Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Henna Party and a Surprise
The black nondescript car slowly revved its way up the rounding path, leading to the huge Ahmed home. Black-clad men patiently waited the arrival of the Ahmeds while maids within the home frantically put together last-minute touches. The Ahmeds should never find themselves displeased with the state of the home. Quickly fluffing up the cushions on the sofa, Abigail's eyes roamed around the huge home, making sure not a speck of dirt was to be seen. The walkie-talkie on her hip crackled as Jim, one of the guards at the gate, said in his usual quiet voice, "The Ahmeds have arrived. Be prepared."
Abigail's eyes widened as she and the other maids scurried forward to take their place near the doorway, ready to take any luggages or outerwear the Ahmeds may have. Though it was a tiring job, Abigail tried not to complain about her work as a maid. Life isn't easy with two boys and no father in the picture. She needed to do her best here for her sons to have a good future. A small, sad smile graced her face as she thought of her kids, wishing she could stay with them for longer hours. She couldn't complain though, as Mr. Ahmed has been kind enough to provide funds for their education. The sound of the door opening brought Abigail out of her thoughts.
"Hello," Mr. Ahmed said with a smile as he rolled his luggage in. Aubrey, the youngest of the maids, rushed forward to take the luggage from him. He let her take it away as he pulled off his coat, exhausted but happy to be home. NYC was good to them, but nothing beats home.
Mrs. Ahmed followed, her hijab a bit askew but a smile gracing her face. She looked elegant and lovely, as always. Kylie, the other maid, stepped up to take the luggage from her hand. "Oh, thank you so much, Kylie. It is so wonderful to be home," she said, her smile widening at the sight of the maids standing before her. Abigail only smiled back, wondering how they fared in NYC. Were there maids there too? Or did they have to do everything by themselves?
Abigail waited patiently for Nida to arrive. When the door opened again, there was a girl in hijab, wearing a teal skirt and black blazer. She was dragging not one, but two suitcases and both looked familiar. Weren't they Nida's? Abigail's eyes darted to the girl's face again and this time she recognized the features. With a gasp, Abigail hurried forward to take the luggages from Nida's hands.
"I'm so sorry, miss, I didn't recognize you!" Abigail said as she rushed forward. She prayed she wouldn't get fired. She really couldn't afford it.
"Oh, it's okay," Nida said, gently prying Abigail's hands off the handle. "I can do it, thank you." Abigail only stood, frozen in shock, as she watched the heir to the Ahmed empire walk off with her luggage. Where did the arrogant, self-obsessed girl go?
~*~*~*~*~
In the silence of her room, Nida covered her face, embarrassed. She doesn't know how she will ever face the maids again. She was so awful to them, petty, and abusive. How can she show her remorse? She realized she didn't even know anything about them. The first step, she decided, is to know who they are and what would make them happy. How is she supposed to figure that out? She thought back to the countless times the ladies cleaned up after her mess and silently did what they were supposed to. Could it be as simple as having a paid break? Who could know better than her father who pays them?
With a small smile on her lips, Nida formed a plan on how to give back. But first, she needed to unpack, as well as rid herself of her previous wardrobe. Perhaps she could make some items work for her, too.
Two and a half hours later, a freshened-up Nida left her room, her wardrobe sorted and her clothes from NYC unpacked. She walked down the familiar halls to her father's study, where she was sure to find him. He is a workaholic, after all. Within minutes she caught sight of her father through the glass window of his door, his back to her, as he spoke calmly on the phone. Nida knew that her father had a no-nonsense voice when he made his demands for work. She waited until he hung up to knock on his door.
"Nida," Mr. Ahmed said, smiling as he turned and saw his daughter. "Come in."
"Abba," Nida said as she stepped in, "are you working already? We just landed only hours ago."
"Work waits for no one, beta," Mr. Ahmed said with a sigh. "I need to find an assistant soon; the workload becomes too much for your old father. Perhaps once Husayn finishes his program for debt rehabilitation, I can recruit him for the job."
Nida ignored her heart stuttering as she stared straight ahead into her father's eyes and said, "do you think he would want to stay here? Wouldn't that be a huge move?"
"That is up to him, of course," Mr. Ahmed said with a sigh. "But I hope he'll agree; I need someone I can trust. From what I saw of him while we were in NYC, he is a very trustworthy young man. If he chooses not to, I will have to let the company know and the departments can bring in their best candidates for the position."
