in-law’s face and seemed to take some pity on her, relenting somewhat as she continued. “All rumors, which of course Malik denies. Though it has to make you nervous, yes?”
“Of course,” Amie said slowly. “But when you turn yourself off from something simply based on unfounded reputations… well, you can lose out on wonderful experiences. After all, I wouldn’t be sitting here with my new sister and mother if I hadn’t taken a chance with Malik.”
Sadira looked up and smiled; tears filling her eyes. “What a wonderful answer, and so true.”
Even Zafina looked quelled by her response. For a moment, Amie thought she might finally be out of the danger zone, until Sadira reached over and grabbed her hand, politely insisting she speak to Amie’s mother over the phone.
“Usually, we would have gotten a chance to sit down and dine together—the whole family. I want to get to know your mother so badly,” she said sweetly. “Please, give me her number and tell her I wish to speak with her.”
Amie’s eyes went wide. “Oh… I don’t know,” she responded bashfully. “There’s a huge time difference between here and Indiana; I’m not sure she’ll even be awake.”
“That’s fine,” Sadira said; all problem solving. “I’ll be sure to call at a convenient time.”
“Oh…” Amie stalled; unsure what to say next as a dawning horror came upon her: she was going to end up giving Sadira her mother’s phone number—what other choice did she have?