Accidentally Engaged

by Farah Heron

  What? Reena stood, dumbfounded. Did she know this Vanna? But a sharp exhale from the woman behind Vanna took her attention. And sure enough, it was her own mother.

  Mum’s eyes were as wide as roti, and she held Vanna’s arm for support. “Reena! What are you doing here?”

  Leon turned to Reena. “You’re Roz’s Reena?”

  Roz?

  “Mum?” Reena closed her eyes a moment, but sure enough, after opening them, her mother still stood in front of her.

  Leon laughed. “Hey, now I have an in. Reena, convince your mother to let me in her poker group.”

  Reena nearly fell to the floor. Poker? Mum? The hell? Gambling was against Islam—Reena might not be religious, but her parents would never openly go against the tenets of their religion. Or so Reena thought.

  Mum smiled at Leon, like it was no big deal to get caught playing poker in the middle of the day. “We’ve told you, women only. How do you know my daughter?”

  Leon beamed, looking at Reena. “She’s a lovely young woman. I see why you’re proud of her. Angie and I were interviewing her for Ginny’s role.”

  “So, Ginny’s gone then? Such a shame, I hoped she’d change her mind. Imagine, enlisting in the army at her age.”

  “I know. But she said it—”

  “Excuse me,” Reena interrupted. Mum was talking so casually to Leon, but then again, she’d always had a superb poker face. And…now Reena understood where she practiced it. “Mum, can you please explain what’s going on?”

  Leon chuckled. “Ah, daughters. I should head back to the office, anyway. It was lovely to meet you, Reena. Angie will be in touch.” He shook Reena’s hand and winked. “And keep an eye on that one.” He nodded toward Mum. “Your mother’s game face can turn even a softy like me into stone. You should have seen the Vegas high rollers quiver. Bye Roz, Vanna.”

  And with that, the strangest job interview Reena had ever experienced ended, and she was left alone, with her mother, a half-eaten apricot brioche tart, and more confusion than she knew what to do with.

  * * *

  Of course, it wasn’t possible to avoid her mother now, so she had no choice but to agree to have tea with the woman before she could get out of the bakery. But after Mum got a fresh pot for them to share, she just sat in front of Reena, staring at her.

  “So, are you going to explain?” Reena finally asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “What about you? Why are you interviewing for a new job?”

  “Why are you playing poker and flirting with a bakery owner in the middle of the day?”

  “Flirting? Reena! Leon is my friend. I’ve been coming here for years.”

  “Yes, almost five, I heard. You told me it’s inappropriate for men and women to be friends. Does Dad know?” She cringed. She sounded like Nadim.

  “There is nothing inappropriate here. I’m a married woman. But why are you looking for a job? What happened to the clothes store?”

  Reena slumped in her seat. May as well go for broke and tell the truth. “I was laid off a couple of weeks ago.”

  Mum inhaled sharply through her teeth before saying a prayer under her breath. “Why didn’t you tell us? I’ll call Daddy, and you can work with him—”

  Reena put her hand up. “This is why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want to work with Dad, and I can find something new on my own.”

  “But, Reena! This is the third time you’ve lost your job! You need a new—”

  “I’ll find one! I just had an interview with your poker buddy, remember? And since when do you play high-stakes poker?”

  Mum waved her hand at Reena. “It’s not high stakes. We play with small change.”

  “But it’s gambling!”

  Mum just waved her hand. “Your father doesn’t know everything I do.”

  Reena shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. “It’s against Islam.” Which, Reena accepted, didn’t mean much coming from her.

  “I know. But it’s small money, and when I win I always donate it to charity. It’s just fun, Reena. Giovanna convinced me to come years ago, and I enjoy it.”

  That’s who Vanna was. Giovanna Pelozzi was the little Italian lady across the street from her parents. Reena didn’t remember her having purple hair. The realization didn’t do much to make this whole situation make sense.

  “So Dad doesn’t know?”

  “No.” Mum sighed. “I am not playing to win or lose, only to enjoy time with my friends. It exercises my brain. I’m at peace with my choice to play, but I know your father wouldn’t understand.”