"Right," Nida nodded. "I came to talk about something else, Baba, not work." She laughs lightly.
"Of course," Mr. Ahmed nodded. "What is it?"
"Do you know much about the maids that work for us?" she asked point blank.
"The maids?" Mr. Ahmed blinked. "What do you want to know?"
"Just who they are, what they are into, what makes them happy," Nida trailed off, a little embarrassed.
Mr. Ahmed smiled, seeing how his daughter has truly changed. But coming to him is not how this should be done. "Why don't you ask them?"
Nida stared at her father. "Ask them myself?"
Her father nodded. "How else can you get to know people?"
Nida swallowed, afraid of the prospect of facing the maids by herself. "Okay, I'll . . .try." She left her father's study, unsure of how to go about with this new plan she didn't anticipate.
~* ~* ~* ~* ~
The weeks passed by so quickly, Imaan could have sworn she blinked, and it was all gone. In the time since Nida had left, the three girls had formed a group chat and spoke to each other daily. Nida has begun her final year of high school and though she has faced criticism from her so-called friends, she reassured Jenna and Imaan that she can handle it. Her bigger concern, she says, is to show how much she regrets her attitude towards her maids. She is doing her best to make up for it. Just the thought of Nida going out of her way for someone she would have scoffed at only months ago made her beam with pride. Jenna, too, expressed how surprised she is by the new Nida and what she had to offer to the world. The cousins marveled at her level of goodness in such a short time.
"I wish she could have made it for the wedding, honestly," Jenna said as she put up a lily on the wreath of flowers hanging at the center of Imaan's living room wall. The two were decorating the room for Imaan's henna party the next day. They've put up a shimmering, champagne-colored backdrop and pearl strings on the border of the backdrop. They draped some fabric on the edges and transformed the wall into a faux stage.
"I wish she was here, too," Imaan said, a sad smile on her face. "It would have been so nice."
Jenna nodded, as she refocused on finishing up the decorations. "Okay, let's move on to the front hall downstairs." Imaan gathered the tools and materials while Jenna grabbed some fairy lights and the duo made their way to the hall. In an hour, the front hall was decorated with fairy lights twinkling from the ceiling and flowers artfully posted around. The space looked simple and elegant, just as Imaan liked.
"Ready for tomorrow?" Jenna grinned.
"As one could possibly ever be," Imaan said, exhaling sharply.
"It's only the henna night. Just fun, no worries." Jenna smiled reassuringly.
"Yeah," Imaan replied, forcing a smile. "Fun."
~*~*~*~*~
Imaan woke up late the next morning, courtesy of her thoughts running around in her brain til late last night. By the time she showered and was dressed in a cotton printed salwar kameez, it was noon. Surprised, Imaan rushed to the kitchen and found her mom at the stove, cooking polau for the guests to come. The rest of the food was ordered but her mother insisted on making at least one home-made dish.
"Amma, why didn't you wake me up?" Imaan said as she came to her mother's side.
"I know you couldn't sleep," Mrs. Choudhary smiled at her daughter. "Big day, after all. You needed the rest to look presentable today."
"Oh, Ammi," Imaan shook her head exasperatedly while Mrs. Choudhary laughed. Imaan without a good night's rest is awful—dark eyes, wild bedhead hair, and a slowness to her walk—she was practically a zombie.
"Go have some breakfast," Mrs. Choudhary nudged her daughter aside and continued to stir the pot. "I'm almost done here."
Imaan nodded, clearing away dishes and cleaning up the kitchen before sitting down for breakfast. She couldn't believe the day has come—the beginning of the end of her life with her family, her life as she had known it to be. It will be frightening, but worth it.
"When are you going to get ready?" Imaan's mom asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.
"The henna party isn't until another five hours," Imaan replied, confused.
"Yes, but it takes women a while to dress and look good." Her mother turned to look at her, in her plain clothes, and shook her head. "You need to go soon."
Imaan looked down at herself, wondering why she would need five hours to get ready. She huffed at her mother's insinuation that she needed help to look decent and got up.
"I'm going," Imaan grumbled. Her mother's laugh echoed as she made her way to her room.
In her room, Imaan pulled out her outfit for the event—a teal blue and yellow lehenga set, with embroidery cascading down the front of the skirt. She stared at it apprehensively, the dress requiring her to show more skin than she ever had in years. The sleeves were short, and the top stopped just at the waist. It made her nervous, just thinking of wearing this in front of so many people. Dressing up alone in the comfort of one's room was fine, but doing it with many others present? That's almost torture.
