Rising from bed, Steph padded to the door and opened it to find her mother sitting with a couple other women, deep in conversation. When she stepped into the living room, all eyes turned to her.
“And this must be the lucky lady!” one of them said, rising, with sparkles in her eyes.
Both women stood as Steph walked in. They looked elated, as though their own daughter were getting married to a rich and handsome man. One of them approached her and grasped her hand affectionately. Her hair was very curly, and it stood out from her head at least half a foot.
“We’re your wedding planners from the El Farah side of the family. I’m your mother’s cousin, Anouk, and this is my daughter, Shivika. We’re here to make sure everything is all set for the big moment!”
Shivika stepped forward and grasped Steph’s other hand. Steph blinked at them both, not knowing what to say. After a pause, they both burst into laughter.
“Isn’t it funny how scared they always look, Elora? My dear girl, I assure you, your mother has chosen well. I have personally met the man you are about to marry, and he is perfectly lovely.”
Steph perked up at that piece of information. Perhaps if her parents weren’t willing to tell her about her fiancé, then these new cousins of hers would.
“Do tell me more! What does he look like? What does he do for a living?”
Anouk wagged her finger at Steph, releasing her grip and rejoining Elora on the sofa. Shivika followed suit, gesturing for Steph to sit across from them.
“Ah-ah, we will not be the ones to give anything away. We would be breaking with centuries of custom if we did that, my dear. Now, come join us and we can talk about how we’re going to fix your hair for the ceremony, yes?”
Steph listened with limited attention as her cousins went on and on about hairstyles that would go perfectly with the tiara her mother had given her. She gazed out at the desert and the sea, wishing she were sitting on the shore rather than listening to new family members drone on about twisting her hair one way or another.
“Steph, are you paying attention? This is important.”
Her mother’s voice made her jump, and she brought her attention back to the room.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I’m just…excited.”
While she thought she was unconvincing, Shivika and Anouk accepted her apology and quickly pressed on before they were suddenly at her side and shoving her back into her bedroom.
“You’ll want to get a good shower in, and make sure you give your hair a thorough wash. It looks a little greasy this morning.”
“But—” Steph began to protest, but to no avail. Shivika pushed her all the way into the bathroom before she was able tell the woman she was perfectly capable of taking it from there.
“I’m sure you are on a regular day, but I can see you are distracted by your excitement. If we have to wash your hair for you, we’ll do it!”
“I think I can manage,” Steph grumbled, shutting the door behind her and staring at her resigned reflection in the mirror.
She was doing this to make her parents happy. They had been good to her all her life, and they only wanted what was best for her. Sometime in the night she had finally come to terms with the fact that this wedding would take place and she would be married by the day’s end.
Stepping into the shower, Steph took her time soaping up and washing her hair, standing under the heat of the water for far longer than was necessary. Finally, her mother knocked on the door.
“Steph, we don’t have all day. We need to start drying your hair now if we want it to be manageable in time.”
Steph thought about her cousin’s bushy hairdo and wondered just what they meant by “manageable.”
“I’m coming,” she called, turning off the water.
She wrapped herself in a towel before stepping out of the bathroom, and then she was bombarded by her cousins once again.
“About time. Who takes showers that long? No matter; let’s get you glamorous!”
Steph was seated on the living room sofa, where a makeshift beauty studio had been set up. Shivika came up behind her and began making quick work of her hair with a blow-dryer and a curling iron. With no mirror to see what she looked like, Steph had no choice but to hope they would make her look somewhat decent—yet another decision taken out of her hands. She felt like a rag doll, a child’s plaything.