  Reena closed her eyes, blowing her hair out of her face. She’d known her family kept secrets, and she’d known they were a little…well…odd, but this took the cake. Her aging, Muslim mother playing in a ladies’ poker league? What would come next, news that her father had secret tattoos?

  She peered again at her mother’s face. Calm. Stoic. Small purse to her lips and narrowing to her eyes, but no betrayal whatsoever that she was ruffled about getting caught. Reena couldn’t help it, she snort-laughed. It was actually perfect. Who would have a better poker face than someone who never revealed her true self, ever?

  Reena stood. “This has been…educational, but I need to go. Can I assume we have an agreement? I’ll keep hush about your secret card shark life, and you let me continue my job search without letting Dad know.”

  “Reena, I’m your mother. You can’t—”

  “Mum, please. Just let me try to deal with this. If I need help, I’ll come to you. But trust me to live the way I choose.”

  Unexpectedly, Mum stood and hugged Reena tightly. “Of course I trust you.” She released Reena and held her arms. “We love you and want to help you. All we want is for the family to be successful.”

  The family to be successful. Not happy, successful. And not Reena, individually, but the family.

  Actual success or the illusion of it?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The next day, Nadim left work early for the drive to Amira and Duncan’s. On the way, Reena attempted to warn him about them. She adored her friends, but for most other people, they were acquired tastes.

  “Just to let you know, Amira and Duncan are…a lot.”

  He laughed. “A lot what? I’d figured they would be unusual if they are your closest friends.”

  “Yes, yes.” She waved her hand while watching the road in front of her. “I know you think I’m weird, but you’re the one who brought a sourdough starter for a weekend in the country.”

  “You know Al doesn’t like to miss feedings. Anyway, what’s wrong with your friends?”

  She merged into the highway traffic. “Nothing wrong with them, Amira’s just a bit…blunt. She’s an engineer and kind of…cerebral at times. She won’t put up with anyone’s crap—ever. Watch yourself for anything even remotely sexist or racist.”

  He chuckled. “What about Duncan?”

  “He’s her opposite. He’s a musician and a little eccentric, but easygoing. He teaches high school music and guitar at a private music school. And he sings in an a cappella group. He looks like a lumberjack. Expect a great deal of plaid flannel.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” he said, pointing to the flannel he was wearing. Nadim’s style had changed so gradually that she barely noticed that he’d almost completely transformed from bougie douche to Brooklyn hipster in the last few weeks.

  “And Doug and Shirley, Duncan’s parents, may ask you a lot of questions. They are coming to terms with having a Muslim in the family and are…annoyingly curious.”

  Now Nadim really laughed. “Okay, I cannot wait to meet them. They accept your friend, though?”

  “Yeah, actually. Everyone expected the worst because they were so conservative, but they adore Amira. Duncan’s brother is a racist dick, though, so it hasn’t been a complete cakewalk, but all things considered…”

  “I guess it’s easier to date within your own culture.”

  Reena shrugged noncommittally, but
she disagreed. Maybe for others dating within their own culture was easier, but for her? No. Dating from within meant family expectations were higher. Parents intruded more. Were involved more. After all, here Nadim and Reena were, apparently “dating within their own culture,” and neither had the balls to tell their parents about the relationship. This was hardly easier.

  She finally pulled into the long gravel driveway of Amira and Duncan’s country house to see them on their porch couch, both in jeans and flannel shirts. Reena squeezed her lips shut so as not to laugh at how frickin’ adorable her best friend had become.

  “Watching the sunset over the river,” Duncan said, standing as Nadim and Reena approached. Duncan’s eyes narrowed as he made his way toward them in his trademark Duncan-strut and gave Nadim a blatant once-over before crossing his arms in front of him with menace. With the low evening light illuminating his angry eyes and red beard, he looked like a fire Djinn appraising his foe. “Duncan Galahad,” he drawled. “I gather you’re this Nadim we’ve been hearing about?”