Imaan shook off the thoughts quickly. Changing the dress was not an option any longer. She needed to get ready. Imaan quickly sent a text to Aamilah and Raaina, asking them to come soon so they can style her and do her makeup. She refused to get any additional services. Her best friends were more than enough.
~*~*~*~*~
Time must have sped up because the next thing Imaan knew, she was in her dress, her hair up in a braided bun, her eyes ringed with liner and her face contoured. The person looking back at her in the mirror was unrecognizable.
"Yay!" Aamilah squealed as she admired her handiwork. "You look so gorgeous! I knew the smoky eye look would look amazing on you!"
"You did well," Raaina added, impressed. She added some final touches to the hairdo before asking Imaan, "well, what do you think?"
Imaan smiled at her friends, pleased with the result and yet unable to find herself in her reflection. "Thank you both so much! I didn't realize how much makeup can alter a person's face."
Aamilah frowned. "That sounds like you don't really like it."
"I do," Imaan insisted, "I just can't believe that's me." She angled her body sideways, taking in the makeup and draped dupatta on her head. Everything was just so much!
"Do you want to get rid of some of the jewelry? Or the makeup?" Raaina asked, somehow able to understand what Imaan didn't verbalize.
"Maybe a little bit of both?" Imaan asked.
Aamilah harrumphed before giving in. It took another twenty minutes to get rid of the smoky eye, replace it with a simple gold shadow, and blend it all in.
"There, satisfied?" Aamilah said as she put away her makeup brushes.
Imaan smiled. Now she could see herself in the mirror. "Much," Imaan nodded. "Thank you so much for changing it up for me."
"Gotta give the client what they want," Aamilah said with a shrug. "Or, in this case, the best friend and the bride." She grinned before heading off to change into her outgit and to do her own makeup.
"I think the guests are trickling in," Raaina said, as she looked through Imaan's window at the view of the front yard.
"Who have you seen so far?" Imaan asked, as she tugged at her top, trying to make sure her body is covered.
"Some of your cousins, the neighbors," Raaina murmured. "Oh! Mina auntie and Atiyah are here!"
Imaan sucked in a gasp, reality hitting her again, that this was her henna party and that she was the one getting married. "Okay," Imaan said and exhaled. "Bring them up here so they can see me before I head down."
"Really?" Raaina said, surprised. Imaan nodded firmly and Raaina went down to get them. Imaan barely had time to panic about what she just agreed to do, when Atiyah and Mina auntie came in, followed by Raaina.
"Oh, you look gorgeous!" Atiyah gushed as Mina auntie beamed at her.
"Asalamualaykum, beautiful," Mina auntie said as she came forward to give Imaan a hug. "The dress suits you so well. And your friends did such a great job with the makeup and setting the dupatta properly."
"They don't disappoint," Imaan said after she responded to the salaam and they separated from their hug.
"Your room is really neat," Atiyah remarked as she took in the ceiling-to-floor bookshelf on one side, the vanity table filled with makeup sets, the chest of drawers, and the queen-sized bed on the right side. "Hayder bhaiya is not half as neat."
Mina auntie playfully smacked her neice's arm. "Don't scare her away! We just got to the henna day."
Imaan giggled at the duo's banter. "Don't worry," Imaan reassured them, "I've prayed to Allah for this to happen if it was best for me. I'm not going to go against what Allah has already approved for me."
Mina auntie smiled. "Good."
After a few more minutes, the trio headed out, Aamilah and Raaina in tow. The women and children cheered as she entered, some hooting her name, others simply clapping. The elders simply watched and smiled at the youngsters' antics.
Imaan sat at the front of the room, where the faux stage was set up. Her mother came up to her, smiling proudly at her daughter. "May Allah keep you happy," she said simply before settling down next to Imaan.
Imaan's aunts came up one by one as they wished her well and brought their gifts to her. Her cousin, Aleena, was doing her henna while Jenna hosted the party. The next few hours went by with lots of fun activities, teasing, and dancing. Imaan couldn't remember a time she laughed so much or enjoyed herself as much as she had in those hours. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, Imaan thought to herself as the night came to an end, with guests slowly trickling out.
