Ayesha At Last(52)

Khalid had never felt this way about anyone else. This tumbling, this lightening, this easing. Was this what it felt like to fall in love? It was so different than what he had expected. For the first time in his life, he could imagine what it must feel like to be drunk and completely unbalanced.

All the lights were on when he opened the front door and Farzana was waiting for him in the living room, along with Aliyah Aunty and a few other women he didn’t recognize. His mother welcomed him, beaming, and he grinned back, pleased she looked so happy.

“Khalid, where have you been? I have glorious news!”

“I had dinner with a friend. Actually, I have some news too.”

Farzana waved his words away. “I found you the perfect wife. You’re engaged to be married!”

Khalid was blinded by a flash of light. Aliyah Aunty grinned behind her cell phone. “Posted to Facebook,” she said. “Congratulations, Farzana!”

“What?” he asked, staring stupidly, but his mother was surrounded by her friends, who crowded around with words of congratulations and suggestions for banquet halls and jewellers.

“Mubarak. I know you and Hafsa will be very happy,” Aliyah Aunty said beside him.

Khalid’s heart, which felt like it had stopped beating, began to thud in his chest. “What?” he repeated.

“Your Ammi and I went to see her a few weeks ago. Didn’t you know? Maybe Farzana wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m surprised,” Khalid said. He felt behind him for the sofa and sat down.

“Their home is so beautiful. Farzana was a little concerned that Hafsa was too old for you, but I told her it would be a good match.”

Khalid tried smiling. “I’m engaged to Hafsa,” he said out loud, and the words sounded so sweet in his ears that he said it again. “I’m engaged to Hafsa!”

Farzana came up to them. “The engagement party will be Sunday,” she told Khalid. “You will meet her for the first time then.”

Khalid didn’t tell his mother he had already met his future wife, or that he had come home tonight to tell her that he didn’t want to be with anyone else. “Yes, Ammi,” he said instead. His heart felt too big for his chest.

Farzana patted her son on the arm. “You are all I have left in this world, my most precious possession. I have chosen a bride who will make us both very happy.” Farzana’s eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. Khalid embraced her, and Aliyah Aunty snapped another picture. “I promise you will be happy, Allah kassam,” Farzana said. “As long as you listen to me. I know what is best for you.”





Chapter Twenty-Two

Khalid should have been miserable at work, but instead he couldn’t stop smiling. Even though Sheila had effectively demoted him from e-commerce manager to website developer, the sort of job performed by new graduates, he was too happy to feel the sting of humiliation. He had spent all week inputting data, and the only thing left was layout design. He was leaning toward brown and mustard yellow for the colours of the website, with a black background. Hafsa said black was classy.

The thought of Hafsa made him grin. His fiancée, Hafsa, thought black was classy. His fiancée, Hafsa, had excellent taste.

Clara spotted Khalid as he sat on the front steps of the Livetech building during the lunch hour and walked over. She asked him how work was going.

“Nothing has changed. I’m still designing a website for WomenFirst Design and Sheila still hates me,” he said with a smile.

Clara sat down beside Khalid, tucking her knees under her. “Sheila hates everyone. She makes her assistant cry daily. Yesterday she fired three people in accounting because she was mad at her hairstylist. But she won’t fire you. I’m not sure what you did, but your new lingerie clients love you.”

“It is a mystery,” Khalid said. “Let me ask you something. Do you think yellow and brown are ugly colours for a website?”

“Yes.”

“What about orange and green?” Khalid said. “Purple and yellow?”

Clara winced. “Listen, I want to apologize for dinner last night. I’m so embarrassed.”

“There is no need. How are you and Rob?”

“I don’t know. I’m afraid Rob doesn’t even know why I’m pissed.” Clara’s laughter was hollow. “Your arranged marriage idea is starting to sound really sensible. At least both parties know where they’re headed.”

“The Prophet Muhammad’s wife Khadijah proposed to him,” Khalid said. “She was fifteen years older, a rich widow, and they were happily married for decades. I think he liked her confidence.” Khalid smiled again, eyes dreamy. Clara blinked at him.

“Have you talked to your friend today?” Khalid asked her, and Clara shook her head. “Maybe you should call her,” Khalid said. “Maybe she has news she is waiting to tell you.”

Clara’s cell phone pinged with another angry email from Sheila and she rose, reluctantly, and took her leave.

Khalid’s excitement made it hard for him to concentrate when he returned to his desk. He decided to write Zareena a quick email:

Salams. I didn’t want you to hear this from anyone else. I’m engaged! To that girl I was telling you about, Hafsa Shamsi! Ammi arranged the whole thing, without even knowing how I felt. You were right, Z, I do like her. A lot. The way things worked out, I know it was meant to be. I’m really happy. I’m even happier because Ammi arranged the entire thing!