“Don’t you want to see it?” It’s Dawud with a huge smile on his face.
“Yeah. I’ll come in a bit.”
“Janna! You gotta see it going up!” Haytham yells as they make their way down the aisle between the chairs to the gazebo.
Tats nods and pulls my hand. Then she leans in to whisper, “I got your back. I’ll block your vision of the dude. Let’s go see it.”
Ugh.
I follow Tats to the gazebo, where one of the hired hands is setting up two ladders. Haytham and Nuah, still holding the net low, are discussing how they’re going to affix it, and, after looking up to assess things, they send Dawud to go get a step stool from the kitchen so that he can stand on it and pass them zip ties.
As soon as they lift the floral creation up to check where to center it, and we see the full glorious effect of it, Tats and I exchange glances.
It’s just so ridiculously, ecstatically joyous. That’s the only word for it.
Paper flowers of different sizes, their petal edges curling inward from the weight of the paint but looking naturally so, intermixed with real flowers, amid lots and lots of foliage. A riot of happiness, sprouting unabashedly.
It turned out the opposite of tacky. It turned out sincere.
I imagine Muhammad and Sarah looking at each other while committing to love each other forever and ever, under the joyful flowers, and I feel moved.
My brother is getting married. He’s deciding to take this huge, confident step.
Is this why people cry at weddings?
I abruptly turn to the lake, the emotions swirling in me.
It hits me that Muhammad is the closest person to me—in terms of really understanding the particulars of my life. And I know the parts of his life no one else does.
He’s the only one who knows what it feels like to live in that space between loving Mom and Dad, separately.
Is that why he always checks on me? And looks out for me? Because he knows what it feels like too—even though he doesn’t show it?
But do I do that back for him?
Tears start falling, and I can’t believe the amount of times I’ve cried this weekend. But I’ve just realized that people cry at weddings, yes, because of happiness, but also because they represent a life change, and part of that life change is that my brother’s not going to be as close to me anymore. He’s leaving our family for a new life.
Tats puts an arm around me and leans her head on my shoulders. “I’m sorry I made you come to see it.” She straightens her head and points at Dad in the distance directing the photographer and crew. “Also, can I get him accidentally with my ponytail? While I’m walking by?”
I can’t stop the chortle that escapes on hearing that. Tats is just the back-to-earth balm I always need. “Tats, I’m glad I’m here. I actually want to help them put it up.”
She looks puzzled. “You know your face is all splotchy, right? Bro’s going to know you’re crying over him.”
“I’m not crying over him. I helped make those flowers. I just want to make sure it’s done properly.” I turn around and see they’ve laid the floral ceiling faceup in the middle of the gazebo floor while Haytham and Nuah are on the ladders measuring. “Let’s see if my dad’s got more ladders somewhere. It’ll be easier to put it up if there’s more of us up there.”
“I thought you were hiding from your dad.”
“I just need to do this for Muhammad.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Once the floral ceiling is put up—with me, Tats, Haytham, and Nuah each working a corner—Dawud’s whole being changes. He’s exuding such great happiness that not only does he do a good job listening to all my directions about how to pass out the wedding favors to the guests, he also helps me train the laddoos. After many demonstrations from Dawud, Logan understands that he can’t open the boxes “carefully” for people, and Luke understands that he’s not to eat the treats himself. They understand that, as soon as I hand them their baskets, they’re to pass them out row by row with a smile when Amu finishes his sermon and says “Mabrook!” to the bride and groom. Once we practice with invisible, pretend favors, I let them practice with the real thing, giving some out to the people still milling around doing last-minute things.
The florist, Hope, setting out the vases on the tables near the lake, takes her favor and smiles at Dawud. “You actually did it. You made your own floral ceiling.”
“Yup.” He rises on his tiptoes like the smile that’s taking over his face is making him float, and then drops his heels back down.
“I’ve never met a kid who’s so fascinated by flowers. Can I ask how you got into them?” Hope asks.
“Because in school, my group had to make a field guide to all the flowers near our school. Other groups made field guides to other things, like birds or rocks, but my group made a flower one. And I was in charge of counting all the different ones,” Dawud says proudly. “So I know a lot. I like finding the differences between them.”
Wow. I hadn’t even bothered asking him why he was so flower crazy. It’s classification. Like how he knows all the Pokémon species and their traits.
“Well, you’re a smart kid. And paper flowers were a genius idea!” Hope opens her box of favors and picks out a candied almond and pops it into her mouth. “Might need to hire you to work at the store.”
“I don’t live here,” Dawud says solemnly.
“Shucks!” She looks at me. “Okay to borrow him to help me right now? If he wants to, that is?”
“Sure! He knows his part for the wedding.” I turn to Dawud. “Just make sure to meet me at the guest sign-in table when my uncle starts talking in the gazebo, okay? And remember Haytham said for you to come to the house to shower and change at four.”
He nods and takes a step toward Hope, who indicates the jars of flowers in the box at her feet. “There’re numbers on the vases. Just match them to the numbers on the tables.”
“Okay.” He picks a vase up as I turn to go, with Luke attached to me at the hip because he suddenly decided he’s tired. “She did the paper flowers. Janna did them,” Dawud says.
“What was that?” Hope’s already moved on to other tables, with vases in both her hands.
“Janna did the flowers,” Dawud repeats, louder. “Because she was mean to me before so then she decided to be nice.”
The only thing I can do is laugh.
Because maybe it’s kinda true.
* * *
Before we get ready, Tats and I take a rest in my room, painting each other’s nails (black for me, gold for Tats), and then catch up on messages and socials.
I open a pic that Soon-Lee sent me and shriek. It’s a photo of her and Thomas holding up their clothes for the wedding, and it’s the cutest thing ever: They’ve colored their hair to match each other’s outfits. Soon-Lee now has hair the same sage green as Thomas’s tie, while his hair is lavender like her dress.
Tats looks at the snaps of them I hold up for her and then shows me the pic she took of Jeremy dressed up when they went shopping for his clothes.
He looks good, and I say so to Tats, which makes her lower her phone and say, “Uh-oh, I kinda just had a conscience thing happen right now.”