Soraya rushed to the window, then clapped her hands like a little girl.
“If the accumulation amounts to anything, we can go out and play in the snow. We’ll build a snowman, and you can send a picture to your brother. Let’s just hope we get enough, and we actually get to do it before we have to leave for the Christmas party. This is the one night of the year where all us girls get to go slinky and glittery, the more bling the better. New Year’s Eve pales in comparison to the casino’s Christmas party. This is also the night when they give out the Christmas bonuses. Management has always been very generous in the past with us, so let’s hope this year they are just as generous.”
Soraya clapped her hands again. She raised her eyes upward. “Please, let it all be what I want it to be,” she said under her breath.
“Well, then, let’s get this show on the road,” Trish said as she headed for the second floor to get ready for whatever the day held in store for her.
It was snowing when Trish and Soraya watched the driver load the bags and trunks into the minivan and the limo that would take them to the airport. Trish shivered inside her shearling jacket. She struggled against the wind, drawing the collar of the jacket against her cheeks. Soraya laughed as she tried to catch the snowflakes. Trish smiled when she saw the delicate white flakes coat Soraya’s eyelashes.
“Before you know it, we’ll both be swimming in warm water, wearing sundresses, and preparing for your wedding. I am so excited. Are you excited, Trish?”
Trish could barely hear her over the howling wind. She had turned so she could get one last look at her town house, at the place where she’d gone without, struggled to pay for her home all these years. Tears puddled in her eyes. She knew her home would be well taken care of by her friend. What she hadn’t counted on and was still a bit peeved about, and a bit overwhelmed by at the same time, was Malik’s Christmas gift, which had arrived on Christmas Eve morning courtesy of FedEx. Inside the padded envelope was the deed to her town house; Malik had paid off the mortgage, and she owned the building free and clear. Just for a little while, she’d felt intruded upon, that her life had been invaded. She knew Malik meant well, but it was a thorn in her side, and she knew that even though she’d tried to gush and thank him, her words didn’t ring true. And Malik, very sensitive to her attitudes, had called her on it. In the end, she had confessed to how she felt, and he, in turn, had become subdued. They’d talked long into the night, and when she broke the connection, she felt okay with what he’d done.
Right now, though, she felt like she was saying good-bye to someone else’s home. She shrugged inside her heavy jacket. She’d get over it in time.
Two hours later, they were airborne. The last call she’d made before boarding was to her sister, to tell her how much she loved her and would miss her. It was Soraya who had called Malik to say that they were boarding.
Once the private plane climbed to cruising altitude, Soraya unbuckled her seat belt and danced her way up and down the aisle before sitting back down. “Let’s talk, Trish. The last few days have been so wild and hectic, I don’t even know where to start.”
Trish smiled. Her thoughts were, for some reason, on her sister and the tone in her voice when she’d called to say one last good-bye. According to Emma, she was just hanging. The Realtor for whom she worked had closed the office till after the New Year. The three new friends she’d met in group therapy had returned to work, and she was left to fend for herself. She’d jokingly said she was going to clean out her closets, take a walk or two in the snow, return a few Christmas gifts, sleep, and cook some food and freeze it for the nights when she worked late. For some reason, all of that had brought tears to Trish’s eyes. She hadn’t wanted to ask, but she did, anyway, wanting to know if Missy had called on Christmas. She was told no, and the subject was dropped. Ungrateful little brat.
Trish shook herself out of her reverie when Soraya poked her arm. “Earth to Trish!”
“I was just thinking about how sad my sister sounded. What do you want to talk about, Soraya?”
“Everything. Just absolutely everything. Malik laughed himself silly when he saw the picture of the snowman we made. He said he’s going to frame it and put it in his cave, along with the pictures of you and me in costume. I just loved that whole experience. I loved the Christmas party and how glamorous everyone looked and how nice and friendly everyone was to me. Drinking champagne till three in the morning is something I won’t soon forget.”
