Chapter Thirteen
Abdullah suited her family. He sat in between her brothers, sipping chai and talking as if he had known them since forever. The ice had finally broken, and her brothers—especially Zakariya bhai—looked at ease. Even her father, who was usually a rather quiet and reserved man, was talking more than she had seen him talk to anyone on the first meeting.
I think he's going to ask soon, Shasmeen texted Abeer. He looks really happy
She could easily imagine Abdullah and herself with her family; picnics on pleasant afternoons, walks on the beach in the early morning, family dinners. She imagined all of them engaging in laughter and light banter and lengthy discussions of life. She imagined her father starting with his occasional reflections of the Quran, encouraging them one by one to share what they felt about particular verses.
It was all so reachable, so close.
Any man would be happy with you, Abeer shot back. Shasmeen rolled her eyes at her best friend's habit of turning anything into a compliment.
Pancakes. Their code word reminder for, you're praising me for something I don't deserve praise on. Like maple syrup and strawberry jam and melted caramel on pancakes, which were already sweet, pancakes was what they said to each other when they were grateful but felt undeserving.
No. The truth.
Shasmeen shook her head. They could go on for days, but neither would back down. They hyped up and supported each other fervently when needed, and advised and critiqued each other harshly when needed. Changing the subject, she typed: What are you doing?
Patting the boys to sleep. You?
Hiding in the kitchen. Shasmeen pushed herself off the kitchen counter, from where she had been observing Abdullah through the dining room's mirror.
The night was progressing fast, the clock that inched toward eleven pm attested to that. Hurry up Abdullah, we don't have all night.
Her gaze flickered to the sliding door, recalling the hazy memory of someone standing there drenched on an evening very much like the one she was experiencing now. Back then her heart had gone from whole to shattered in a matter of a few hours, now her heart was only growing fuller and fuller.
"Shasmeen?" Her mother called out, entering through the second staircase after praying Isha. "Kia kar rahi hain? What are you up to?"
The daughter smiled gently. "Stargazing." She nodded towards the mirror, bringing her mother's gaze towards what she saw.
Reema knitted her eyebrows, showing equal amounts of disapproval and excitement at her daughter staring at her suitor. "He looks at home, doesn't he?"
"Yeah. Do you think Baba likes him?"
"He does. Look at him smiling, he doesn't smile like that with anyone other than his children."
"Are you excluding yourself, Ma? Are you complaining?"
"Shasmeen," her mother warned.
"Mazak tha!" She chuckled, "It's a joke!" She hugged her mother, an antic of hers to drown her with love before her mother said anything to admonish or correct her.
"How are you feeling?" Reema asked, gently pushing Shasmeen away to study her face.
"Seriously speaking?" Shasmeen let out a shaky sigh. She felt shy to answer, but confessed,"I think he's everything I've ever prayed for."
A tranquil smile slowly emerged on her mother's face. "I think so too."
They stood in contentment, smiling and marveling in silence over the decree of Allah; of how He blesses us with the best through ways we cannot even imagine. After numerous proposals that would raise her hopes and dash them in minutes, leaving her wondering if she deserved a happy end and a break from the constant anxiety of tomorrow, Abdullah had appeared suddenly. Not only had he won her heart, but also her parents'.
Just then they heard her father call out to her.
"Coming, Baba!"
She sent her mother another grin before heading to the living room. All eyes turned towards her briefly, sending a current down her spine at a particular pair.
"Abdullah would like to speak to you," her father told her gently. "You can go into the backyard."
Jee. She couldn't find her voice suddenly, so she nodded her head.
Her heart hammered in her heart as she led Abdullah outside. The night was lightened with the half moon, but it grew brighter when Talha flicked on the fairy lights that stretched from the first floor roof to the fence that separated their house from Zakariya bhai's.
The living room curtains were pushed to the side so that both of them were in clear view, but the door was closed so that they could talk without fearing that anyone would hear them.
"You cook really well," Abdullah announced, standing a few away from her.
"Thank you, you eat really well."
He let out a laugh, surprised at her for noting how much he had eaten. "Well, I won't deny that I have an appetite for good food."
Shasmeen felt her cheeks grow warm. "So...what did you want to talk about?" She stared hard at his shoes, suddenly too shy to look at him.
"I, um..." He grew closer just by an inch, but his register fell a few octaves. "My sister has the family ring, and I...I can't offer it without her being there with me."
Shasmeen's eyes grew wide, and on instinct she lifted her face to look at his. Did he just...
"Soon," was all he said.
Soon. Soon. Soon.
She could wait for soon, she decided. Soon sounded good enough.
"Okay," she whispered, nodding her head.
"Thank you."
With nothing left to say, they returned inside, and very soon Abdullah departed from their home, and then the country, taking with him a piece of Shasmeen which she would never have again.
"Dr. Patel here is really nice. He's going to help you and Sammy take a short little nap, so that when you wake up, you're going to be all better," Shasmeen explained, caressing the doll her five year old patient was holding.
"Is it going to hurt?"
"Hurt? Of course not!" Shasmeen turned towards the tall anesthesiologist. "It's not going to hurt one bit, right, Dr. Patel?"
"You won't even know," he offered, giving a shy grin.
"You're going to be okay, my dear," the girl's mother said, exchanging glances with the health workers surrounding them.
"Alrighty, let's be on our way then, shall we?" The girl's nurse announced, rechecking the stretcher bands and signaling for the other surgery nurse to start wheeling her.
