The Nanny

Chapter Thirteen

"Is everything okay?" Hudaa asked standing by the door.

"Yeah," I replied. She entered the room and sat next to me — on the floor.

"Are you ever going to go home. Not that I hate you staying here, but..." I interjected and spoke. Hudaa is just worried, and I understand.

"I just don't know how. It doesn't feel like home anymore. After my dad passed away, my mum was there to console me and tell me everything will be okay, she was there..."

"It's okay, you can stay as long as you like, but one day you will have to go back. Even if it means you will have to cry, which is totally healthy. Things do get better with time, it hurts a little less," she said and hugged me. I don't know where I'd be and how my state would be, without my best friend by my side. My phone started ringing. I stood up and took my phone that was charging by the bedpost. I look at my lock screen and it's Adil calling me. I answer the call:

"Hey Layla," he said, enthusiastically.

"Hi," I replied.

"Are you coming for the surprise birthday party?" He asked.

"I don't know."

"Oh I thought you were going to take Imad with you," he said. "It's fine I will take him."

"What? No, he has school tomorrow. Mr Ahmed would never allow it. He will get angry," I explained.

"It's just for half an hour than I'll drop him back home. Don't worry."

"If that's case, I will come for the surprise party. I'll meet you guys there," I told him. Imad would get bored the moment he enters that restaurant, probably even get fussy. I am not taking any chances.

"Okay see you there," he said.

"Bye," I said and hang up. Hudaa looked at me, and grinned.

"I have the perfect dress for you," she said and rushed out of the room. Oh no she's planning to give me a make over. She came back holding a beautiful long evening off-white dress, with a small feather like beading on the sleeves.

"I don't need to get dressed up," I told her.

"Layla I am your best friends, if I let you go to that party looking grim. I would live with the guilt my entire life," she said and kept the dress on the bed. "Okay try that on. Let me go get you a matching scarf, shoes and a clutch bag." Hudaa went out the room, a beam of excitement plastered on her face. I went to the bathroom and changed. It didn't feel magical or anything, it just felt different. A beautiful type of different. As I came out of the bathroom, Hudaa looked at me in awe.

"What is it?" I asked her.

" 'Afdal sidiyq li tabdu 'amirat alhrfia," she said. [My best friend looks like a literal princess.] "Now try on this shoes!" She exclaimed, thrilled. Hudaa held up nude three inch heels.

"I am not wearing heels. I can't even walk in them," I told her.

"Oh come on, they are only three inch heels. You can practice, you still have time," she said and kept the heels in front of me. Hudaa designed my scarf, simply. She wanted to do my make up — but I said no. But she's applying mascara and pink lipgloss, it's impossible to win an argument against her.

"I look like I am going for a wedding," I said while looking in the mirror.

"You look beautiful," she told me and smiled. "I have done my job."

"I still think, all this is unnecessary. But thank you," I told her.

"No problem," she said. "Don't forget to smile."