by Lora Inak
***
‘Girls. Please hurry. We’re running late,’ Baba called from the front door.
Natalie slipped her heels on, grabbed her clutch and hurried out of her room.
‘Natalie, help,’ Misha wailed.
She crossed the hall and flung open her sister’s bedroom door. Twisted to one side, Misha wrestled with the zip of her dress.
‘I’m so FAT.’
‘Okay. Before you freak out, just remember that you bought this dress a week ago, so you could not have gained that much weight.’
Natalie took hold of the zipper and tugged. It stuck. Maybe Misha had gained a few kilos. She tugged and tugged until the zipper finally gave way.
‘Thanks.’ Misha massaged her arm. ‘Starting tomorrow, I’m on a strict diet.’
‘Yeah right!’ Her sister never actually went on any diets. Like their father, she loved food too much and exercise not much at all. ‘Are you getting pins and needles again?’
‘Just a bit. I think it’s ’cause the dress is so tight.’ Misha spun in front of her full-length mirror, the sequins on her dress catching the light. ‘Do I look okay?’
With her rosy cheeks, soft mouth and big brown eyes no one could deny her sister was beautiful.
‘When Azeem sees you, he’ll fall to his knees and beg you to marry him.’
Misha coloured. ‘Shut up about him. He’s causing me enough problems with his phone calls and gifts, and forcing me to dance with him.’
But the tone of her voice made it clear she wasn’t actually complaining.
‘Girls,’ Mama called up. ‘If you don’t get into the car in the next two minutes, we’re leaving without you.’
In the car, as Natalie clipped in her seat belt, she noticed Mama place her hand gently on Baba’s thigh. Everything was good at the moment. Heading in the right direction. Misha’s doctor had told her there was nothing wrong with her eyes and that the incident in the car was either a migraine or a temporary stress related incident. He gave her a referral to see an Ophthalmologist just in case. She was friends with Chris again, and even things with Katelyn were improving.
Misha nudged her and whispered, ‘Azeem just texted me.’
‘What about?’
‘He’s reminding me about our dance.’ She shook her head and huffed. ‘He’s so annoying.’
Natalie had received a text from Chris too, but of course, she couldn’t tell Misha about that. The thought of it made her smile. He’d asked her to send him a selfie after she was dressed for the wedding. His response had been: ‘Ggggrrrrrrr ’.
‘Okay, beautiful ladies,’ Baba said, parking the car an hour later. ‘Here we are.’
They filed into the church behind dozens of others. For weddings and funerals, men and women didn’t have to sit apart, so Baba sat with them. Juliette waved from a few rows in front, and Natalie spied Azeem across the aisle with a girl she suspected was his sister. They had the same almond-shaped eyes.
The guests stood as Father Ashram came to the pulpit. He motioned for the organ player to start the wedding music. Five bridesmaids in pastel pink gowns and a rosy-cheeked flower girl walked down the aisle, followed by Selena with her arm knotted into her father’s. A veil covered her, but Natalie could still see the nervous panic on her face. Shouldn’t a bride be beaming? Was it the thought of marriage, or knowing that tonight she would lose her virginity? Natalie peeked across at her parents. Mama leaned in and whispered into Baba’s ear. Baba smiled and laid his hand on her shoulder. They seemed happy enough. It was probably the sex that had Selena worried. Girls in their community weren’t really taught about sex by their parents. It was this taboo topic that was avoided until the girl was pretty much engaged. Mostly they learned about the ins and outs of sex at school, or through friends.
The marriage ceremony lasted about two hours. There was a short sermon, an exchanging of rings, prayers and then a long procession out the door where every single person stopped and congratulated the bride, groom, bridesmaids, groomsmen and parents of the married couple. Natalie’s feet were sore by the time she finally made it to the courtyard.
‘Loved the dress,’ Juliette announced, swanning over. ‘Did you see the second bridesmaid? She had lipstick smeared all over her front teeth. That’s not gonna look good on the DVD. And why is Alya wearing a cream-coloured dress? Firstly, it’s a total wedding no-no, and secondly, it makes her look so fat.’
