“You’re officially an Aziz sister, now!” Saima exclaimed, looking around. “I can’t believe you did all this for me!”
Now it was Anna’s turn to be overcome by emotion. She buried her head in Saima’s shoulder for a moment so no onewould see her sudden tears, which she blinked away, fast. Weddings—and the holidays—really were all about family, and Anna had been feeling like she had none. But now a burst of warmth filled her. When she was released from Saima’s embrace, Maryam even gave her a slightly awkward, one-armed hug.
“Truly, thank you,” she whispered, and Anna nodded.
“My pleasure,” she said—and she meant it.
Anna had never had henna applied, so Maryam set to work with one of the plastic cones from the Sri Lankan grocer. She carefully drew a large mandala design on the back of Anna’s hand, with delicate paisley and flower patterns brushed within. Anna watched her work, wondering at her easy talent.
“It tickles, and I didn’t realize henna would feel so cold,” she said.
“Women use henna as an adornment, but it’s also a way to cool the body during hot weather,” Maryam explained, keeping her hand steady as she worked the henna applicator. “It’s basically just crushed henna leaves, ground into a paste. After the henna dries and flakes off, it will leave a beautiful dark red dye on your hands that usually lasts a couple weeks.”
The rest of the wedding party started to trickle in, and everyone admired Maryam’s handiwork. Farah settled to work on Saima’smehndidesign—Maryam explained she had always been the best among them at applying henna, with the steadiest hand. Around them, the older women chatted, nibbling on samosas and enjoying the light tea. Anna felt the warmth inside her increase. This really had all come together so well.
She watched as Maryam applied henna on Sarah, the woman who owned the Turkish coffee shop, and then listened as Maryam’s mother sang a traditional Urdu song.
“The lyrics are full of jokes teasing the bride, and making fun of her future in-laws,” Maryam explained, and Anna wished she could understand. A few other women joined in with the well-known folk songs, while other women clapped along to the beat and laughed.
“Oh, hey, I have more music!” Anna said once the singing was over. “Borrowed from Mr. Dadu!” She popped a Bollywood mix CD into the stereo and pulled Maryam up to dance to the first song, “Mehndi Hai Rachne Wali.”
When the next song—a fast-pacedbhangratune—started, all the women rose at once and started to dance, even Maryam’s mother. They pulled Saima to the middle of the space and moved to the beat around her, careful not to smear her henna, which was mostly dry by now. Anna made Maryam laugh, dancing her funny one-foot hop despite the lessons from the night before. She eventually gave up, shimmying her hips and tossing her hair instead. The next half dozen songs passed by in a blur of laughter, dancing, breaks to drink tea, followed by more dancing. After nearly an hour, the group collapsed in a heap, sprawling on the comfortable carpet or across cushions.
“How long have you known your fiancé? What’s his name again?” Anna asked, trying to catch her breath as she lay on the carpet in front of the platform where Saima sat in happy exhaustion. Maryam sat beside her, leaning against her sister. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and her cheeks were pink from dancing, and from happiness.
“His name is Miraj, and I’ve known him for just a few months,” Saima said. “I knew he was the one from the moment I saw him, though.”
Anna suddenly thought of Nick, and her heart plummeted.She sat up, fanning herself. “You’ve only known Miraj for a few months and you’re already gettingmarried?” she asked, incredulous.
Saima laughed, but Anna noticed Maryam look away. “We’re observant Muslims,” Saima explained. “We don’t date for years before moving in together. We jump straight into marriage.”
“But... what if you’re making a mistake?” Anna asked.
Saima shrugged. “Sometimes people get it wrong. Or they’re happy for a while, but not happy forever.”
Anna looked at Maryam, but she was still gazing at the floor.
“I love Miraj,” Saima continued to Anna, not seeming to notice her sister’s suddenly morose expression. “I think we’ll be really happy together. But if it doesn’t work out, we’ll just get divorced, and the world will keep turning.” Then, as if realizing what she had just said, Saima clapped a hand over her mouth. Beside them, Azizah had grown still, and a sudden embarrassed silence descended.
“Saima, we don’t talk of such things in front of guests,” Azizah said stiffly.
Anna was mystified, and beside her Maryam, looking more uncomfortable than ever, reached for her hijab. She carefully wrapped it, avoiding Anna’s frankly curious stare, and slipped beyond the dividers to the main foyer.
“Excuse me,” Anna said, following her friend.
Outside, there was so much snow. The sheer amount of powdery precipitation heaped around the inn felt overwhelming, even in the dark quiet. Maybe Saima was right and they would be stuck here all winter, Anna ruminated. She had truly never seen so much snow, and it was still falling. But the air was crisp,and the cold felt good after the delirious heat from dancing. Anna inhaled deeply and looked around in the darkness before spotting Maryam, leaning against the rough brick wall of the inn.
“I’m sorry if I sounded judgmental about your marriage customs,” she started, but Maryam shook her head.
“It’s not that. That had nothing to do with you. I’m just...” She shook her head again. “I’m sure it feels sort of strange to you, the idea of marrying someone so quickly. Before you know who they really are, or who you are together.”
“It’s not what I’m used to,” Anna said. “But I also think it’s quite hopeful. It takes a lot of courage to take that sort of plunge. I admire the faith Saima has that things will work out. I don’t have that. It’s partly why I was so unsure about Nick. I just didn’t feel sure I could take a chance. I still don’t. But maybe, with the right person...” Suddenly, Josh’s image was in her mind. She had been trying not to think of him all night, to get her feelings in perspective, to not glance at the door to the inn every time it opened, hoping it was him. It was getting late and he hadn’t shown up. For all she knew, he was somewhere with Tenisha—and had forgotten all about his suggestion that they light the menorah together. And that was fine, she told herself, turning back to Maryam.
As if reading her thoughts, Maryam cleared her throat. “Listen, about Josh,” she began. She looked lost in thought for a moment, but then her expression cleared. “Just be careful, okay? I know what I’m talking about.”
“Is that why you looked so upset earlier?” Anna asked. “It seems like something Saima said about marriage struck a chord. What’s going on, Maryam?”
Her friend sighed. “I know you wish you had a big family like I do, but sometimes, having a sister like Saima isn’t always easy. I love her with all my heart, but she has a habit of sticking her foot in her mouth, especially when she’s excited. She brought up something from my past I don’t like to talk about—it only makes everyone uncomfortable and ruins the mood.”