“Neither will Ernie. How many times did you kiss him that night?”
“Seven!” Soraya said smartly. “I was honest with him and told him I was practicing on him, and he took it very well. I think on my return I will feel confident enough to kiss Rashid and . . . How do you say it? Blow his socks off. Ernie said he loved being kissed by a real-live princess.”
“And did you also tell this to your brother?” Trish asked slyly.
“I did not! That’s a girl secret. Christmas Eve and church was lovely. Christmas Day was just as lovely, with that wonderful dinner you cooked. I so enjoyed opening the presents and everyone laughing and smiling. You have delightful friends, Trish, who love you very much. They are going to miss you. Tell me, what did you think of Malik’s Christmas gift to you? He must have called me a dozen times to see if I would change what I described as your reaction.”
“It was very thoughtful and kind of him to do that.”
“But . . .”
“Girl secret?”
“Absolutely.”
Trish explained her feelings about the gift.
“I understand. Now, if you had told me that back in Dubai, before I came here, I would not have understood. Malik should have known better. He spent more time here than I did and has a better understanding of the way you do things. Can you forgive him for what he’s done?”
“Of course. It is no longer important. It is—”
“What it is. Your favorite saying,” Soraya said, finishing Trish’s statement.
In spite of herself, Trish laughed.
“Let’s talk about your wedding dresses. How lucky you are that you get to choose two and you will have two ceremonies. Malik said in his last e-mail that the palace seamstresses are just waiting for you with their designs, their bolts of fabric, and their needles. I can’t wait to find out what you choose. And you are to choose my dress also. I want something . . .”
“That will blow Rashid’s socks off. Yes, I know.”
The two women settled down to talk seriously about Islamic weddings, the protocol, and what was expected.
They talked for hours, until Trish’s eyes started to droop. The last thing she heard was Soraya telling her that the groom in an Islamic wedding gave the bride a gift of money or jewelry. The bride did not give the groom a gift, but in a Christian wedding the bride could gift her new husband. “So that’s when you give Malik the rattletrap, at your Christian wedding.” Then Soraya’s eyes, too, closed.
Neither woman woke until the plane was ready to make its descent into Dubai International Airport, the older of the emirate’s two airports.
Chapter 10
TRISH CRANED HER NECK TO LOOK OUT THE WINDOW OF THE private plane. She smiled from ear to ear when she saw Malik in his white robe, Rashid next to him. “They’re here!” she squealed in happiness. Soraya clapped her hands.
When the plane finally came to a dead stop, both women unbuckled their seat belts and were at the front of the plane in a nanosecond. The moment the door opened and the portable stairway was in place, Trish almost flew down the steps and into Malik’s arms. He held her close and swung her around before he kissed her until she gasped for breath.
Out of the corner of her eye Trish saw Soraya advance toward Rashid. In the blink of an eye her lips were on Rashid’s. Malik started to move in his sister’s direction. Trish pulled him back. “She’s practicing, Malik. She’s in love with him. Let them be.”
“But . . . but . . . ,” he sputtered. In the end, he capitulated and only
shot his sister a look of disapproval, which she totally ignored.
Rashid, his face flaming, was unable to look at Malik. Finally, Malik took pity on his second in command and laughed out loud. “She’s all yours, Rashid. Now she is your responsibility. What? What? Did the cat swallow your tongue, brother?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Malik?” Rashid hissed as he held the door open for Trish and Malik.
“Actually, Rashid, I am.” Malik grinned like the cat who had caught the canary.
“I’ll sit in the front with Rashid,” Soraya said sweetly.
“No, you won’t,” Rashid grumbled. “It is not seemly. Malik . . . ?”
Malik was otherwise occupied with kissing Trish. He waved his hand to show that Rashid was on his own. Soraya giggled. Rashid pretended to glower, and Malik and Trish continued with what they were doing.
Day one of Trish’s homecoming. As far as she was concerned, nothing could have been more perfect.