‘Do you ever say anything nice about anyone?’ Natalie couldn’t help herself. Juliette was starting to get on her nerves, especially since she’d overheard her whispering to a group of girls last Sunday. She would have bet every dollar she had that Juliette was telling them about what had happened to Misha.
‘I said I loved the wedding dress, didn’t I?’ Juliette scowled. She turned to Misha. ‘You are sexy hot right now.’
‘Thanks Jules. You too.’
Sometimes Natalie wished her sister wasn’t so damn superficial.
They watched the photographer take snaps of the bridal party before piling back into the car and heading to the reception.
The reception centre was huge, gaudy and studded with lights. Inside, linen-covered tables clustered around a polished parquetry dance floor, and every chair was adorned with a pink bow. In the centre of each table was a silver candelabrum, surrounded by platters of dips, cold meats, olives, cheeses and baskets of bread.
They took their seats. Misha squealed when Juliette and her family joined them.
‘We are gonna have so much FUN.’ Juliette clutched Misha’s hand and shook it about.
Slowly, all four hundred guests took their seats, filled their glasses and tucked into the mezze. The buzz in the room grew louder and louder as the guests ate and laughed and caught up with each other.
‘This dip has way too much garlic,’ Juliette said, her mouth full of bread.
‘Don’t eat it then.’ Natalie thought the dip was really delicious.
‘I’m on a diet, so I’ll just wait for the meat.’ Misha greedily eyed the warm wedges of Lebanese bread.
A middle-aged man in a suit walked out onto the centre of the dance floor, a microphone in hand. A hush fell over the room.
‘Ladies. Gentleman. Guests. Please be standing,’ he roared into the microphone.
There was a loud drum roll. Everyone stood, heads turned to the entrance of the reception centre. Natalie’s heart thundered in her chest, a big smile plastered on her face. The lights, the colour, the music. All the sequined dresses and gaudy ties. She loved community weddings.
One by one, the MC introduced the bridal party, each entering as their names were called to loud applause, before seating themselves at the bridal table located at the head of the dance floor.
‘And now …’ he thundered, his voice reaching a crescendo. ‘Introducing … Mr and Mrs Elbaz.’
As the crowd erupted, Selena and Nazir entered the reception centre hand in hand, strutting across the dance floor and waving to their family and friends.
The couple cut their four-tiered wedding cake, before Nazir led Selena onto the dance floor for their first dance. The bridal party followed, and then anyone else who wanted to dance. Baba graciously asked Mama, and beaming from ear to ear, she accepted.
She noticed Misha scanning the room and then checking her phone.
‘Expecting a text?’ Natalie smiled, eyebrows raised.
‘No. And shut up.’ Misha dumped her phone into her bag and kicked it under the table. She shoved a piece of bread in her mouth.
The slow music ended and meals were served. The smell of spiced lamb and chicken made Natalie’s mouth water. The band set up on stage, and within minutes, the dance floor was heaving. It was so full that finding an empty spot was almost impossible, but Natalie, Misha, Mama, Aunty Jasmina, Alina, Juliette, Juliette’s mother and younger brother Rashid managed to squeeze in
and make themselves a little spot right in the centre. Alya found them there and joined in. They clicked their fingers and twisted their hips. Mama was in fine form, twirling seductively in her busty red dress, back to back with Aunty Jasmina.
Natalie suddenly thought of Chris. How would he react to a wedding like this? Loud, bright, insane—a mess of women in bright dresses clapping their hands and gyrating their hips to the music. Men waving hankies and leading a snake-like procession of dancers around the room, stomping on the floor and kicking up their legs to the beat.
He’d freak out. He’d been to maybe one or two weddings in his life. From what she knew about him, he lived a quiet, fuss-free life. It was just he and his dad. His mother and sister lived in Perth. His father was at work a lot. He didn’t have dozens of aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins and people who weren’t cousins but called themselves cousins coming over all the time. Natalie could only imagine a life like that. It seemed so far removed from hers. She had to admit, it seemed lonely.
