Emeralds

Forty-three.

Forty-three
[Leen]

"Why not?" I ask her.

Both of us are sitting on the balcony of my room. She has made us two cups of pomegranate tea she's brought this morning, which we are sipping right now with some cookies. The cookies aren't too sugary, that is somehow an advantage and a disadvantage because they taste just perfect and at the same time I can hardly stop eating them and thus gain unpleasant weight.

"Because it doesn't make sense," she replies after swallowing a mouthful of cookies.

We've been having this argument since we woke up today. Adam and Ahmed said they'll be leaving to meet with the doctor and Ahmed's father's friend. While we were talking Mariam had said how much she loves it here in Germany, how much she enjoys the weather and walking down the streets, how she'd love to get married in a similar place. I keep telling her to have the engagement party here but she doesn't listen.

"I think it's perfect," I reach out and sense the table until I find the pack of cookies. "Tell me your reasons to refuse."
"First of all, we should not be thinking about anything now other than your surgery," she says pushing the pack my way.
"What does this have to do with anything?" I exclaim, "It's a whole week from now, we can do it before that if you want to. Imagine how great it would be to be engaged in Europe. Don't you want to? Wouldn't you like it?"
"I would like it," she says, "but it's not a priority right now." She sighs. "Well, let's say we will have it before your surgery, when and how on earth will we make a reservation?"
"We'll think of something," I say trying to hide how that caught me off guard.
"Well, think of something," she says, and I hear sarcasm in her voice, "if you come up with an idea, I promise I'll think about it seriously."
"You promise?" I smirk.
"Yes."

Challenge accepted.

Mariam leaves an hour or so later to take a nap, and I decided to take one too but I end up turning and moving around the bed until it gets hot, so I get up and walk to the balcony, one hand in front of me. The weather today feels like a warm cup of hot chocolate on a chilly night. The air hits coldly most of the time, but then there's a soft warmness every once in a while, like the sky is dripping sunlight, a shy rain. The air is too fresh; it makes even breathing feels new.

I keep fiddling with a block of my hair from under the loose hijab, thinking of a way I can make Mariam and Ahmed's engagement come true, very soon, here. I know very well how happy that can make both of them, and I want to do that. I want to thank them for everything, for being there all along, for bearing with me and for being real friends. They have done so much, they've left there lives for about a week now to travel with us, and they actually like it, they don't obligatory do it or do it for the mere act of helping someone close, I think they actually enjoy it, really enjoy it. And I want to get the chance to enjoy making them happy as well.

Adam comes through the door late in the noon. He gives me a bear hug and asks how I spent my day.
"Chatting with Mariam mostly," I say, "also Salam called and we talked for a while, then I talked to mom and Jenin, she's spending the day with them, she finished work early. You know what? Jenin is pregnant again! In two months or something, I can't wait for another niece or nephew!" I keep saying excitedly and he listens sometimes and his mind wanders off some other times, but it doesn't annoy me, I actually smile--thankful for the thought of asking about my day, though knowing most of its events are not that important to him. However, he snaps his eyes to me when I mention Jenin's pregnancy.
"Wow, mashallah," he smiles broadly, "best news I hear in a while."
"Yeah, I know!" I squeal. "Ah by the way, I wanted to talk to you about something--" I'm interrupted by my phone ringing. "Wait," I tell Adam and move towards the sound of the phone. Adam follows me and takes a look at the phone.
"It's an unknown number," he says. "Wanna answer anyway?"
"Yeah, give it to me," I nod.
"Wait, I'll answer and give it to you okay?" he says calmly.
"Okay," I shrug.
"Asslamu'alikom?" he says to the other person. "Yeah it's her number, may I ask who you are." Adam pauses for a moment, listening to the person talking and I hear a faint sound which I cannot put into words. "An old classmate. . ." Adam repeats.
I gasp and whisper to Adam, "Is that Hazem?"
He looks at me, raising an eyebrow, "Wait a minute, I'll put her on the phone." Adam huffs and hands the phone over to me, he places it in my hand and secure my grip around its smooth edges. I feel him standing too close to me, I can hear him breathing. I smile inside--careful not to show him though--at how concerned he seems.
"Asslamu'alikom Hazem," I say politely.
"Wa'likom Asslam," he replies, "how is everything?" I realise he doesn't know a thing about my accident, and I don't tell him.
"Alhamdulillah, what about you?" I ask, feeling Adam next to me all the time.
"Great, alhamdulillah." A pause. "There's this thing actually I wanted to talk to you about. I need your help, that's why I'm calling."
"Sure, what is it?" I say, and hear Adam shifting his balance, something he does when he's trying to refresh his concentration. He sighs impatiently.
"It's about Salam," Hazem says nervously. "I want to ask for her hand, but I need to tell you first because you're her best friend; I want to know if she has anyone in mind or if she's even engaged so I don't put both of us in an awkward situation."
I give a short laugh, I don't know if it's because I'm surprised or because of the way he talked too fast like he's afraid if he went slower he'd forget the words he's been memorising for long.
"So," he says stiffly, "what do you say."
"Well," I smile happily but try to master a serious voice, "she has no one actually, so I think you're safe." He laughs. "But would you like me to talk to her first? You know she's really sensitive after her parents died and she might not want to think about marriage so soon."
"Sure," he says a little too quickly. "Take your time, I'm waiting." Another pause. "But what do you personally think?"
"I'm okay with it if she is," I smile. "If things go right I'll let you talk to Baba, he's her guardian now."
"Of course," he says. "Thank you Leen," I hear relief and a hint of a smile in his voice, "I'll always owe you."
"Don't say that," I reply, "she's my best friend. And honestly, I'd trust you with her." We exchange some more nervous words of gratitude and hang up.