  Reena rolled her eyes as she climbed the porch steps and sat on the seat Duncan had just vacated. “Hey, Meer. Want to call off your guard dog?”

  Amira smirked as she leaned close to whisper, “Duncan doesn’t trust him.”

  They watched with fascination as Nadim stood taller and puffed his chest out before shooting his hand out for Duncan to shake. It wasn’t much use. Even if Nadim stood on his toes, Duncan would be at least three inches taller and a hell of a lot broader than him. Amira’s boyfriend was huge. “Nadim Remtulla,” Nadim said, his voice weirdly sounding deeper.

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed even more as he looked at Nadim’s outstretched hand as if it were a dead salmon.

  “Is this a glimpse of the dance for dominance among male members of the species?” Reena whispered to Amira.

  “Both fearsome, both protective,” Amira responded. “True, one alpha is clearly a more formidable opponent physically, but in this arena, brawns may not be enough to best cunning wits.”

  Reena fell over giggling.

  Duncan’s head snapped around to glare at them. “What are you girls going on about?”

  Amira smiled as she stood up. “Nothing, sweets.” She walked down the stairs, patted Duncan on the arm briefly before giving Nadim a quick hug. “I’m Amira. Reena’s my best friend in the whole world, and she deserves to be happy. Don’t fuck this up.” She patted Nadim’s shoulder reassuringly before turning and heading toward the front door. “C’mon inside. Duncan made venison chili.”

  After dinner, Duncan looked at Nadim, sizing him up again. “You look like a man who likes sports. I’m meeting some buddies to watch the CFL game at my friend’s bar. Come along.”

  Nadim looked to Reena, clearly needing her to translate CFL.

  “CFL is the Canadian Football League. Football like what North Americans call football, not soccer,” she explained.

  Nadim rolled his eyes. “You know, the rest of the world has another meaning of the word football so I don’t get—”

  “Nadim,” Reena said as sweetly as she could. “Go with Duncan. He’ll find you good beer and you can get to know each other.”

  * * *

  “Well?” Reena asked once alone with Amira.

  “He’s cute in person. Actually, really cute. I love his accent.”

  “It’s already sounding more Canadian. I caught him saying ‘for sure’ the other day, and he’s been calling kilometers ‘clicks’ for a while now.” Reena chuckled. “But is that all? Just cute?”

  Amira tilted her head a moment. Reena knew her friend—she had a strong opinion about Nadim but, for whatever reason, didn’t want to say it. Maybe to spare Reena’s feelings? “He’s affectionate. And he’s really into you.”

  “I know.” Reena smiled.

  “And you’re into him, aren’t you?”

  “It’s early, but, yeah, I am. More than I have been for anyone in a long time.” She sighed as she put her feet up on Amira’s coffee table. “I just wish it wasn’t so ridiculously complicated.”

  “Is it really, though?”

  “Of course! I mean, my parents are trying to set me up with him, and his dad’s all like…marry this good girl, and I’m hardly that. Plus, the secrets—”

  “No one can possibly know everything about a person a week into a relationship. And your parents…they seem okay with your choice not to marry him. You’re not usually one to chase drama, Ree, but are you sure you’re not finding problems that aren’t really here?”

  Reena folded her arms in front of her. First, Amira was all like, this is complicated, don’t date him, and now she was accusing Reena of seeing drama that wasn’t there? “That’s a low blow, Meer, considering your rant on Monday morning.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just…wondering out loud. I hope you aren’t using the drama as a scapegoat for why you’re keeping him at arm’s length.”

  “What? This isn’t arm’s length! I brought him here to meet you, didn’t I?”

  Amira just shrugged. “You admit you’re both keeping secrets. My question is, why is that okay for you?”

  She bit her lip. Objectively, Reena hated secrets, and in theory, yeah, it would be better if they were honest. But what could she do? They’d agreed to no strings and no past. Eventually, if this continued, Reena had every intention of letting him know about her insecurities and about her past depression. But for now, she just honestly didn’t want to talk about it. And if he also had parts of his life he wanted to keep private, that was okay, too. She absently turned away from her friend, focusing on a shelf near the fireplace. A framed picture of a multihued sunset caught her eye. Amira, walking on the riverbank, with shades of orange, purple, and red framing her long, wavy hair.