Shasmeen waved at the young patient heading into the Operation Theater. She said a silent prayer for the girl, and then started to head back to her office. Most of her days were spent in the Oncology department tending to the children who came regularly for chemo and follow-up visits. But stepping into other departments to talk to anxious children or distressed parents wasn't uncommon, it did however, throw her off her schedule. For example, she hadn't checked her phone for what felt like hours, potentially delaying her from seeing any texts from Abdullah.
She swiped at her phone, occasionally lifting her gaze to navigate her way through the busy hallways. Abdullah had touched down in Melbourne two mornings ago, but so far he hadn't reached out to her.
I wonder if he's jetlagged. Or maybe he's bombarded with work.
Last week when he had asked her to wait for him, she had expected him to keep in touch in whatever limited capacity he found appropriate. A single, reached safely, alhumdulillah, would have been sufficient.
"Maybe he's waiting for the weekend," she whispered to herself. Returning home after weeks of vacation would mean catching up with a lot of work. She knew Abdullah maintained his own home and cat, he definitely had a lot to catch up with. There was cooking and cleaning and paying bills and grocery and checking the mail and—
Ya Allah, thank you for blessing me with such an independent and resourceful man.
There was so much for her to be grateful for. Abdullah truly was unlike any other man. He was straight out of a fairytale.
Grinning to herself, she stored away her text-less phone, and turned the corner, nearly colliding into Roshni. "Sorry," she said, taking a few steps back from her former work bestie.
"It's fine," Roshni announced, looking at Shasmeen's face. Her brows knitted in worry just for her moment before an unreadable mask replaced it. "How...how are you?"
Her companion's heart melted, bringing along a smile. "I'm well, how are you? How's Preetika?"
Roshni's face softened at the mention of her daughter. "She started second grade this August, so it's keeping her busy."
"Second grade already? That's so exciting!"
"She loves school, keeps life easy for me."
"I'm glad." Shasmeen smiled warmly at her former friend, remembering all the stolen moments in between shifts when Roshni would go on and on about her seven year old daughter. She would rant about Preetika's new found interests in baking breads and decorating cakes. She would laugh along with Shasmeen, relating how they were having cake for meals because there was so much of it.
Shasmeen remembered it all well, and she secretly wished she could experience it again. Her friendship with Roshni had started in a similar way, them colliding into each other, and then quickly breaking into apologies.
"You're the new floor CLS, right?" Roshni had asked, mildly gesturing to Shasmeen's name tag. She seemed to remember her from earlier that week, when the Department Head introduced her to the team.
"Yes!" She touched the tag clipped to her breast pocket, letting out a nervous laugh. "You're Roshni, right?"
"You remembered!"
"You've a beautiful name, Roshni, light. It's rather memorable."
"It's nice to know someone understands." Roshni's smile was warm. "My mother actually named me Roshni because I was born on the anniversary of our village getting electricity."
"Really? That's so interesting!" Shasmeen gushed. "Where are you from? I mean where's your family from?"
"Badin."
"Badin? Like the one in Sindh? You're from Pakistan too?" Shasmeen's excitement was contagious, and within minutes the girls were bonding over ajrak and sohan halwa and Karachi's Clifton.
She had thought that having the same ethnic background would mean they would never run out of things to talk about, and would have regard for each other no matter what happened. But she hadn't been more wrong. Their similar identity despite their religious difference was what became the cause of their discord.
Shasmeen stared at Roshni now, knowing that reliving their good times was impossible with the present distance between them. Hearts once broken, couldn't be put together again.
In the silence between them, Roshni was feeling the same, because she took a step back, raising an invisible wall, and said, "Have a good rest of your day."
"Thanks, you too."
Shasmeen gulped the knot in her throat, willing herself to think of happier things. Of hopeful things.
She had tried making sushi earlier that morning, and it had come out better than any of her previous attempts. She felt proud of herself for the progress that she had made, and was certain that she would very soon beat Mubashir in his own challenge.
Mubashir and Aaliyah bhabi's mother was arriving the coming Saturday. With Mubashir now finally having a home of his own, Aunty would be staying with him—rather than with Zakariya bhai and Aaliyah bhabi, which was somewhat sad for Shasmeen because she rather enjoyed Aunty's cooking—and as per routine in her trips, would be hosting a large family dinner in his apartment.
Shasmeen couldn't wait to strut in with her platter of sushi and wow everyone with her skills.
"You'll wish you never crossed my way," she whispered to herself, imagining Mubashir's crestfallen look upon losing.
It's going to make for a lovely farewell gift. Victory in anything against him would be a source of pleasure for her, but this victory was going to be special because it would mark the first victory in a series of victories against him. He had rejected her years ago, and now her rejected self was going to be marrying before him, to someone far more charming, far more ambitious—moving across the globe for work was more ambitious than across the country—and surely far more kind.
He had thought that his fiancee was the best thing to exist, he was going to find out very soon that her fiance was actually the best thing to exist.
She had no intention to act as self absorbed as he had been in his engagement; making his fiancee the center of attention and having it known that she was promised to him. But she did intend to show him how to gracefully flaunt one's engagement. She could definitely teach him a thing or two, leading the way for him to follow.
Shasmeen took out her phone again to check for messages. Aoa wr wb Abdullah, I hope you reached safely, she typed, deciding to reach out first. She was obviously the freer one in the relationship, she didn't have a home to manage, yet. Besides, a secure bond didn't require tallying who texted first or reached out more. They were equally committed.
My brothers were asking after you too. She hit sent, suddenly feeling better.
She was going to teach Mubashir how to maintain his engagements to the point of marriage. All she needed first was to get a reply back from her beau.