My mother and I usually never went shopping in Kuwait. We’d usually do our shopping abroad or online.
We left Chanel in Avenues, after I got myself two pairs of everyday heels since she thought the ones I had were in desperate need of replacement.
“We don’t need to go to Hermes; just wait until France,” she said, walking out of Prestige to go to a cafe nearby. I couldn’t remember the last time I went to a mall.
“Okay,” I said. The twins would be alone for a month, but they’ll be sleeping at one of my aunts’ house.
“Will Baba be coming back?” I asked.
“Not until you and Razzaq stop by Germany. He has some business to finish,” she said. “He refused to have the engagement announced before he was back. Talal’s mother is panicking because she thinks everyone knows already.”
My breath shallowed. Well, at least the decision to not announce yet came from my father this time.
However, did people really know?
The breakup would be nasty. Terrible, actually.
“Oh,” I could only say.
“That cafe looks promising,” she said, pointing to a decent looking cafe. It was decent because we spotted a few tables with people who looked like us, dressed almost as well as we did. Upon further notice I realized Fajer was sitting at the table with her friends, one of them being Maha, but they don’t pay us attention. Maha was stunning, as usual, with her hair in a bun, showing off her delicate features. I prayed my mother didn't notice her; I wouldn't hear the end of the comparisons.
We sat at an empty table at the end of the cafe, but I saw Fajer walk to our table. She must've spotted us.
“Hi, Auntie Lamees,” she told my mother, who clumsily stood up to greet her.
“Hi, Fajer, honey, how are you?” my mother asked her.
“I’m good, thank you, and you?” Fajer replied before turning to me. Her table of friends were oblivious to us, still drinking their coffees.
“So, did you start working yet?” my mother asked her seeing that she’s the same age as Razzaq.
“Yeah, with my uncle Bader. I started a month ago after a break,” she said with a shy chuckle.
“All the best, habeebti. Say hello to your parents for me,” my mother said.
“She’s obviously engaged,” my mother whispered to me once Fajer walked back to her table and was out of earshot. “She has that glow.”
Did I have that glow, too? I didn’t think so.
Speaking of relationships, I couldn’t tell my mother the truth about Jude’s husband. He was obviously not serious about Sara and was just playing with her. She was the idiot for falling for it; and she did deserve it. He was someone way out of her league and she knew it.
Let her stick to her kind.
***
Thursday
My mother was finally out of the country––she was on a plane back to Germany.
On the other hand, my plane to Abu Dhabi was in three hours and I still hadn’t told Razzaq anything.
The house was quiet, but his car was in the driveway. The twins were out too, and it was like we forgot to be a family when my parents weren’t home. Thanks to Zaid, no less.
“Who is it?” Razzaq yelled out in English from his wing; clearly thinking it was one of the maids.
“It’s me,” I said in Arabic.
“One second,” he said, unlocking the door to his wing. “You okay?” he said; he was being shady by not opening the door not even a crack. I couldn’t comment. My secret was probably worse than his.
“Yeah, sorry I just forgot to tell you I’ll be sleeping at my friend Dalal’s chalet this weekend. I’m leaving in half an hour,” I said. I’d never slept at anyone’s chalet except maybe Jude’s a few years ago due to my strict mother’s rules and conditions.
He furrowed his brow, and my stomach quivered like he was onto me.
“Mother doesn’t know, does she?” he told me, and I scoffed.
“What do you think? Cover for me?” I asked him.
“Sure. The twins will be at Aunt Haya’s for the weekend,” he said. I nodded.
“Cool, I’ll see you in two days,” I said, feeling slightly relieved but leaving the country was too much for something not to go wrong, or would it go smoothly?
The butterflies in my stomach swarmed, part anxiety part excitement. I packed the last of my handbag, rolling my carry-on with me. I wanted to pack a suitcase but maybe I’d come off as too high maintenance for Yaqoub. God, I missed him. I hadn’t even seen him for coffee that week, because more and more employees we worked with started to walk in and God forbid a rumor would start.
