Meena's hands shook as she tried to put the blue thread through the needle's eye. She had been at it for over ten minutes. Which was surprising for this was the very thing that got her into sewing in the first place. 

She let out a loud hiss and sat up. What was up with her today? It definitely couldn't be her first meeting with Architect Badr Damilare Abdulqadir, which was two hours away, because if it was, she wouldn't have been able to come to work. She could've stayed at home and helped her mother prepare. But funny enough, there wasn't much to prepare as it was a low-key meeting, no representatives involved. Just the two families. 

And she wasn't nervous at all. Just neutral. In fact, everyone was, except her mother of course, who had been smiling non-stop, even when Bushra almost broke her favorite glass set–reserved for guests only–she didn't complain. 

Meena sighed again and straightened the fabric in front of her. She wanted to be excited; she wanted to be enthusiastic. At least, based on the many wonderful things she had seen of the Architect on social media: from his humanitarian gesture of building an Islamiyah in his village, to sponsoring five children among his relatives to school. Meena admired generous men, like her father. But it wasn't just generosity that drew her to Nur, it was something else, something deep, she couldn't explain it even if she tried to. She just hoped the Architect had it too, at least, enough for her to forget Nur. 

Thirty minutes later, after finally putting the thread in the needle and sewing a skirt out of the fabric. Meena and Bushra closed an hour before the usual time. On their way out of the busy market, pushing past other customers, avoiding collision with motorcycles and getting splashed with the various sizes of water puddles on the sandy floor, Bushra asked her, "Aunty Meena?" 

"Hmm? "

" Is it true that one man is coming to visit?"

Meena frowned, "Why are you asking, shebi Ummi already told you?”

" Eh but, she didn't tell us why he was coming."

"Ehe, so no need to tell you then." Meena shrugged, then shook her head at a boy who was wagging a handful of colorful bathing sponges in her face. 

"Ah, but it's not good o. Shebi we're also women?"

Meena guffawed. She tapped Bushra's shoulder. "You and who?" 

Bushra refused to look at her, "We're sha not children."

They arrived at the junction. There were two white buses offloading passengers. Meena headed for the second bus which had more free space. As she was about to enter, the conductor said in a loud voice, "Alhaja, hold your change o." 

Meena replied, "E ma worry, I have N100 with me." As she settled beside a dozing woman in the second row, followed by Bushra, the conductor peeked inside, his watery eyes bulging against his sweat streaked forehead. "

" Ah no, na 150 you go pay o." 
Meena gaped at him,  "As in how, na just two of us na. And na for gate you go drop us. 

" No matter o. Fuel don cost." 

The man in front of Meena piped in, "Ah ah, conductor, for this small girl?" 

"Which kain, see as she round like spare tyre. She don take two seats o."

Meena felt Bushra freeze. She knew how insecure her younger sister felt about her size. Squeezing her hand in reassurance, Meena glared at the conductor, who had gone out to call other passengers. She tugged at Bushra's hand, "let's go."

"Ah, why?" 

Meena stares down at her. "I have only N150 to give him. Besides, our money is N100.

"No p, I have 50 naira." Bushra tapped the pocket of her skirt. 

"No, we're not paying.” She shook her head and rose from her seat. 

"Don't worry, Aunty. It's not a big deal." She smiled. 

Meena paused, "Are you sure?" 

Bushra nodded, her eyes pinched at the edges. It was a real smile. 

As Meena sat, Her phone rang in her purse. It was their mother. She sighed as the bus engine revved up, ready to move. She returned the phone. 

"You'll not pick?"

"I'm sure it's not important. We're already moving, she won't be able to hear me." She shrugged. 

"Then let me-"

The phone rang again. The sisters exchanged a look before Meena handed it to Bushra.

"Placing the speaker against her mouth, Bushra said, "Assalamu alaikum, Ummi."

She listened. “Yes we're on the way." Then she turned to Meena, eyes widened, "Oh, he's there already?" 

Meena sat up in surprise. That's not possible. 

“Okay, we're coming. In sha Allah.” She ended the call. 

Meena collected the phone and checked the time: 11: 25 a.m. “ But the meeting was 12 na.”

Bushra shrugged. "Maybe he finished work on time. 

But when they got home, they found out that it wasn't true. He said since he saw your picture, he has been eager to meet you." Fadilah told Meena as she rummaged through her wardrobe for an attire to wear. 

"That's em… nice?" Meena replied, holding up a black turtle neck. Then she felt her mother behind her. She turned around to see her smiling widely. 

"I'm so proud of you." She whispered. 

Meena smiled back. 

Fadilah nodded at the wardrobe, "the blue dress." 

Meena’s smile faded. She shook her head. That was Nur's favorite color on her. "I don't feel like wearing blue."

"Why not, that's what he's wearing too."

She blinked in surprise," Really?" 

Fadilah bobbed her head, "He'll like it." She said and strolled out, leaving Meena to wonder: And so? 

When she finally stepped out through the backyard door in the blue dress, she regretted putting it on. Why please a stranger?

As she walked, she looked down at her flat slippers, hoping her height wasn't too ominous and that the puffy shoulder of the dress didn't make her look too broad. 

