by Carol Grace
She was almost disappointed when the ride ended, and he brought her home to her house. Never had three hours passed so quickly. He insisted on carrying her inside, though she told him she could easily hobble in by herself. She sat on the couch with her leg stretched out in front of her while he brought her suitcases in.
She thanked him profusely and told him she’d be fine. She promised to stay off her foot as much as possible. She assured him she had a freezer full of food and that her bedroom was on the first floor so there was no danger of her climbing stairs or being on her feet for any length of time.
There was an awkward silence when she’d finished answering all his questions, while he stood in the middle of her living room looking around. He didn’t seem to know whether to go or stay. He didn’t seem to know what to say either or what to do. Which wasn’t like him at all. As long as she’d known him, he was completely at ease in any social situation.
“All right,” he said at last. “Call me if you need anything.” He put her phone on the end table next to the couch, then he stood there for a long moment looking down at her as if he’d forgotten something. At that moment she almost told him not to go, but of course she didn’t. There was no reason he should stay, none at all. No reason for her to tell him she didn’t want him to leave, that she needed him, wanted him, didn’t want to live without him. She could only imagine the look of panic on his face if she did. She had a sprained ankle but that didn’t mean she needed a full-time nurse. She could take care of herself. She knew it and he knew it, too.
After a moment, he left. He hadn’t touched her after he’d put her on the couch. It seemed to her that he’d stayed as far away as he could, as if she had some communicable disease instead of a sprained ankle. He didn’t kiss her goodbye either. Not that she’d expected him to. It was just…it was just that it was so lonely, so unexpectedly lonely there without him.
She missed his voice, she missed his touch, the way he carried her with his arms wrapped around her. She missed having him in the same room with her. Missed knowing he was there for her. All that was over, she told herself. She lay on the couch listening to the sound of his car pulling away. She looked around her living room and a tear trickled down her cheek.
The silence was unbearable. Since she’d lived alone for years and had never been bothered by silence before, or by loneliness, she had to wonder what was wrong with her. She cleared her throat, and the sound echoed through the empty rooms. The house was empty and so was she. It was the kind of emptiness that no food can fill. She knew because they’d stopped for lunch at a drive-in. She thought, this is what it must be like to lose one’s best friend. The tears and the emptiness, the utter bleakness of the future. A future without Rafik. She repeated to herself what she’d told Rafik. She had a life. She’d never looked for a man. Never felt unfulfilled, never yearned for a man in her life. No, she never had. Not until now.
He’d said he didn’t think it was possible to spoil her, but he had. She was spoiled. In two days she’d been spoiled and she feared it might be a permanent condition. He’d rescued her, he’d taken care of her, he’d kissed her and he’d fed her. Yes, he tried to seduce her, but when she’d told him how she felt, he’d respected her. Night fell and she buried her face in the cushion on the couch and fell asleep.
Rafik went to the office the next day, determined not to think about Anne quite as much as he had. She’d assured him she’d be fine, that she’d call if she needed anything, but it had been many hours since he’d dropped her off, and he hadn’t heard from her. When he saw his brother he told him what had happened over the weekend, excluding the part about Anne being a virgin and saving herself for marriage.
“So you did it, you took my advice,” Rahman said with a self-satisfied smile. “You spent the weekend romancing her.”
“Yes, you could say that, and now what am I supposed to do?” Rafik asked.
“That’s obvious. You’ve got to take care of her. She’s hurt, she’s wounded. She needs you,” Rahman said. “It’s a perfect opportunity to make yourself indispensable.”
“You think so? I’m not so sure. She’s got an independent streak. I’m afraid of stepping over the boundaries she’s set up. You should have heard what she said to me. She’s not looking for a man in her life. She’s not unfulfilled and she doesn’t need anyone, and that means me.”
“That’s perfect,” Rahman enthused, refusing to accept defeat. “She sounds like you. You’re made for each other. You can continue this affair without strings until you get tired of each other.”
Rafik winced at the word affair. “You’re forgetting about the parents and the pressure they’re putting on me to set a wedding date,” he said. “Mother even gave me a family ring to give to Anne.”
Rahman whistled between his teeth.
“So you see it’s not as easy as you think. In fact, I think I’m at a dead end. I’m going to have to bite the bullet and break off the engagement which never was an engagement, anyway. It will hurt Mother and Father, but they’ll get over it.” He pictured their faces the night of the gala ball, how they’d watched Anne and him from across the dance floor, how they’d beamed at him. He thought of his mother entrusting the ring to him, thinking he’d finally found the woman of his heart.
Maybe he had, but how did one know? He’d been fooled before. He was not going to take a chance again.
“They’ll get over it,” Rahman said. “But will you?”
“Me? I never wanted to get engaged and I certainly don’t want to get married. You of all people should appreciate that.”
“Never? You mean you’ll never get married?” Rahman asked.
