From Aliya to Hafiz

Three.

Aliya.

"Is everything ready? I just called Haroon and he said they are less than seven minutes away from here," Auntie rushed into the kitchen.

She was looking the finest I had ever seen her in a turquoise blue and white sequenced abaya. Her hair was covered by a white scarf, tied turban style, with only the small hairs of her forehead showing.

She wasn't wearing jewelry or makeup, only a simple kohl that made the brown of her eyes stand out vividly against the whites. It also complimented her slightly dark olive skin.

"Everything is ready, Hajiya. I just finished setting up the table," Mom replied. She was wearing a simple white bias skirt and a tunic, the only pop color on her was the lavender scarf wrapped around her.

"Okay, okay good," Auntie started pacing around the dining table. "The food is ready too right? And it's culture friendly right?" She nervously asked.

"Yes, Auntie. Liver and shrimp fried rice with roasted chicken, apple juice for a cold drink, and mango and vanilla tea for hot," I narrated patiently.

For the seventeenth time now.

"And for dessert?"

"Ice cream and pastries from Dominoes."

"Okay, that's good. It's all food he can eat. Nikita said he wasn't picky," she rubbed her palms against her thighs, eyes looking nostalgic and anxious.

I walked towards her, settled my hands on her arm, and gently caressed up and down. "Auntie, breathe," I said. "Breathe."

Matching my rhythm, her slightly hurried breathing slowed down. "It's going to be alright. Hafiz is going to love everything, after all, you arranged it for him."

"Really?" She asked unsurely, just like a child wanting reaffirmation.

"Really. You haven't seen each other for years. I'm sure he's just as nervous and eager as you are. Just remember to not freeze up when you see him," I teased.

She breathed out with a grin and hugged me. "You're right, thank you, Aliya."

"You're welcome," I smiled with confidence I didn't feel at all.

It has been nineteen years since Auntie and her cheap son met. Going by how rich their family was, it was a bit strange that he didn't come to visit her even once.

Something felt off and it was sort of making me nervous.

I pulled out of the hug just as the front door opened followed by two different sets of footfalls. Auntie froze up and I swear she didn't even seem to be breathing at all.

With a helpless smile directed at Mom, I held her hand and guided her to the entrance of the foyer just when our two guests reached there as well.

And then we were all face to face.

My eyes first settled on the mature and steady man wearing a navy blue suit and radiating authority. His hair was in a buzz cut and it made his sharp and proportional features stand out even more.

Especially his honey-colored eyes.

His chin sported a five o'clock shadow and let me just say; omoooo, hot rich daddy vibes ooo!

Not only was he fit for his age, he looked young too.

"Amina."

"Ya Mubarak."

Twice-a-year man, whose name I now knew, called out at the same time as Auntie. There was something about the way they both stared at each other, as if they were the only ones in the world.