  “Duncan has a thing for sunsets.” Amira smiled, noticing Reena’s focus. “I didn’t know that until we moved here.”

  “You two looked so cute sitting out there watching it.”

  The contented smile stayed on Amira’s face as she glanced toward the porch. “I’ve never felt like this. Duncan and I have a lot of complications, too. I mean, now we have a mortgage, and he has two jobs, and I’m still dealing with sexist crap at work. Plus, his racist relatives hate that he’s with a loudmouthed Muslim activist, and my Muslim extended family judges me for shacking up with a heathen without being married. But at the end of the day, we just sit out there and watch the sun for hours.” She stood, silent for a moment, before walking over and picking up the picture. “I didn’t know it could be like this. When all that noise quiets, it’s breathtaking. So painfully honest. I’m going to be with him for the rest of my life. I know it.”

  A small tickle started behind Reena’s eyes. A beautiful sentiment, especially from her once cynical friend. She didn’t know if she had ever felt that strong a connection with anyone, let alone Nadim. And although she was happy Amira found it, a small part of her couldn’t help but be sad that Amira’s happiness took her away from Reena. She wouldn’t be Amira’s best friend anymore, not when Amira had a soul mate now.

  She inhaled, straining to stop the torrent of emotions that threatened to pull her out of the warm comfort she’d been wrapped in all day. “Sunsets are fine and all, but how about we go out there and look at the stars? Without the city lights there must be millions visible.”

  Amira smiled. “Yes, night skies here are spectacular.”

  Amira and Reena were still sitting on the porch sofa with Reena’s head on Amira’s shoulder and a large blanket over them when Duncan and Nadim returned.

  “Wow, look at that,” Duncan said with a grin. “They look like the Golden Girls after they ate the whole cheesecake.”

  Amira laughed as she scooted over to let Duncan sit next to her. Reena did the same for Nadim, who immediately took her hand. “Well, you know,” Amira said, “Reena and I were supposed to grow old together, so in about forty years I’ll be kicking your sorry ass out so she can move in.”

  Duncan chuckled. “Fair e
nough. Nadim here now understands the basics of Canadian football, so at least I won’t be lonely.”

  Nadim squeezed Reena’s hand before lifting it to kiss her fingertips. Why couldn’t she just enjoy this? She leaned into him, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his arm, watching thousands of stars light up the dark night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Doug and Shirley Galahad lived in a redbrick farmhouse on the outskirts of the tiny town of Omemee, Ontario, about fifteen minutes away from Amira and Duncan’s place. Reena smiled at the scenery unfolding before her.

  The brilliant yellows, oranges, and reds of the wooded area behind the old Victorian house, and the pale straw color of the neighboring farmer’s fields combined with the azure sky would look frickin’ awesome in their video. Shooting it here was the best idea she’d had in months.

  Nadim whistled as he got out of the truck. “Bloody hell, this place is really picturesque. You grew up here?” he asked Duncan.

  “Nah. We had a house in Omemee proper back then. They bought this place when my brother and I moved out.”

  The house was small, but cozy. With worn-wood floors and tall baseboards, it was steeped in the quaint country charm that felt so foreign to Reena but still as comforting as warm bread pudding.

  “There you are, kids!” A short, plump woman with frizzy red hair and a wide smile greeted them in the kitchen. “I thought you were coming early?”

  Duncan kissed his mother on the cheek. “It is early, Ma. It’s nine o’clock.”

  “That’s not early. I was up at seven to walk the dog. And the princesses were bleating and hopping all morning. Exhausting.” Shirley reached up and patted Duncan’s shoulder before hugging Amira, then Reena. She looked to Nadim. “Welcome to our home. I’m Shirley Galahad.”

  “I’m Nadim. Thank you for letting us film here. I’m sure the scenery will be amazing.”

  “Oh!” Shirley said. “You have an accent! Are you from England?”