Serendipity - 18

I get excited that people are actually getting emotional about the characters! 
Please give me your feedback. Sorry that it took too long. My brain was just refusing to become creative. This is actually a forced writing, rather than one that flowed out...
Enjoy reading. 


Previously on Serendipity...

"You know, She's pretty and you're 24" she signaled way too obviously. 

He suddenly saw it all. It was Nouf. She was his solution to everything. She was pretty, too innocent, liked him and his family liked her too. Having a wife and kids would keep his mother's worries away. His wife will be busy with the kids and he could remain his lifestyle during his regular "business trips". Thats what a lot of his friends did too. She'll have all the money she needs, kids, a house, good family and i'll be there.... [sometimes], he assured his conscious that spoke up for the first time.

"Yes, she's pretty" he answered his mom with a smile.

____________________________________________________________________________

Nouf

We took the food and stocked it in the kitchen. Many cold nights will refrain us from going out i guess, especially if it started snowing and raining. So food is good company. To be honest, i don't usually care about where i travel, as long as i'm with the right company. With the right people, you enjoy everything. And that is exactly what we did, we spent our night munching on snacks, watching movies and laughing at old memories. Lojain told stories about how Haifa used to be in school and vice versa. The atmosphere was just light and refreshing right until sleep started to interfere. We called it a night only few hours before the sunrise. 

I opened my eyes as soon as the rays of sunlight started peeking into the room through the curtains. I can't sleep for long in new places no matter how comfortable the bed is. I called Lojain's name lazily to wake her up, but no response. I don't think any of them will wake up soon. I sat up stretching my hands to the roof, I won't waste a minute, the days are too short anyways, i motivated myself and my stomach growled in agreement. 

I searched my way through the kitchen's stock of food. Junk, junk and more junk. All the proper food is downstairs but i'm too shy to knock on their door, they might be asleep. And my mom isn't there. Sigh. I miss her and dad a lot. Its only been a day though. I fixed myself a cup of tea and called my mom.

As i was talking to my mom, i heard noises coming from outside. Slamming doors and sounds of people conversing but i can't tell who. I picked up my beanie to cover my hair, i was wearing bright red hoodie and sweatpants, and hurried to the door as soon as i ended the convo with mom. If i find the mothers awake i could find food, i smiled like a fat kid finding a humungous chocolate cake. Their apartment door was closed but this time i could hear the voices well. it wasn't from the apartment, it came from downstairs. 
Its not any of us, it was the Italian couple. 

"buongiorno," I said using the limited italian vocab i have as i spotted them in the lobby. 
They were a young couple, probably in their late twenties. The guy was Italian attractive. He is an evidence and proof to all the stereotypes and claims about Italian men. The woman was less attractive compared to her man but nevertheless she had that typical european beauty about her. They were standing casually infront of the main gate watching the road outside, though they didn't seem like they were leaving. 
"buongiorno Siniorina, come sta?" replied the woman excitedly putting me in an awkward situation. What do you reply, i forgot!
"I don't speak Italian," I replied shyly. 
"oh its okay, I Adriana" said the women as she stepped forward to shake my hand. "This my boyfriend, Massimo"
"I'm Nouf," I shook his hand as well.
"Where are you are from?" She asked curiously.
"Dubai," and the conversation started flowing from there. They've been in Istanbul for three days now and we talked about all the places to see here and i marketed Dubai as a destination. I bragged about my city like i own the place. 
"Good morning," came a familiar voice from behind minutes later. It was Butti coming to the lobby. I did not hear him coming downstairs. Apparently, he came down to check where the noises were coming from. Loud Arabs and loud Italians, not a great combo if someone is looking for peace. Butti joined the convo for a while before the couple excused themselves to leave as the shops started to open. 

My stomach growled in rebellion again, reminding me of the purpose that got me to the lobby in the first place. Gladly Butti did not hear it, or he chose to pretend he didn't, anyways i'm thankful.
"Why are you awake so early, I know my aunt, she wont leave before noon" He said. 
"Dunno," i shrugged. "You know new place... and i'm kinda hungry.." i admitted. 
"Me too," he glanced at his watch, "Come, my mom is awake I'll see if she'll join us for breakfast."