The minute Malik dropped Trish and Soraya off at the palace, they were surrounded by chattering women, who quickly spirited them away to what Soraya said was the room where the wedding preparations would begin for both of them.
They spent hours picking and choosing materials, threads, and ornate trim. Needles and scissors flashed as the ladies stripped down both women to take measurements.
“It is so hard to choose. I have never seen such beautiful fabrics,” Trish wailed. “How am I to choose?”
“Close your eyes, twirl around, and then just point.” Soraya laughed. “I cannot choose my fabric until you make your choice. Remember, we have just two weeks until your wedding day. Tomorrow we will go into town so you can choose your Christian wedding gown. Two weeks is not much time, Trish.”
Trish started to wail again as she contemplated the gorgeous materials laid out in front of her. She knew from all the reading she’d done that red was the color of choice for most Muslim weddings. She took a deep breath and pointed to an absolutely breathtaking red bolt of cloth that was shot through with gold threads. She looked at Soraya, and the ladies huddled together. She pointed her index finger at a luscious strawberry-red bolt of sheer material. A shout of approval went up, which told Trish she had made the right choice. Soraya chose gold fabric shot through with silver threads.
Hours later, they broke for a late lunch, during which the two women chattered and laughed like teenagers. They complimented one another endlessly until, as Trish put it, they got down to the good stuff. The good stuff meaning Soraya breaking Muslim protocol by kissing Rashid.
“Don’t you get it, Trish? Now he has to make an honest woman of me. I am so glad Ernie let me practice kissing him. Now Rashid knows what to expect. I did good, didn’t I?” she asked anxiously.
Trish choked on a date she was munching. “I think it’s safe to say you blew his socks off. Your brother’s as well.”
Soraya just laughed and laughed.
The following day was more of the same when the two women were taken to an exclusive bridal shop in the heart of Dubai, where Trish had to close her eyes, twirl, and point to a gorgeous Vera Wang creation that looked like it was made especially for her. It fit so perfectly, there was no need for alterations. She chose a veil of dotted swiss that was softer than a baby’s cheek.
“Malik is going to be over the moon when he sees you in this dress, Trish. Not that the red one isn’t going to be gorgeous. It will be, but everyone wears the same thing. It’s actually boring. This says it all,” she said, pointing to the Vera Wang. Trish agreed with her 100 percent.
Trish looked at the price tag on the gown and almost fainted. “Oh, my God, Soraya, I can’t afford this. It’s twenty thousand dollars. We have to go somewhere else.”
“Oh, you silly girl, this has all been taken care of. Don’t fret, Trish. It is our way. Please, don’t fight Malik on this. He’s trying to please you.”
Trish thought about the paid mortgage on her town house back in Vegas and winced. She felt as if a dark cloud had suddenly formed overhead. She looked down at the price tag on the Louboutin shoes—twelve hundred dollars. Soraya bought four pair. The cloud overhead got darker.
Trish stopped and looked down at her cell, where a text was coming in from Malik. It read, Hot dogs at seven in the cave?
Trish’s response read, You got it.
Life was beyond wonderful. Well, almost.
On the ride back to the palace, Soraya was busy on her BlackBerry. “It seems that only Zack will be able to make the wedding. Possibly Tobias and Max. Things can change on a dime, he said. Malik does not know this. It is to be a surprise. Oh, one other thing, the car should be in port in three days. I must talk with Rashid about where to have it taken and how to hide it. I don’t know if he can keep a secret of this magnitude. I might have to kiss him some more.”
“That sounds like a plan, Soraya. I must say, you are devious. Were you always like that, or are you going to say you learned that in the States?”
“Half and half. You must be relieved that the car is finally going to get here.”
“I am. I didn’t know you had invited Malik’s friends to the wedding. I’m sure he will be pleased if they can make it. I look forward to meeting them. Zack was so helpful with the car part of things.”