~*~*~*~*~
Sunlight filtered through the pink curtains of Imaan's bedroom, filling up the room with light. Jenna groaned as she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes. Imaan's henna party lasted til midnight but they couldn't sleep until three in the morning because of all the cleaning and reminiscing that took place after. All the relatives gathered to take a trip down memory lane, remembering tales of when Imaan was young and speaking of how good she was even as a child. There were tears shed and advices shared until eventually, everyone retired to the guest bedroom and space downstairs, in Jenna's apartment.
Jenna, though, stayed with Imaan in her room and they were awak til Fajr, with Jenna soothing Imaan's fears and reassuring her everything will be okay. Now, at noon, Jenna is exhausted but cannot sleep any longer because of the afternoon light coming through. She got up, her eyes half open, and looked to her right, where Imaan had slept. The space was empty. Yawning, Jenna rose from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She washed up and made her way out the door.
"Asalamualaykum," Jenna said, her voice rough from talking all night long just hours before. She flopped on to the chair at the dining table, watching Mrs. Choudhary make breakfast at the stove.
"Walaykum asalam, Jenna," Mrs. Choudhary said with a smile. "Your mother wants you downstairs. She needs help in the kitchen."
"Got it," Jenna nodded and made her way down the stairs. She made it only five steps before she heard a shrill scream.
"Ahhh!" Imaan squealed. "I can't believe you're here!"
"I can't believe I'm back already, too!" a familiar voice, with a rich English accent replied cheerfully.
Jenna hurried down to verify her guess. There, at the entrance of the door, was Nida, clad in a black abaya, with a paper bag in her hand.
"Nida!" Jenna cried.
"Surprise!" Nida exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with happiness. "I'm back for the wedding of the year."
~*~*~*~*~
The Abbas's living room was void of guests, everyone having left soon after breakfast. Jenna, Imaan, and Nida sat on the couch, with steaming mugs of coffee and green tea for Nida. The cousins were still surprised to see Nida come back so soon.
"How did you make it?" Jenna asked, as she sipped her coffee.
"I asked Baba if I can come back for a weekend," Nida shrugged. "Perks of being wealthy, I guess." As soon as she realized what came out of her mouth, she gasped. "I did not mean to sound like an arrogant heiress, I swear."
Imaan couldn't help it. She burst out laughing and Jenna soon followed. "Don't worry," Imaan said. "We know you didn't mean it like that."
"I get it," Jenna added. "You can't help it that you're rich."
Nida nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, speaking of being rich, I brought gifts."
"Ooh, gifts!" Jenna cried. "I love gifts!"
Nida grinned as she went and grabbed some items out of the bag she brought with her. They were gift-wrapped and in flat boxes. One had Jenna's name in script and the other had Imaan's name in boxed letters.
"Here," Nida handed each of the girls their respective boxes. "I hope you like them."
Jenna tore hers gleefully while Imaan gently pried off the wrapper. The flat boxes revealed an assortment of items: jewelry, scented candles, a gift card to their favorite clothing store, a ticket to New York Fashion Week for Jenna, and two Umrah packages for Imaan and her soon-to-be husband.
"Whoa!" Jenna gasped and Imaan could only look at Nida with an expression filled with gratitude.
"Thank you so much," Imaan said and reached over to give Nida a heartfelt hug. "Allah answered my prayers through you. I have wanted to visit Mecca desperately for years. Thank you. May Allah reward you with everything good in this world and the next, Ameen."
Nida smiled, returning the hug. She was so glad her gifts were appreciated so much.
"I cannot believe you just got me a pass for New York Fashion Week!" Jenna squealed and attacked Nida with a hug.
"I'll be there, too," Nida laughed.
Jenna grinned, unable to stop herself from getting super excited. "Oh, this is going to be so awesome!"
"It will," Nida nodded, "but you two must tell me what I missed last night. Are there any photos?"
"Of course!" Jenna said before launching into a minute-by-minute recap of what happened the night before, with pictures and videos to share. Imaan slipped in some details and interjected at points but her quiet happiness shone through as she sat there and let Jenna do all the talking. It was unspoken but all three of them knew it was great to have Nida back.
~*~*~*~*~
All the elders eventually came in to see Nida. None of them were aware that she would visit, as she had simply booked a hotel room and made her way to the Abbas residence soon after. They were pleasantly surprised to see her. She brought them some small gifts as well—Rolex watches for Mr. Abbas and Mr. Choudhary, a gardening tool set for Mrs. Abbas, and a cookbook filled with recipes of various cuisines for Mrs. Choudhary. For Waleed, Imaan's little brother, Nida brought a Lego set.