“Who can say never?” Rafik said. “I only know how I feel now.” But even as he said the words he realized he didn’t know how he felt about marriage. All he knew was that right now he felt terrible. After only one weekend together, he missed her. He wanted to take care of her. Whether she wanted to be taken care of was the question. All he knew was that he had to see her.
“Hold down the fort,” he said to his surprised brother. “I’ve got matters to attend to.”
“Go for it,” his brother murmured as Rafik walked out of the office.
When Anne didn’t answer her front door, Rafik went around to the side and let himself in through the gate. When he saw her in her garden he was worried she’d disobeyed the doctor’s orders and had resumed gardening. Then he saw she was sitting on the bench surrounded by flats of plants in plastic containers with her leg propped up. She was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back and fastened with a band. But small tendrils had escaped and brushed against her temples. He couldn’t tell by the look on her face if she was glad to see him or not.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked. He knelt down next to her so he could look at it up close. It seemed more swollen and very discolored.
“It looks worse than it feels,” she said.
“You haven’t been walking on it, have you?”
“Not any farther than to this spot right here. But look.” She waved her hand at the plants stacked up around the garden. “These native plants were delivered while I was gone. I’d actually forgotten how many I’d ordered. I should be planting them right now, but…”
“No, absolutely not,” he said.
“I know, I know. It’s so frustrating. I need to get them in the ground.” She sighed. “I have so much work to do here. The summer is half over, my bird-watchers’ group is meeting here in two weeks. I’ve told them about my garden and they’re coming to see what you can do to attract birds to a garden in the city without using flowers which I’m allergic to. I thought I’d have a lot done by then, but now….”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” he said.
“The bird-watchers will but the plants won’t,” she said. “They need to get established.”
“Can I help?” he asked.
She looked him up and down, taking in his tailored suit and immacula
te shirt and matching tie. “I don’t think so.”
“I have other clothes,” he said.
“I’m sure you have none suitable for getting down on your knees in the dirt.”
“Don’t be too sure,” he said. But she was right. He had nothing like that. But he could get some.
“Moreover, you don’t have the time. Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Rahman can handle the work. It’s good for him to have some responsibility. I’ll just go get the proper clothes.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Rafik, I can’t impose on you this way. The plants can wait.”
“You just said they need to get established.” But Rafik was thinking more about himself than the plants. Compared to his office, this place offered solace and peace. More importantly, it offered a chance to spend more time with Anne in her garden. Also the smell of the lavender and of the damp earth satisfied something inside him he didn’t know existed. Something very basic. He was beginning to realize why Anne was attracted to the soil. Maybe he’d even come to understand why she liked getting her hands dirty.
“Of course you’ll have to tell me what to do,” he said. “I’ve never done any gardening.”
Before she could protest again, he left the garden. In the car he called Rahman and told him what needed to be done at the office.
“Wait a minute,” Rahman said. “I’m on my way to lunch.”
“This was your idea,” Rafik reminded him. “I’m counting on you to fill in for me.”
“For how long?” he asked.
“As long as it takes,” Rafik said.
Rahman agreed reluctantly and Rafik went to a neighborhood thrift shop. He had never been to one before. The customers gave him more than one curious look as he sifted through the racks of jeans and shirts. He didn’t want Anne to think he’d gone out and bought gardening clothes. He wanted her to think he’d simply gone home to change clothes. And that he was a regular guy and not a spoiled rich man.
He changed clothes in the small dressing room and gave himself a critical look in the mirror. He was pleased with the way the faded jeans fit him and the gray sweatshirt. He was pleased with everything except for the shoes. He needed some kind of sandals if he was to get the full effect and feel the dirt between his toes as Anne did. His next stop was a shoe store where he bought the kind of sturdy sandals he thought would be appropriate. He couldn’t help the fact that they were new and not used.
On his way back to Anne’s he picked up sandwiches and salads from a take-out shop. He’d been thoughtless not asking what food she needed. He was gratified by the look on Anne’s face when he returned. She didn’t say anything, she just looked him up and down, taking in the change in his appearance. She must have been surprised by his transformation, because obviously she’d never stopped thinking of him as a spoiled, rich sheik. But the clothes were only half the battle. Now that he looked the part, he had to be able to act the part as well, show her he could do what, in his country, only servants did.
After lunch in the garden, he began the job of digging, planting and watering, according to Anne’s instructions. She was uncomfortable giving orders, at least at first. He had to admit he was a little uncomfortable getting them, too. He made mistakes. He uprooted some miners’ lettuce, which he’d never heard of, thinking it was a weed. He trampled on a fern. But they settled into a routine. She’d point to a new plant and decide where to put it. He’d dig a hole and plant it. Then he’d surround it with fertilizer and mulch and water it.
At the end of the afternoon he wiped his brow and sat down next to her on the bench. He was tired, but it was a good feeling. Almost as good as the feeling he had after a few sets of handball.
“My mother told me you want to get married in your garden,” he said.
“Oh, well, I was just, you know, talking off the top of my head. I have no intention…” She turned her head so he couldn’t see her face, but not before he noticed her cheeks had turned pink.