“Do you know the story of Zack and Malik’s friendship?”
“I guess I don’t. I just assumed they were roommates and grew close over the years.”
“Yes, that is true. Zack always took Malik home with him for holidays. He has a big family, and they have a huge farm. Zack is the only one in the family who went to college. The other children chose to stay home and work their farm with their father. Malik and Zack worked the farm with the others during summer vacations. Malik loved riding the tractors and baling the hay and all that.
“Zack’s father had a really bad accident, and Malik was with him. He knew what to do and had a medical team there within minutes, and they airlifted Zack’s father to a special hospital, where surgery was performed, and they were able to save his legs. Malik saved his life. He paid all the medical bills, and, you know Malik, he paid off the farm but made the parents swear never to tell Zack. He set up scholarship funds for Zack’s nephews and nieces, because Malik knows how important education is. Zack doesn’t know that, either.
“Nor do any of his other friends know what he’s done for them anonymously. My father told me all of this. Malik doesn’t even know I know, and you must not let on that you know, either. My father was so proud of Malik. He has such a big heart. He lives to give to others. So, do you understand about him paying off your town house, and all the rest?
“Trish, you have no idea how much good Malik does for the migrant workers here in Dubai. He does it anonymously. He helps the expats, too. Again, anonymously. Before we left for the States, I asked him if he would help me get involved in women’s rights issues, and he agreed. I took the liberty of telling him that you and I would be working on those issues on our return. After the wedding, of course. So, that’s something else he’s willing to do for you. But you must say nothing unless he mentions it to you first.”
Trish digested the information Soraya divulged and tried to put her betrothed’s generosity out of her mind. She loved Malik, so she had to learn to accept his ways in this new world she’d suddenly become a part of.
Either you loved unconditionally or you didn’t love at all.
And she loved.
The day finally arrived.
The palace buzzed and hummed with activity.
It seemed to Trish that the entire populace of Dubai had turned out for the wedding of Sheik Malik bin Al Mohammed.
Seated front row and center were Malik’s nine friends from the States. Soraya had confided two days before the wedding that Rashid had made all the arrangements for the guests as his personal wedding gift to Malik. Trish almost burst out laughing when she saw Malik’s reaction when he spotted his friends. She thought for one wild moment he would break with traditi
on and rush at them. Instead, he grinned from ear to ear and gave a thumbs-up.
From there on in, it was all a blur to Trish. She knew that later she would be able to watch the video of her wedding. All she knew was that she was married to the most wonderful man in the world, whom she loved more than life itself, and she had the wedding ring to prove it. She was now officially Mrs. Malik bin Al Mohammed. She didn’t know if she was a princess, a royal highness, a shaykhah—pronounced “cha cha”—or something else, and she didn’t care.
When the wedding was over, and the bride and groom left the festivities, it was Rashid and Soraya’s job to entertain the American friends, which they did till all hours of the night.
The Christian wedding was to take place the following day, with a candlelight ceremony at sundown.
It was a small private wedding in the church of Trish’s choosing. She loved it when she got to walk down the aisle and saw Malik waiting for her. Even from the back of the church, she heard his gasp of approval.
Over and over, under her breath, she kept repeating, “Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Please, always let me be as happy as I am at this moment.”
All through the wedding dinner at the Burj Khalifa, or Khalifa Tower, a 2,716-foot-high hotel that had cost $650 million to build, Trish was so nervous and fidgety, Rashid finally took pity on her. He tapped his spoon against the glass in front of him for silence. When he had everyone’s attention, he looked around the wedding table, his gaze finally settling on Malik. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, the bride wishes to present her new husband with a wedding gift. A gift from the heart, I might add.”
What followed was a lot of hooting and hollering, with Malik’s friends doing it along with Soraya, who had magically in the past few days learned to whistle between her teeth, thanks to Tobias, who, with the patience of a saint, had taught her.
A Family Affair Page 10
