Chapter 42 Miz
42
MIZ
I lead Kal down the aisle, of the Rabba by my workplace, that is, at the far end of which there’s only an unoccupied cash register—no priest, no officiant, no vows—and come to a stop three-quarters of the way down, exactly between the toiletries on the one side and breads on the other. “We’re here.”
Kal squeezes in beside me. “Here where? Aren’t you picking something up?”
“Nope. This is where I wanted to come today.”
“For our first date?”
“Yup!” In the time since our interview, Kal and I have been busy making up for a lot, mostly within the four walls of my bedroom. But there was one thing I knew I definitely wanted to do that would require us putting on clothes and leaving my apartment: going on our official first date. And I knew exactly where I wanted it to be. Or at least where I wanted it to start. Right here. I had been mostly avoiding this Rabba since before that awkward-as-hell meetup with Khadijah—Ms. Pay-to-Play—and full on steering clear of it since then. But the risk of another awkward encounter was worth it.
“And what’s so special here?”
“No, wait.” I shuffle a bit to the left. “Right…here is exactly where I was when you got in touch for the first time in three years, and on top of that, to tell me that your ass was in Toronto.”
“Oh,” he says softly, looking around as if we’re at the scene of an old accident marked by piles of sun-bleached plastic flowers and laminated photos.
I nod, running my finger down a bottle of baby oil. I had created a space like that in my heart when I had thought our friendship was dead for good. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
I wave him off. “Now you know.”
“Thank you for bringing me.”
“I’d also picked this spot for our fake photos day. But we never got around to it.”
“We can do it now…”
“Meh. Who for? We can just…have our date by…shopping!” I say, making it up as I go along. Because when you’ve been friends with your boyfriend longer than he’s been your boyfriend, and you live together, romance just be like that, in the everyday. “For starters, we’re out of these,” I say, grinning. I knock a few packs of condoms off the shelf and into my basket. Kal reaches over me, coming way more into my personal space than needed, to nudge one more pack off the shelf, which I also catch in my basket. Since he’s already all up on me, he takes me by the waist and dips me so far that I see stuff on the bottom shelf I’ve never noticed.
“May I?” He offers his arm once I’m upright again. I link mine with his, and we stroll the aisles as if we’re in a museum on our honeymoon, until our basket is full with the ingredients for a romantic night in: scented candles, strawberries, incense, whipped cream, chocolate, bubble bath and a mixed flower arrangement that, from the looks of it, should be at least 50 percent off.
By the time we finish shopping, who should be at the cash register but Khadijah herself.
Because I’m just lucky like that.
“Eff my life,” I murmur to Kal. “It’s her .”
“So?” Kal says, continuing on. He’s right. So what? I’m tired of going all the way to the other convenience store ten minutes away in this damn winter. I miss my Subway lunch specials. If she wants to have attitude, that’s her potato. I’m a bit impressed though, having never seen any of the women who look like me in charge of the till at any Rabba. You go, girl.
“I hope she acts as if she’s never seen me before in her life,” I hiss to Kal without moving my lips. But she gets right to it while scanning the first item. “You never called,” she says. She darts a look at Kal, not sure how much more she should say. I’m so glad I never showed her a photo of him. “Is your friend still looking for someone?”
I scrunch up my face toward Kal, as if I haven’t thought about this friend in ages. “You remember what’s his name, who needed a sponsor?”
Kal’s eyes dance. “Oh, him,” he says, playing along. “Hold on. Let me check on him.”
When he unlocks his phone, it automatically opens to the last app he was in: his email. Showing there’s a new message, which even reading upside down, I can clearly see is from the IRCC. I’d recognize that no-reply@ address anywhere, the one that means there’s an update on our case. My heart rate triples. The barcode scanner beeps slowly as Khadijah takes her sweet time with our purchases. Kal swallows, his face becoming serious, his gaze steely. I know he’s thinking what I’m thinking. Already? It’s only been a week and a bit since we (surely) bombed the interview.
I swallow, trying to wet my parched throat while we telepathize over it. Should I open it? Now? Up to you. You tell me.
“Do it,” I say, my voice low. Why not? Apparently, I am meant to have all my peak life moments in this Rabba. We’ll be fine either way. Just, one way, where we get to grow our relationship in the same time zone, will suck less.
Kal taps on the link. I turn away. I can’t look. This is like waiting to be jabbed by one of those giant needles for blood donation. I grab a bunch of chocolate bars and put them on the counter.
“Need a bag?” Khadijah says, though of course that’s not what she’s really asking.
“Yes, please.”
I try to concentrate on the total adding on the screen. I don’t even bat an eye when she gets to the condoms. Kal is being too quiet. Does it take that long to jump between apps? Maybe the network is down. I take my phone out and look at the bars. Nope, network is fine. Maybe the password didn’t preload. We changed it from that marriage proverb to a simple Wereket . Paper. Perfect reminder not to ever get ahead of ourselves again—”
“He’s good.”
I whip around, eyes bugging. Kal is all smiles. “ He is?! ” I leap on Kal so fast he almost doesn’t catch me. He spins me around and puts me down with a big kiss. We high-five. “Yes!”
“Yes indeed,” Kal says, gathering himself as Khadijah puts our bags on the counter, giving us the withering look of a disapproving aunt. “He found someone,” he says to her, then turns to me. “The perfect someone who was there all along.”
If I grinned any harder, my smile would go all the way around my head.
“Good for him,” Khadijah says, bored. “That’ll be seventy-five thirty.”
“Give me that,” I say, taking Kal’s phone. I need my eyeballs on the actual sentence.
This refers to the Application to Sponsor blah blah blah …has been approved.