Under the Olive Tree

11. Ahda 'Ashar

Amani spent the next morning, noon, and afternoon in the market a fifteen-minute car ride from her house. More specifically, she spent it within the bridal dress boutique on the second floor of a four-story building. She sat in the company of her uncle's wife and Reema's future mother- and sister-in-law as they watched the dress be fit to Reema's figure for the wedding coming in the next week.

It was a long dress of white cloth and busy red embroidery. Around her cousin's waist, the dress was fitted perfectly then fell loosely to the floor. Its length had prompted a set of heels to lift Reema up and ensure it would not sweep dust along its tail. The sleeves widened as they fell over the freshly drawn henna on her arms. The collar of the dress stood an inch around her neck, rising to nearly touch the cap she used to cover her hair.

Were it not for the white veil falling from her head and reaching past her hips, the cap may have appeared too minimalistic. But the matching red stitches that decorated its edges and the small golden plated tiara around her head added breathtaking touches.

"When you get married, will you wear traditional clothing like this, Amani?" Reema asked once they left the room to help her out of the dress once all the changes had been finalized.

Amani didn't immediately dismiss the thought as she unzipped the hidden zipper down her cousin's back. "It's really pretty, but I don't think so. The wedding dresses I'm used to are usually only white and a bit more extravagant than this one."

"I know. I've seen them in movies. They always have such a long tail dragging behind them, don't they?" Reema carefully detached the veil falling over her back. "If we wore a dress like that here, it would be black with dirt by the end of the night. Not to mention, everybody would be stepping on it during all the dancing."

"Then it's good they are not here. I think these styles are better suited for the wedding parties here. Bas, tell me, how does it feel to have signed all the papers already? You're practically married now, aren't you?" She watched her cousin's smile grow.

Reema nodded. "Technically, yes. I could move in with him right now if I wanted to as his official wife. The wedding is the best part of it all, though, don't you think? All the music and dancing and food!"

Amani joked. "The food is the best part, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding? It's the only reason I'm getting married," Reema answered a little too seriously and, sharing a single emotionless blink, both girls broke into a fit of laughter on their way out of the boutique. Reema's father's car was waiting for the two near the busy road, her parents already sitting within.

"Do you know what you're going to wear?"

Amani nodded. "Auntie got me a new dress last week to wear. I'll show it to you when you come over. It's black with a red and gold waist and the sleeves are loose like yours."

"Black?" Reema asked as they climbed into the vehicle.

"I can't wear white, you know."

"What about the embroidery then? It has to be very colorful or you are going to arrive at my wedding looking like the Angel of Death. That'll be another scandal you'd put on yourself," she chuckled.

Amani rolled her eyes. "It's colorful, don't worry. Straight across the chest and separate columns around the skirt. It's pretty but not pretty enough to take anyone's attention off of you, of course," she bowed her head graciously to her cousin.

Reema sat back comfortably. "That's precisely what I like to hear. Your humility is one of my favorite things about you, baby cousin."

They drove Amani to her home before circling back the way they'd come toward their house. On her way up the steps, she imagined if things would change once Reema got married. Would she become too occupied with her new house and her husband to meet her cousin on the daily as they did now?