SIN and HONEY: Seven Years of Longing

Chapter 2: Rachel

        Rachel rolled over to face her sister. Leah was bent over a bronze plate, gazing at her reflection as she braided her hair with none of the current style tricks taught to them by the women of Haran. She wore it plain, as if to hide her beauty on purpose.

        "I'll help you with that," Rachel offered. She slid to the edge of her mat.

        Leah didn't look up. "That's alright, I'm just finishing."Her voice was soft but harsh, like the burn of rope against the palm of the hand. Leah tied the end of her braid and it hung down her back, full of weight.

        Rachel bit her lip, her head bursting with questions she lacked the courage to ask. For the past few years, Leah had preferred solitude and prayer to Rachel's company-and with the wedding fast approaching had made herself even more scarce than usual.

        "You're awake early," Rachel said lightly, removing the sheet from her chest. The summer was unseasonably humid; everyone in camp was praying for rain except for her. Not until after the wedding, she had whispered the past few nights to the gods-the Anunnaki-Inanna and Enlil, Adad and Ninhursag and the others, hoping they would grant her wish.

        "I'm sorry if I disturbed you,"Leah apologized.

        "You didn't,"Rachel insisted quickly, trying a warm smile. "I couldn't really sleep last night. The Birds were here, pecking at me."

        "The Birds" were the older busybody women in the camp, for whom they all had secret nicknames. Amit the owl with her wrinkled skin, Mirah the fowl, who had a nose like a beak, and Uzi was a peacock because of her thick halo of hair ...the list went on. Years ago, Leah would have rolled her eyes and asked which ones?

        Instead, their eyes met for the first time in days, and Leah said nothing. "I was just going to get started on my work for the day, washing the wool. I'm sure you'll be busy today."

        "You're welcome to join us. I could use your help with the wedding preparations ..." Rachel said. She could already hear their father greeting the traveling merchants as they returned from morning prayers and instructing their servants on where to set up the wedding tents.

        "We could talk," Rachel continued, taking Leah's silence to mean consideration. "It's going to be so strange, being married. Not living here, with you ..."

        Leah's jaw tensed. She pegged up the flap of their tent so that the sun streamed in. Rachel's eyes clutched the lingering darkness while adjusting to the light.

        "You'll do just fine without me. The Birds will help if you need extra hands."

        Rachel lay down and pulled the sheet back over her. Leah knew better than anyone that the old women didn't help. Mirah gossiped about who had more food rations that month while Amit clucked disapprovingly, and the others judged which eligible girls would be betrothed next, and which were rumored to be a little too rotund in their tummies before the wedding day. They crowed and cackled and pinched cheeks, just as they did for Leah each time Laban brought home an eligible match for her. But now that Leah was seen as a lost cause, they turned their attentions toward Rachel's wedding.

        Rachel wanted nothing to do with them. She would rather wander with Leah by the riverbank, searching for wild onions, garlic, and berries. She loved listening to her sister's quiet voice while they extracted dye from shells for their linen tunics, as they did when they were young. The work would stain their nail beds with the deep indigo shade of agarman. During those bright moments, the secrets they had shared were woven into the fabric for only them to see.

        "Maybe I could go with you?"Rachel asked. "Keep you company while you-"

        But Leah had disappeared into the stretch of daylight. Always silent, like the rare summer wind that blew away their lambskin kites when they were children. It came so quickly, their hopes so high-and then it was gone, and the kites went with it, lost to the sky.

         Two more days, Rachel reminded herself. The thought slowly lifted the fog Leah left in her wake.

        As she slid off her mat, Rachel peeled her night robe off and reached for the clay jar of infused oil. Ummi had taught her that cassia, the holy anointing oil, should grace the bedside of new lovers. For spice, she used to say, tugging Rachel's ear and winking. Rachel smiled at the memory, lightly massaging her arms and neck with the liquid before spilling a few more droplets into her palm. Imagining Jacob's hands on her body, she swept her fingertips along the swells of her breasts and across her collarbone. She hoped the fragrance would capture his attention.

        Picking up Leah's bronze plate, Rachel examined her reflection. She'd long given up her mother's practice of attempting to tame her hair and chosen instead to let the dark curls cascade down her bronzed shoulders and back. Her face was shaped like a heart, with cheeks so full her mother used to tease that she had hidden extra figs from breakfast inside of them. Abundant eyelashes gave her a constant bashful expression. Better to hide the mischief from your eyes, Jacob had teased, knowing that Rachel had never been good at misbehaving, but only ever wanted to when he was around.

        She dressed and belted her robe tightly so it clung to her body while she still could. The old women could complain all they wanted, but Rachel didn't care. Once she and Jacob were married she would be shielded from public view: her hair in coverlets, only for him to see, and her body hidden beneath more modest garments fit for a wife. All the features of her beauty-her coy, wavelike eyelashes; the tendrils of her hair peeking out from beneath their captivity-would become a secret language only Jacob understood.

        Then, he would possess her completely.

***

Rachel is certainly lusting for Jacob! Will she give up her virginity before their marriage? Read on to find out!

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