As she approached him sitting on a plastic chair under the tree, head down, eyes on his phone, she paused and blinked, overtaken by a sense of dejavu. She quickly shook her head. No time to waste. 

She stopped by her seat across from him and greeted, "Assalamu alaikum," 

Without raising his head, he said, "Wa alaikum salaam. You're late." 

Meena scrunched her face, "No I'm not, the meeting was supposed to be by 12."

He finally rose his head, one bushy brow raised," it doesn't matter. You should've been ready before then."

“I went to work.”

“So did I.” He folded his thin arms around his skinny chest. Meena stared at his round head, not sure whether to argue further or just smile. She chose the latter. "I'm sorry then," She sat down. 

He just stared, walnut shaped eyes watching her warily. Meena cleared her throat and looked away, instantly witnessing the slow fall of a leaf onto the wet graveled floor. 

"I'm sure you know who I am." he said. 

She turned to him in surprise. "Em, yes. But just your name."

He tilted his head, “only?"

Meena tried not to sigh in frustration. “You’re an architect."

He scoffed and licked his protruding bottom lip." And?"

Was this guy serious? "Look I don't see-" 

"Assalamu alaikum." Fadilah came up behind her in a sweet song voice, carrying a tray containing two bottle of  drinks and a covered flat plate. She placed it on the stool between them. "Architect Badr, I hope you're enjoying yourself." 

Meena rolled her eyes, only to catch him staring at her, smiling. "Yes, I am." he said. 

"Masha Allah." Fadilah clapped, startling Meena. "And you my dear?" Meena found her smile unsettling. She nodded. 

After Fadilah left, Meena opened her mouth to speak, but Badr held up his hand. "Before you say anything, I just want to say…" 

Meena eyed him. What now? 

"Congratulations." He smiled widely, opening his arms. 

"I don't understand."

He dropped his hands, "Okay, the whole thing was just a test. I was just messing with you to see how you'd react."

"Uh, I'm confused." 

Badr folded his arms, "My rudeness was just an act. I'm not like this." He rotated his hand around his face. 

Meena nodded, "Oh. So this was just a joke to you." She couldn't hide the disappointment on her voice. 

"A test. And you passed so…" he smiled again, revealing a set of straight teeth, two crooked by the side like fangs. "Let's do this again. Okay?" 

Meena blinked in confusion. "I don’t understand.”

" Okay, um," He looked down and rubbed his hands together. When he looked up, Meena was shocked to see the translucent brown of his eyes. 

"I'm sorry for the way things began. Truth is, I was just messing with you. It's kind of what I do." He shrugged. "But I didn't realize you'd take offense."

Meena opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Was this guy real? She wondered." I'm not angry o. Just surprised I guess. You weren't what I expected."

He chuckled, "Same here. You look taller in person."

Meena blanched. Taller? Despite her efforts to hide it?! 

"Almost my Ummi's height. She'd freak if she sees you."

Meena laughed, out of relief and surprise that he said 'freak'. " You attended the University of
Madinah, aren't you supposed to be like…" She waved her hand at his face. 

He rubbed his clean jaw, "What? Have a long beard and be chanting Subhanallah every second?" He laughed, mouth open wide. 

Meena found herself smiling. "Well, I expected you to be gentle."

"Who said I wasn't?" He shot her a challenging look. 

Meena shook her head, "So your Ummi is tall?" 

He smiled and nodded slowly. 

"And you call her Ummi?"

"Yep, the Maami for when she's angry with us."

She guffawed, "We do that too!" 

He nodded, "So, want to start over?" 

She stopped smiling. Start over? Did she want that? She couldn't help but like his first impression, it made him easy not to like. But now… she wasn't sure anymore, but she was curious. 

"Em, I guess?"

He rose one brow and folded his arms, "You guess? come on, make up your mind."

"I really don't know." She admitted. 

"Would you like to, then?"

She smiled, "I honestly don't know." 

"I do."

"Really? Tell me."

"You want to, but something is holding you back."

Meena froze. What was he, a psychic? 

They gazed at each other for a while, one challenging the other to back down. Meena wasn't sure what game they were playing, but she liked it. 

"Okay, I give up." She looked away and sat back. 

He smiled triumphantly. "That means I decide what we do next."
She frowned," Says who?"

"Me," He sat up and leaned forward. "I really want to start over. I'd like to know you better." 

Meena returned his gaze. She cleared her throat. "No problem."

He sat back, satisfied." Shukran. So, Assalamu alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh ya ukhtee, ismi Badr AbdulQadr, aka Abu Talha."

Meena pressed her lips to avoid the laugh bubbling up. He was serious after all. 

"Wa alaikum salaam warahmatullahi wabarakatuh. Marhaban akhee, ismi Ameena Lawal aka
Umm…" She faltered, just realizing she hadn't assigned a qunya for herself. She cleared her throat to hide her embarrassment. "Umm Salaam." She said in a small voice. 

He rose one brow, eyes teasing. "You mean AbduSalaam?" 

She nodded. 

He sat back. "Masha Allah. So Ummu Abd Salaam. Kai fa halik–how are you?" 

Sighing in relief, she smiled and gave him a reply. Perhaps this wouldn't be bad after all. 

...
Uh, okay...

Are you also happy for Meena?

And what do you think about Badr?

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