Chapter Twelve #2
“I love it. I’m learning so many new skills.
How to gather eggs and do laundry, for example.
I had no idea how much work went into laundry.
Hauling the water, heating it, then emptying the washtubs.
Did you know soap is crafted by hand?” Malika had put no more thought into soap’s origin than she’d invested in eggs. It was always there when it was needed.
Vanessa’s long, lovely eyelashes twitched. “The best quality soap is handmade, I suppose.”
“And I’ve learned how to pick berries and make pies. Pearl is going to teach me to sew.” Malika brightened. “Also, Mavis taught me how to make beds using hospital corners.”
“You’ve never made your own bed?”
“I’ve never needed to.” Not until she came to Burning Scrub, where no one seemed especially anxious to do it for her, and since Mavis didn’t like untidiness in her small house, not making her bed in the morning wasn’t an option.
“I never knew how much art goes into tucking the corners, and in plumping the pillows so they sit exactly right against the headboard.” According to Mavis, she was woefully unqualified for such a detail-oriented and prestigious task, too.
“It comes with practice.” Vanessa’s eyes lingered thoughtfully on her. “I understand you’re engaged to be married. Congratulations. Your new skills should prove to be very helpful. When is the big day?”
This was a good opportunity for Malika to ask for her help.
Except, Malika was enjoying their ride together, and there was no reason to spoil the moment by requesting a favor.
There was also Jayce to consider. If his mother confided her plans for escaping to him, he might tell Adeel.
Jayce liked Adeel. He also liked playing the part of the honorable cowboy.
It might be best to save her request for a favor for later.
She could, however, make one thing clear. “There will be no big day. I am not going to be married, despite what Adeel believes,” Malika said. “He has chosen a husband unworthy of one of his sisters.”
“Oh? In what way is this gentleman unworthy?”
“He has a first wife.” Her outrage returned whenever she had to say it out loud.
“Taking a second wife is part of the old traditions. It’s unusual these days, but not unheard of—especially if a man has plenty of money.
” She refused to acknowledge to an outsider, even one as lovely as Vanessa, that her mother was her father’s third wife.
Taking a third wife was considered ostentatious, even crass.
“As a second wife, I’d be of lesser importance.
His first wife would continue to help him make family decisions.
” Her spine hardened. She was equal to each one of her father’s daughters.
She deserved better than this. She deserved her own family without another woman’s intervention.
“Adeel Jiorji’s sister is second to no woman. ”
Vanessa frowned as she processed what she was hearing. “What if you were the first wife and your husband decided to take a second? How would you feel about it then?”
Malika had been as curious about American culture as Americans were about her Djitanian background, so she didn’t mind answering questions, even if it made her angry with Adeel all over again.
“If I am the first wife, my husband would have no need of a second. My brother will have arranged a magnificent mahr for me—similar to a dowry, or a bride price, provided by the groom. I’d bring my family’s status and connections to the union.
And I would make certain our home is happy—although my husband would need to do his part in that as well, of course. ”
“Of course. What, exactly, is a man’s role in a Djitanian family?”
Malika had been preparing her whole life for her role as a wife. She could recite the lessons verbatim.
“Marital happiness begins with husband and wife. The man brings in the money, and the wife must spend it wisely on feeding and clothing the family. They share in the family decision-making, especially decisions that involve their children, but they must work together to please each other in the bedroom if the marriage is to truly succeed.”
“That makes sense. Do you want children?”
“I would love to have children. But only if I can make the home happy for them. I am certain I will not be happy in the marriage Adeel has arranged for me.”
“There are enough unhappy marriages in the world already,” Vanessa said, her expressive eyes pensive. “What will happen to you if you refuse to marry the man your brother has chosen?”
Again, this was her chance. The perfect opportunity to speak up and ask for help. If only she could be confident that Adeel wouldn’t find out before her plans for escape were in place.
“He will cast me out of the family.” That was the only part of her plan to hurt her heart.
She loved her sisters and nieces and nephews. She loved her mother. And she loved Adeel, the brother she knew best, despite his cold and unfeeling betrayals.
“I’ll be forced to support myself. That’s why it’s so important for me to learn useful skills while I’m here.”
Vanessa expression became even more pensive.
“I’m not sure there’s a big demand for washing laundry by hand, anymore.
We do laundry every day on a ranch, and it’s time-consuming.
I can show you how to use our washing machine instead, if you like.
Then you’d have two sets of skills to use for the same task. ”
“That’s very kind of you. I won’t need to wash laundry for a living, though. I have a much better plan.” And her plan was genius, because it drew on the skills she’d learned to prepare her for marriage. “I’m going to help men who want to make their wives happy.”
She told Vanessa about her roommate, and the online business she ran helping men who didn’t know how to ask their wives and girlfriends to please them, and those men who possibly didn’t have women yet, but wanted to be prepared.
“I’m not sure I see the connection,” Vanessa said slowly. “How is a man seeking sexual gratification from a stranger online helpful to his partner at home?”