Im otw
He texted me. We’d have to be careful so Razzaq wouldn’t find out. I couldn’t go with any of the drivers because they’d rat me out.
I’m ready. Can’t wait
I replied.
Me neither :)
The maids got my things outside to the cul de sac while I waited by the garden; the night still cool so I savored it while I could.
I pushed my carryon to the side gate so it was less clear if Yaqoub picked me up, just in case Razzaq left the same time as me, but he wouldn’t be able to see me from the main gate when he left. It was nerve-wracking, but also fun and exhilarating. It felt good to be different for a bit, like I wasn’t the too polished Zaina my family trained me to be.
He texted that he was out, just as I heard his tires crunch against the gravel. I quickly left the gate with my bags, and chucked them into the trunk of his car, before getting in. Razzaq’s window didn’t overlook this side of the yard, thankfully.
“Hi,” I said, out of breath.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to out us by getting out of the car in case of cameras.”
Crap. I forgot about that, but still I could say it was my friend’s family car.
“No worries,” I replied. His scent wrapped the car before it wrapped me, clinging onto me the way his body should.
“I’ve missed you,” he said with a smile. I smiled back.
“Me too,” I replied. “Are you ready for this weekend?”
“You have no idea,” he said with a laugh, pulling out of our street.
***
Apparently we weren’t the only ones looking forward to the race in Abu Dhabi. The check-in line was full, and for safe measure, Yaqoub stood a few people behind me in line to avoid suspicion. I hadn’t recognized anyone but I also had my cap on, as unappealing as it was, hoping it would offer some discretion.
It was only when we cleared border security that we were able to meet up at the Starbucks at the airport. Iced coffees for the both of us.
“I think I see one of my relatives,” he muttered to me while we waited for our drinks.
His face forced a smile as he walked away to say hello to this cousin of his, and I had to peek. It was a guy a bit older than us, not with any partner of his own. I walked away, like we really didn’t meet up, and our plane tickets were “accidentally” next to each other.
I’ll meet you on the plane. He wants to sit with me
He texted me in Arabic.
No worries, I hope he didn’t ask about me haha
I replied.
Not at all haha, you played it well ;)
I smiled to myself, and logged onto Snapchat. I blocked Sara, finally. I didn’t even pass by the chalet so I wouldn’t run into her just in case she was by the beach, waiting for an explanation on why she was blocked. I guess she'd put things together.
I watched Fajer’s story, which rarely featured any faces, just pictures of coffee and places she went to. Maybe she was engaged. She was proper; the kind women had first on their suggestion list whenever anyone asked about possible brides.
It seemed like forever until we were allowed to board, and of course, Yaqoub walked alongside his cousin while I rolled my carryon and handbag a few feet behind them.
I’d kill his relative if he wanted to switch seats with me to sit next to him, but fortunately once we boarded the plane the relative was in the first row, buckling himself up as I buzzed past him, just in case he was suspicious of me.
“I’ll get that for you,” Yaqoub said once I appeared in the tenth row. This was not the standard airplane experience I’d had. I never went past row five.
“Thank you,” I said, watching him haul my carryon to the overhead storage. I faintly watched his back muscles flex under his shirt, and my body fizzled with goosebumps at the sight of it. I wanted to see him do it, but this time without his shirt on. Where was my mind taking me? Was this how it felt like to be crazy over someone?
I sat next to him, fortunately, the third seat was unoccupied….or maybe I bought it for our privacy which he didn’t know about. Maybe. He wouldn’t have to know.
“Sorry, he’s one of those people who talk a lot and you can’t shake him off,” he whispered in my ear, and goosebumps set off on my skin again.
“No worries. It just makes the wait more…exciting,” I said, with a smile and he laughed.
“I’d say so myself,” he replied with a smile back; his face was so close I could see his thick lashes more clearly, the soft texture of his skin, and the curves of his lips. I was scared of what I’d do if we were alone, but I trusted myself still.
I composed myself and watched the safety instruction video on the screen, impatient for the next two days with him, and him alone.
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