“Why not?” He looked around. “The trellis would serve as the altar.”
“I suppose it could, but I’m not getting married. I only said that because she asked me. I had to come up with something. I certainly couldn’t picture getting married in the cathedral like Carolyn.” She cleared her throat. “I can’t thank you enough, Rafik. You’ve been so much help,” Anne said.
He got the distinct impression she was trying to dismiss him. But he wasn’t ready to be dismissed. “It looks like there’s a lot more to do,” he said.
“It can wait,” she said.
“Why should it?” he asked. “I can come back tomorrow. That is if you want me to.”
“Well of course, but…”
“Now let’s see what’s in that freezer of yours for dinner. All that work has made me hungry.”
Before she could protest, he swooped her up in his arms and carried her into the house. He paused in the doorway and looked into her eyes. “I just want you to know,” he said, “that if I ever did get engaged with the intention of getting married…”
“You don’t have to explain,” she said, cutting him off as if she didn’t want to hear the end of the sentence. “I know how you feel. The next step is to get ourselves unengaged.”
“Let’s not talk about that until after you get back on your feet,” he said. “In the meantime…” He trailed off without finishing his sentence. He knew what he wanted to do in the meantime. She was so close, her lips were only inches away, tempting him, torturing him. She was so warm, so soft, she smelled so sweet, like the fresh air in the garden. There was something in her eyes he’d never seen before. He would have called it seduction if he didn’t know better.
Whatever it was, he kissed her once. He could have sworn that lightning struck, despite the fact there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She tightened her arms around his neck and kissed him back. This time it was thunder roaring in his ears.
It could have been gratitude that made her kiss him, but it wasn’t that kind of kiss that said thank you. It was the kind that said kiss me again. So he did. Again and again until he staggered to the couch and fell back with her in his lap. She tasted just as good as the last time he’d kissed her, the night before he’d rescued her, but different. Something had changed.
She raked her hands through his hair and he shuddered.
“For a virgin,” he said hoarsely, “you’re a very sexy woman.”
She blushed furiously. But a tiny smile tilted one corner of her mouth. A knowing smile that said she was aware of herself as a woman, a sexy woman at that. He hoped he’d had something to do with the change in her. Because she had changed. Whether she knew it or not, she was not the same woman he’d taken home from the wedding.
When he finally, reluctantly disentangled himself from her and propped up her ankle, he went to the kitchen to heat something for dinner, another thing he had scarcely ever done before in his life. There had been no need. There was always a restaurant, a food service, a hotel or a servant. But tonight he wanted to prove once again that he was not what she thought he was. Not what he once was.
He was amply repaid for his efforts by the wide-eyed look of surprise on her face when he appeared in the living room with two plates of food. Surprise and delight. He wanted to surprise and delight her every night. So he did, every night that week. With different dishes he ordered and had delivered, or prepared from what she had in her freezer.
When he insisted on returning day after day, Anne only managed a weak protest. When Rafik decided to do something, it was difficult to stop him. She should be grateful he was helping her so much. She was grateful. But she was worried, too. Worried that when it was over, and it would be over before long, she was going to suffer. Suffer more than she’d ever suffered before.
Because she’d fallen in love with him. Fallen in love with a sheik. It was so absurd it was ridiculous. She, an elementary schoolteacher who’d never had a ball gown, or attended a gala or mixed in high society, who’d never even had a s
erious boyfriend, much less a fiancé, was in love with a handsome, wealthy sheik. A man who had no intention of getting married to her or anyone.
She hadn’t fallen in love with him because he was rich and handsome, she’d fallen in love with him because he was kind and thoughtful, intelligent, humorous and good company. As if it made any difference. It was hopeless. She knew it. He knew it, too. Though he didn’t know how she felt, unless he was a mind reader.
She didn’t know how much longer she could keep it a secret. If he stayed around planting in her garden much longer, she was going to have to be more careful. No kisses, no touching, no lingering looks. The best thing was to break off the engagement as soon as possible. He’d said he didn’t want to talk about it until she was back on her feet. She prayed her recovery wouldn’t take that long. But from the looks of her ankle today, she was worried.
As he worked with her day after day that week, she grew increasingly anxious. The more she saw of him, the more they worked together on the garden project, the closer she felt to him. She knew it was going to be hard to let him go, but she knew it was inevitable. By the end of the week both the garden and her ankle looked much better.
They were sitting at her kitchen table eating a dinner he’d put together as if they were an ordinary couple. His shirt was covered with grass stains. He looked nothing like the groomsman she’d spotted staring at her in the church the day of Carolyn’s wedding. He looked like an ordinary man. But he was far from ordinary. Though she was able to walk now, he insisted on making her dinner and waiting on her. But that wasn’t why she was so terribly, impossibly, madly in love with him. It was who he was and it was who she was when she was with him. She was having so much trouble keeping her love from showing, it made her heart hurt, if that was possible.