Page 175 of Bride By Initiation
She nods.
I kiss her hand again and then open the door.
A low drumming fills the air. Candles flicker all over the room. There's a massage table and a chair with a table attached to it.
Seven couples line up across from one another. Women stand next to the massage table in little black dresses and soft pink stilettos. Their hair is wrapped in messy buns and their backs face us. All their brands pop with the same pink roses and shading as my father's.
The men wear black suits and ties that match the women's shoes. They face the chair and hold their closed fist to their chest. Their brands are prominently displayed, also colored like my father's.
Valentina stands between the table and the chair. She beams at us.
The hairs on my arms rise. I tug Zara closer to me, still not trusting Valentina, even if she is my wife's cousin. Zara may not have any reservations about her, but I'm not letting my guard down.
The drumming stops.
Valentina chirps, "Welcome to the Ritual of Color and Shadows."
Zara puts her hand on my thigh, as if to steady herself.
I ask, "What does that mean?"
Valentina's expression brightens. She announces, "It means you've earned the right to move up a level, but we're not going to stretch out your phases. There are two seats at the table that other members desire to fill. The vacancies need to be filled on the seventh moon, which is right around the corner."
My mouth turns dry. I've read and re-read the rulebook too many times to count. There may be 666 seats, but it's rare that one becomes available, much less two.
Zara squeezes my hand tighter and pins her blues to my greens.
Valentina continues, "The Omni have decided you'll get your pink color and shadows tonight. It's rare for anyone to get granted the Ritual of Color and Shadows, but you have approval. It's normally one ritual at a time, so the Omni are especially happy with you and your choices."
Pride radiates from Zara.
Valentina points to the massage table. "Zara, lie on your stomach. Sean, sit in the chair and put your hand on the table."
Zara and I don't say anything, quietly taking our positions as instructed, but I grab her hand.
She smirks, stating, "Don't worry. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, Sean."
I chuckle. "I think you're going to have to squeeze mine harder."
"We'll see about that," she challenges.
I laugh, excited that my brand will now match my father's, and ecstatic we're moving up a level. We're one step closer to our seats at the table, and I couldn't be prouder that my wife is at my side.
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28
Zara
"Turn me out, turn me in," I sing, sliding into my robe and jamming to my new favorite song. I tie the belt around my waist, pick up the laundry basket, and step out of the closet.
I keep singing as I stroll into the laundry room and then put the basket on the counter. I separate the white clothes from the colored ones and start a pile for the dry cleaner.
A new song comes on, and I sing along with it. I check each piece of clothing in the white pile to ensure nothing is in the pockets, then toss them into the washing machine. I pour soap on top and turn it on.
I don't know all of the song's lyrics, so I hum to the beat as I repeat the process with the colored pile, setting each item aside.
As usual, Sean's pockets have things in them. Cash, coins, and a few pieces of paper with notes in his scratched writing. I roll my eyes, smiling as I check a pair of shorts, then move on to the dry-cleaning pile.