"Why don't you stay overnight with us, Nida?" Mrs. Abbas asked as the Abbas family sat down for dinner.
Nida took a seat across Jenna as she replied, "I really don't want to impose upon you all."
"Impose?" Mrs. Abbas repeated. "Nonsense!"
"Besides," Nida added firmly, "you have a son in the house, and it is not befitting of me to be around him as he is a non-mahram."
Mr. and Mrs. Abbas stared at her, stunned by her response. It didn't occur to them in the slightest of how that might be an issue. "Right," Mrs. Abbas said, coming to her sense. "Of course."
Nida nodded and smiled, relieved that she would not have to stay and that she had yet to see Husayn. Despite being thousands of miles away, her heart still fluttered every time she thought back to her stay in the US. And now that she was back, it will only get worse.
"Have some of the salmon, dear," Mrs. Abbas said, snapping Nida out of her thoughts.
Nida forced a smile as she took a small bite of the salmon, not having much of an appetite to eat. She needed to leave soon; she did not want to be out at ten in the evening. Traveling without a mahram had its limits and she needed to be within those boundaries.
"Auntie, I really need to go," Nida said, standing. She washed her dish in the sink and pulled on her hoodie.
"How are you getting to your hotel?" Mr. Abbas asked from the dining table.
"I'll get an Uber, uncle," Nida replied as she walked back into the room. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"Uber is not always a safe choice," Jenna interjected, concern in her eyes. "We should drop you off."
"It's fine," Nida dismissed Jenna's concerns with a wave of her hand.
"No, it isn't," a familiar, deep voice sounded from behind her.
Nida whirled around to see Husayn at the doorway, his eyes hovering somewhere around her face, but not looking directly at her. He was in a light blue shirt and black sweats, looking very comfortable. She couldn't stop herself from staring at him for a second longer. His brown eyes wouldn't look back at her.
"I'll take you home," Husayn volunteered. "Jenna, come along for the ride."
"Okay, bhaiya!" Jenna agreed, rising from her chair to join them. Nida quickly picked up her purse and phone before following Husayn as he led the way to the car.
They settled in quietly, Jenna in the front and Nida in the back behind her. The ride felt awkward and conversation was stilted. Nida felt like she was suffocating. It was difficult to pretend everything was okay.
"Nida, thanks again for the gifts," Jenna said, aiming for one last effort at a decent conversation.
"You're welcome," Nida replied with a stiff smile.
"Gifts?" Husayn interrupted, finally opening his mouth for the first time throughout the ride.
"Oh, yeah, Nida brought gifts for us," Jenna replied. She turned to face Nida. "Did you get something for bhaiya?"
Nida glared at Jenna as she grinned, feigning innocence. "Did you check the bag properly?" Nida asked through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, I think." Jenna smiled.
"Did you find anything for anyone else?" Nida asked. She could see from the periphery of her vision how tense Husayn was, his hands stiff around the steering wheel.
"Nope," Jenna shook her head.
"There's your answer then, I guess," Nida said, not revealing the truth.
Jenna's excited face dropped, replaced by disappointment. She turned to face the front again, unaware of the sly smile on Nida's face. They reached her hotel room in another five minutes. With a smile and salam, Nida went into the hotel and fell asleep soon after she got into her room. It had been an exhausting day.
Back at the Abbas residence, Jenna was the first to see it. "Oh, look, bhaiya!" she exclaimed as she picked up the gift-wrapped box on the top shelf of the shoe rack. "It's yours! I knew she got something for you!"
Husayn's eyes widened as he registered that Nida did, in fact, get something for him as well. "Why?" he asked dumbly as he reached for the box.
"She got a gift for everyone, silly!" Jenna said as she watched him unwrap his present. Inside was a pair of Air Jordans, a wallet with his initials monogrammed at the bottom corner, and a keychain with his name in Arabic.
"Wow!" Jenna exclaimed. "She really went all out for all of us!"
Husayn nodded, unable to figure out exactly why she would gift him when he had done nothing but treat her coldly. This girl is strange, Husayn thought to himself with a shake of his head as he took the gifts into his room. "Tell her I said jazakallahu khayr," Husayn told his sister before closing the door behind him. Is there supposed to be more to this than just giving a gift to everyone? he wondered. Women are so difficult to understand.
~*~*~*~*~
Thoughts? Comments? Feedback?
~IrahierI