Her feet throbbed. Sweat dripped off her forehead, down her face and into her cleavage. ‘I’m taking a toilet break,’ she yelled to Alya over the noise. She needed to cool off and get some air. Mama came with her.
They threaded through the crowd, and arm in arm, they entered the female toilets before separating into the vacant stalls. The floor was wet and the seat was chipped and dirty, so Natalie laid toilet paper over it like Mama had showed her when she was a little girl.
The door opened and high heels click-clacked in.
‘Look at me,’ one woman said. ‘I’m covered in sweat.’
Natalie knew that voice. It was Munirah who owned a dress shop in the western suburbs. Mama went there to buy clothes imported from Syria.
‘Here take my hankie,’ a woman with a thick accent replied. That was Lamya, Munirah’s sister-in-law.
‘How much money are you pinning onto the bride?’ A third woman said. Natalie didn’t recognise her.
‘Fifty dollars. You?’
‘Maybe one hundred dollars. But we bought the bride a diamond pendant as a gift, so maybe only fifty dollars.’
‘Did you see that diamond ring on Marina’s finger? It must be worth at least twenty thousand dollars,’ Munirah said. ‘Ah, to be rich.’
‘I don’t know how Marina and Abdul get richer and richer,’ Lamya added.
‘Being a loan shark. Just ask Selim,’ the third woman giggled. ‘Did you see Selma? She’s dressed like a twenty-year-old. Really, if I were her, I wouldn’t have the face to be seen, let alone wear a tight red dress like that. Is she trying to upstage the bride?’
Natalie’s throat tightened. What should she do? Stay still until the women left? But they were waiting to use the toilet, so she had to come out sooner or later. Her heart thumped. If Mama was really angry, there’d be a scene. Please, God, don’t let there be a scene. Maybe Mama hadn’t heard. No, of course she had. How could she not?
The toilet next to hers flushed. Mama unlocked the door. Natalie quickly did the same. She might be able to diffuse the showdown.
‘Oh!’ Lamya’s face blazed crimson, an ugly combination with her green silk dress.
Munirah put her hand on Mama’s shoulder. ‘Selma, listen …’
She shrugged it off, her eyes locked with the third woman’s. Mama’s foe stood pinned to the spot, her crocheted black cardigan tight across her meaty shoulders. Her black eyes darting from Mama to Munirah to Lamya.
Natalie grabbed her mother’s shaking hand. ‘Let’s go, Mama, okay. Please. Let’s go.’ She tugged on her arm.
Mama ripped her hand away and pointed right at the third woman’s face, her entire body rigid with fury. ‘YOU. You are a small, small person. You are ignorant. You speak without knowing anything.’
She turned and glared at the other two women before tearing open the door and storming out.
It could have been worse. Mama had definitely kept a lid on it, but Natalie knew it wouldn’t end there.
She scurried behind her. ‘Mama. Listen.’
Back at the table, her mother grabbed a wine glass and filled it to the brim. She guzzled it down and then refilled it. ‘Where’s my handbag?’ she barked.
Natalie ducked under the table and found it. She handed it to her, pleading: ‘Mama, that lady is an idiot. Who cares what she says.’
Mama found her cigarettes and lit one, barely looking at her.
‘Who cares what any of them think? They’re just jealous,’ Natalie begged. ‘Don’t even pay them any attention.’
Mama took long drags of her cigarette and devoured another glass of wine. ‘Leave me. Go dance with your sister.’ Mama shooed her off.
‘But …’
‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘I … Mama …’ She desperately searched for the magic words that would help, but she found none.
Mama turned to her, shoulders slumped. ‘I don’t care about those women. I’m sick of them. They’re all the same. They don’t look out their front doors. They don’t want to see. They are small women with small lives who gossip because it makes them feel important.’ She stared at the crowded dance floor, her eyes far away. ‘Like me. I’m small too. The only difference is, I see, but I stay where I am. Always in the same place, doing the same thing, seeing the same people.’
