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“You’re welcome,” Aisha whispered.
A shiver chased down Gabi’s neck and spine, down her arms and to her toes. Aisha stepped back. Gabi moaned silently at the ripples of desire trembling through her. Had Aisha noticed?
“I have to get home,” Aisha said.
Gabi sighed. “Do you have to?”
Aisha looked to the floor and then the door. “I have work to do.”
“I’m going to come to the square on Saturday to watch you.”
Aisha smiled. “I will dance for you.”
“I’ll only see you.”
Aisha laughed and shook her head. Gabi didn’t know what to make of that, because she’d meant it, and when Aisha left and Matías returned with his plans too soon, her head was still in a spin. Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough.
17.
“WE WILL HAVE A spring wedding,” Nicolás said. “Then it won’t spoil your sister’s special occasion.”
Aisha pressed her hand to her chest where the tightness was more oppressive than the storm clouds that hung ominously overhead. The rain would pass quickly as it always did at this time of year, but the sorrow in her heart would deepen. “There’s no hurry to set a date,” she said. Her heart refused to think about the exact time her limited freedom would end.
He took her hand as they walked towards the pickup point. “I am the happiest man alive,” he said.
Aisha let his hand go and repinned her hair, though it didn’t need adjusting. She was angry with her mama for speaking to her papa, who had taken it upon himself to speak to Nicolás after he’d confirmed Aisha’s intentions to Pedro. “Please, Nicolás, promise me, not a word to anyone until a date is set.” She lengthened her stride to move further away from him. When they were around other people, she could easily keep her distance and pretend that this wasn’t happening. She could forget that she was promised to him. She would lose herself in the music and dance to nourish the life that had been drained from her today.
“My lips are sealed for your love,” he said and chased around her like a puppy dog as she walked.
She was going to be sick. He appeared less handsome though he had made a special effort. His hair was slicked back and shining black, and his cheeks dimpled around his smile. He smelled of a sweet perfume and cinnamon. His hand was warm, and he’d held hers softly. He had managed, through persistence and passion, to trap the frightened bird, and now he was free to caress it with tenderness. She could dream all she liked, but there was no means of escape from the cage that had been put in place to contain and control her. She tugged at her blouse to free it from her neck and inhaled deeply, in fear of fainting.
“We will have three children. Two boys and a girl,” he said. “We can name the boys José and Jesús after our papa’s. The girl will be called María del Pilar, after our two wonderful mamas. She will be as beautiful as you, and the boys will be as strong as me. They will dance, and sing, and play music together.”
“You are greedy.”
He laughed. “I want what any man wants, a family of my own. Is that greed, or is it not the will of God to bless the product of our love in this way? I want our blood to flow long into the future. Yours and mine together, through our children’s children. They will be smart, courageous, and passionate, and our daughter will have your spirit. They will want for nothing, Aisha. We will give them the world.”
What did he know about giving the world? That she should subject her daughter to a life fated by her gender and rules that favoured the past filled Aisha with horror. She could never do such a thing and live happily. Perhaps, if they were married for a few years and she bore no children, it would be grounds for him to divorce her. Then no one would want her, and she would be left in peace. Alone, yes. Pitied, perhaps. Happy, no. She had to give up any hope of joy, or she would end up crazier than Old María.
She thought about Gabi and being at the river. She’d opened her heart because she trusted Gabi, and although she didn’t regret saying the things she’d said, maybe the advancing of her engagement to Nicolás would have been easier to accept if she hadn’t opened Pandora’s box. She’d left the Alhambra with a feeling that there was something between her and Gabi, and she couldn’t let go of the desire that tugged at her heart and excited her mind as if it didn’t exist. “We have to concentrate on dancing tonight,” she said.
“I will dream of our future while you dance,” Nicolás said and sang while they waited for their transport.
Aisha sat in the back of the van and closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at any of them. They were all honest men. Manuel had a wife and two children, Julio had three boys, and Francisco’s wife was pregnant with their first child.
And they all represented the life she’d come to detest.
She imagined herself in another country that had no name, dancing in the street alone, the wind blowing her hair, and the cold filling her lungs. There’d be the uncertainty of whether people would throw coins for her to be able to eat at night. Where would she sleep? Where would she make her home? How could she leave with no means of supporting herself? Her mama and papa would sit at the table in their house, mourning their loss. Her sister and husband would christen their first child. Abuela would sew and tell stories to the children. Pictures would be taken down, and the tales used to explain her betrayal of them would eventually quiet. The elders would sing and dance around the fire as if nothing had changed because for them, nothing had.
“You are trembling, Aisha. You are sick,” Julio said.
Aisha opened her eyes. The perspiration on her face chilled, and she shivered. She was shaking and nauseous. She couldn’t bear to be disowned by her family. The cost for her to trust in love was too high, and the consequences too devastating. If she ever summoned the courage to leave Granada to be with a woman, she had to be prepared to never return. She would have to be certain that love would last a lifetime and be strong enough to withstand the ache in her heart left by her family’s rejection of her.
Julio leaned through to the front of the van to where Nicolás was sat next to Manuel. “Aisha is sick,” he said.
“I’m fine.” She didn’t have a temperature. She was unwell, but not for the reasons they would think.
“We’re nearly there,” Manuel said.
