Accidentally Engaged(90)
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the woman behind the counter said.
“It’s gorgeous. Huge, though. Would never fit my wrist.”
The woman laughed. “It’s an anklet, dear. For your foot. This one is a bridal one. But we have less ornate ones as well. Can I show you?”
“Bridal?” Reena asked.
“Yes. It’s designed to be worn with a wedding lehenga. Aren’t you here with a bridal party? I believe we pulled some lehengas in the bride’s size.”
Reena couldn’t be sure exactly what came over her at that moment, but it appeared her mouth had been disconnected from her logical brain.
But maybe this wasn’t the time for logic. Maybe it was time for Reena to take her own leap of faith. “Yes, but could you show me some in my size?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Considering her unemployment and her decision to change careers, Reena should not have spent over three hundred dollars on a turquoise and pink lehenga with matching costume jewelry, but she wasn’t in any state to second-guess anything right now. This unhinged plan of hers was risky, but the money spent would be worth it if it worked.
She managed to hide the outfit from her family, who were too preoccupied by the discussion of whether orange or red looked better on Saira to notice Reena trying it on. When they saw her wrapped garment bag, Reena told them it was for Amira, who had no Indian stores nearby and who’d asked her to pick something up for her.
After Saira dropped Reena and Marley off at their apartment building, Reena said goodbye to her cousin and went straight to her bedroom and hung the lehenga in her closet, lightly fingering the subtle embroidery in ethereal silver and gold threads. It was so beautiful. The kind of outfit memories were made in.
Finally, she took a deep cleansing breath and took off her jeans and socks. She dug around her summer clothes to find a long, Indian-print skirt and white T-shirt. She took her hair out of its ponytail and added a bit of antifrizz serum to make sure her curls looked their best. Finally, she dabbed a bit of fragrance to her neck. She carefully removed the silver anklets from the black velvet box and fastened them to her feet, clipping the rings to her second toes. She wished she had time for a pedicure but needed to do this now before she lost her nerve, and her chance.
She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer for strength, and retrieved a single item from her dresser before leaving her apartment barefoot.
Reena knocked on Nadim’s door, her heart pounding in her chest. She clutched the item in her hand, leaving it slippery from sweat on her palm. He left the door chain attached again when he opened and peeked out the four-inch gap in the door.
“Reena, it’s you. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Perfect.”
“Then…I thought we agreed not to draw this out…say our goodbyes on Sunday.”
“I know. But I have something for you. Sit near the door, but don’t open the chain.”
“Okay…” Of course he was confused, but he did it anyway. She stepped in front of the opening in the door and could see him sitting cross-legged with a perplexed expression. “What are you up to?” he asked.
It was a bit of a squeeze, but she maneuvered one jeweled foot onto his lap.
She clearly heard him gasp, and she couldn’t help but giggle. The lightest touch trailed on her foot as his fingers outlined the chain running from her toe to her ankle. And, of course, that made her giggle more. Maybe this was a bad idea—someone with a foot fetish really shouldn’t be with someone so ticklish.
“This is for me?” he asked, reverently.
“Yes. You like?”
“I love it.” He chuckled, fingering the chain again. “This is beautiful.”
“There’s more.” She squeezed her foot off his lap and back into the hallway. “Open the door.”
Immediately after the door opened, he fell back down to the ground to look at both her feet this time. Running his fingers over the little bells around her ankles, hearing the soft jangling sound as they hit each other. She shivered as she closed the door behind her.
He looked up at her, eyes wide. “Are you trying to torture me?”
She laughed as she lowered herself to the ground as well, sitting in front of him, knees bent, both her feet in his cross-legged lap. He gripped her ankles before running his hands up under her skirt and over her smooth calves, and then back down to the anklets.
He looked into her eyes. “You’re beautiful.”
“I…” Her voice shook. She closed her eyes a second and then tried to smile. This was hard. Harder than she expected.
“I…” she started again. “You’ll probably think I’m nuts, but I just want to put this out there. Whatever you say is fine—we’ll still be friends—but I had to ask you before you leave…” She clenched her fist around the ring in her hand. “Nadim. Will you marry me?”
He stared at her for several seconds, his expression betraying shock, but nothing else. His hands around her ankles tightened. “Marry you?”
She smiled. “Yes. I know it’s sudden and ridiculous, but hear me out. We can run to Niagara Falls to one of those twenty-four-hour wedding places before you leave. Then I can sponsor you to come back to Canada as my family. It may take a bit, and we’d have to prove to immigration that this relationship is real, but we have those FoodTV videos as proof. And if the immigration doesn’t work or if you don’t want to live here, I’ll come there, wherever you are. London, Dar es Salaam, it doesn’t matter.” Her voice cracked. “Maybe this isn’t about standing on our own feet to defy our families, but instead choosing the family we want. And I want you to be my family. I’m on my way to falling in love with you. I have your thirty-dollar ring…” Her voice trailed off, losing steam as she showed him the swirling emotions in her eyes.