Natalie gasped. What was going on here? Her mother was happy. Wasn’t she? She was always laughing and smiling. She had her black moods, but didn’t all parents?
Mama’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Go dance with your sister. Don’t speak of this to anyone.’
Natalie left the table and joined Alya, Misha and Juliette on the dance floor, but the joy was gone. Juliette kept quacking at her about ‘turning her frown upside down’, or some stupid thing like that.
The next hour passed in a blur; the only highlight was seeing Azeem corner her sister on the dance floor and cash in on her promise. Misha rolled her eyes, reluctantly agreeing to dance with him, but Natalie noticed the colour in Misha’s cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. Natalie was supposed to dance with them too, but instead, she led a horrified Juliette away on the pretext that she had something personal she wanted to speak to her about. It was the only way she could give Azeem time with Misha without Juliette making them uncomfortable.
The dance floor was so packed; Baba would never notice anyway. It was impossible to tell who was dancing with whom.
When she got Juliette outside, she just rehashed the lie about Katelyn’s parents breaking up, and how suicidal Katelyn was, and blah, blah, blah. That was enough to get Juliette interested. Every time Juliette wanted to go back inside, she just blocked her way and insisted she advise her on what to do about Katelyn.
Juliette finally had enough and broke free, darting back into the reception centre. Natalie had done her best. Kept Juliette busy for at least twenty minutes, enough time for Azeem and Misha to connect—she hoped.
‘Natalie,’ Baba called out. He was standing by the exit. ‘Come, come. We have to leave.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Go get Misha. Mama isn’t feeling well.’
‘Oh.’ There was no need to ask why. She already knew. ‘Where is she?’
‘In the car. She refuses to come back inside.’
Chapter 13
‘Mama drinks too much,’ Misha blurted in the car on the way to church the next morning.
‘Everyone drinks too much at weddings,’ Natalie said.
Mama had refused to come, insisting she had a terrible migraine from the poor quality wine at the wedding.
‘I’ve got a headache too,’ Baba added. ‘Not just from the wine, but from the Arak, and the music too. That bass drummer was so loud I felt my brain shake in my head.’ He chuckled, his belly jumping like jelly under his striped shirt.
Natalie’s stomach churned, but it wasn’t from the wine. S
he was worried about running into Munirah and Lamya, and nervous about seeing Chris at the movies later that night.
They soon arrived, took their seats and for the next hour and a half, Father Ashram preached about abstinence and purity of the body and spirit. Natalie thought about the way she’d kissed Chris at the park. Was she still pure after doing that? Was it just having sex that made you impure?
‘Azeem’s not here,’ Misha whispered.
‘What?’ Misha never spoke during service. She said it was disrespectful. ‘He doesn’t usually come to our church.’
‘I know. But he said he would today.’
‘Sssshhhh.’ Someone behind them hissed.
Misha flushed. She kept her mouth shut for the rest of the service, but as soon as they were out in the courtyard, she turned to Natalie. ‘Do you think he didn’t come because of what happened last night?’
For a sickening moment, Natalie thought Azeem must have heard about Mama and the incident in the toilets. Were people gossiping about that already? She peered around. No one seemed to be looking over and whispering.
‘What do you mean?’
‘He tried to hold my hand when we were dancing and I told him not to. Do you think he’s upset with me?’
Natalie almost laughed. ‘I don’t know. Did he seem upset?’
‘Not really. He held my hand for a bit anyway.’ Misha rolled her eyes. ‘He’s so annoying.’
‘Then why do you care if he’s upset with you?’
‘Sssh. Here comes Juliette.’
‘God, I’m so tired.’ Juliette leaned her head on Misha’s shoulder. ‘Can’t wait to get home and jump back into bed. Did you guys have fun last night?’
They both nodded.
‘The food was pretty crap, but the music rocked. Hey, Mish, what’s with that Azeem guy? Did you really have to dance with him?’
‘Ah, yeah. Well, you know. It would have been rude if I didn’t.’
‘He’s like totally in love with you. You’ll have to get rid of him.’
Misha looked down at her feet. ‘I was just being nice.’
