Jana watched Imani walking with Shelina, her long lehenga skirt skimming the floor. She did look older in that outfit. Not the baby she still was in Jana’s mind.
“Not a baby anymore,” he continued. He looked at Jana. “Still making that face like you smell a dirty diaper when I talk to you, huh?”
“I don’t make a face.” She wasn’t even annoyed at him at this moment. Jana couldn’t win here.
He snorted. “You do. You are now.”
Jana tried to look pleasant but probably looked confused. “I’m not intentionally making a face.”
Anil laughed then, which completely lit him up and made it hard for Jana to be mad at him. It would be hard foranyoneto be mad at that smile. Maybe Jana should be trying to emulate Anil to be seen asvibrant.
“She wrote her own name last week,” Jana said.
Somehow Anil’s face got even brighter. “Her whole name?”
Jana nodded. “Imani Rosemin Suleiman Malek. She ran out of space halfway through so Malek is on the next page.”
He beamed. “She’s brilliant. I mean, I didn’t expect anything else with you as her mother.”
Jana didn’t know what to say to the compliment, so she said nothing.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he said, “we went to this fancy restaurant in another resort for a tasting menu last night, and the chef had made this peanut-coconut brittle with cardamon and chilies. I had them pack some up for you because I know you love anything peanut.”
Jana frowned. Shedidlove peanuts. Especially in desserts. But he’d already brought her that peanut butter candy bar…Was he going to continue to shower her with peanuts all over Tanzania? “Why did you do that?”
He shrugged. “Because it was easy to.” He glanced around the heavily decorated hall. “Can you believe all this? I wonder how many mosquito nets they could have bought with the money this party cost.”
Jana chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing. I guess it’s good to pour money into the economy, though. Apparently, this hotel hires a lot of local villagers. I was chatting with a porter earlier—he’s a warrior in his tribe.”
“I do get how tourism is important for the local economy, and I know these places do a lot of good work for both conservation and human development, but it still feels jarring to be on the other side of it. Gorgeous wedding, though.”
She agreed completely. On one hand, Jana knew logically that this one wedding wasn’t having a negative impact on the big picture, but after working in development for so long, this felt strange.
And also? It was strange to be having a conversation like this with Anil again. For a moment, it felt like they were back in London talking about the economics of development. “Anil, the other day at breakfast, what were you going to say? You said you were hoping that…”
He looked at her for several long moments, but Jana couldn’t read his expression. His mask was firmly on. “Let’s save that conversation for later, okay?” He chuckled. “I don’t want that look of yours to come back.”
Jana didn’t want to make that face—whatever it was—either. She wanted to talk about development and about Imani learning to do up her own shoes and ask him how that private dinner was. But what she wanted to say and what she actually said apparently weren’t in sync.
She noticed Dr. Lopez and Farzana Aunty walking into the room.
Jana turned back to Anil and said, “I gotta go. Bridesmaid duties.” She rushed to the other bridesmaids who were preparing for the events to start.
Kamila and Rohan had combined the puro ceremonies, which were traditionally done by the bride’s side, with the pithi ceremonies, which were by the groom’s side. Traditionally, the groom’s family would bring in the bride’s trousseau, but Jana knew the elaborately wrapped packages Rohan’s parents were carrying into the hall were not filled with fancy Indian clothes and jewelry but instead hotel towels. Kamila insisted there was no point in bringing things to the other side of the world just to show off.
Jana’s mother was standing in for Kamila’s mother to welcome the Nasser family to the Hussain family since Kamila’s mother had passed away years ago. This was funny to Jana because all three families had known each other for years. Long before Rohan or Kamila had been born. Plus, this was the second Hussain/Nasser wedding.
But Mom was in her element up there. Smiling in her sari. Talking and laughing with everyone. Belonging with the family. Weddings were Mom’s happy place.
After the blessings at the door, the event dissolved into being like pretty much all of Kamila’s gatherings—a boisterous party full of delicious food, loud music, and louder talking. Jana was determined to at least appear to enjoy herself.
After the dance floor had been busy for a while, Asha appeared next to Jana at their table.
“C’mon, Jana. It’s time to check an item off your list.”
Jana had no choice…She went with Asha, glad at least that they wanted her to dance, not sing. She could do a little Bollywood freestyle then escape back to her table.
But when the DJ put on the song “Mehndi Laga Ke Rakhna,” Jana knew two things: one, Kamila was behind this scheme, and two, a little light Bollywood freestyle wasn’t what they had in mind. Although this was a popular Indian wedding song, Kamila, Shelina, and Jana had been in countless competitions dancing to this very song with their dance troupe as kids. They’d spent months perfecting the choreography—and Kamila knew Jana would still have the moves memorized. Jana looked out and saw many guests had stopped what they were doing to watch them. Including Sam Lopez and Farzana Aunty.