Apartment one's (mothers apartment) door was left ajar. We walked in to find Butti's mom in the living room sipping on some tea while watching Dubai Tv. They have Arabic channels here, thats convenient! I bet a lot of Khaleejis came here after all those Turkish series and then demanded this. Butti sat on the couch and folded his legs, "I want breakfast" he demanded with a bossy tone. His mom gave him a how-rude-of-you-my-little-boy kind of look, "chee t6lb mn umk?, no breakfast, serve yourself." she said in a very motherly tone. I know this tone, its the one mothers use to make their kids feel guilty. Butti started sweet talking to his mom to convince her to make him breakfast and all she did was ignore him. It was funny and adorable to watch. He landed his head on her lap and with a sad pout he started telling his mom who he didn't have anything to eat since last night. The devil! I could see the expression on his mother's face changing to become concerned. She'll get up any second. 

"I'm going to make myself scrambled eggs, i'll make some for Butti too while im at it khalo," I didn't know that i offered to cook until the words came out all of a sudden. "Do you want anything?" i added politely. 

"walla wanasah" said Butti smiling, "I dont want scrambled eggs, i want poached eggs, but dont make them runny, and some orange juice, we got beans too right, make some...." 
I stared at Butti bluntly. This guy is unbelievable. He takes advantage of every situation or what? I saw his mom slap him lightly on the head. 
"I'm sorry khalo, i take back my offer. Your son is unbelievable."
"He is, isn't he... let him starve, he can cook. Tell me, Nouf dear, what do you want? we'll make something together, how about french toast too?" she said pointing at her son with her chin. She wants to annoy him, i can see. 
"Yes! i bought berries too yesterday, we'll have them on the side" I smiled happily. This is fun. 
Butti looked at both of us in disbelief, "And your son?" he said as he held his mom's hand with both his hands.
"my son should behave" she said hitting his hand lightly and laughing. So adorable. I don't have a brother, so seeing this is quite different to me. I bet they are different than any other mother and son. There's a strong bond between them. "How about you go help Nouf prepare breakfast for us?" she offered as her phone rang. Her expression changed and i guess she wanted us to leave. An important phone call maybe? 
"if it means i wont starve," he said as he got up and kissed his mothers forehead. "yalla, come along chef."

Butti sat on the chair beside the kitchen's island watching me while i take out the ingredients of both the scrambled eggs with tomatoes and mushrooms and the french toast. 
"Aren't you going to help?" i looked at him. He looked a bit distant. "Are you ok?"
"I'm hungry, finish already" he replied as if it was the only thing on his mind, but i knew better. 
"I can't cook under stress," i rolled my eyes. "Here, cut those mushrooms in half" i handed it over and i started chopping the tomatoes into small pieces. 

When i finished, i glanced at Butti to find him still not done. He was cutting each piece slowly and carefully. And he says he can cook! Or maybe its a guy thing, they want quality and to be the best at what they're doing. 

But it was much simpler than that. 
As i reached over to grab the cutting board from him to finish cutting, he looked at me in guilt. "Its ok i'll finish this" he said reassuringly. I gave it up to him and went to get the pan and start cooking the eggs when he suddenly said, "My dad is not well, He's having a lot of back problems lately. she's talking to him right now but won't do it infront of me. She knows i'll argue with him to take him abroad for proper check ups. He insists that he doesn't need them. The problem is that i cant force him." He looked up at me, i'm sure my face looked very concerned, I know how it feels. "I don't even know why i'm telling you, i don't share things with people" he laughed, it sounded more as if he was thinking this than telling me. "But you seem to have this thing where you pull words out of people" he stood up to get the mushrooms to me. I think he means the "flanah" conversation. 
"Thank god, this means my black magic for trust works. All the money i paid didn't go to waste" i said jokingly. 
"How much does it cost to get a convince-a-stubborn-old-man magic?" he was stirring the eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms in the pan as i was getting the french toast ready. "Should i add salt and pepper chef?"
"yes," i answered. "It takes much less than magic. Make a deal with him, tell him you'll stop working or you won't get married or anything like that till he goes and gets his check up"
"I don't think it would work," he smiled weakly, but somehow i feel that he thinks that what i just said was one of the stupidest solutions. 
"I know you think its stupid, but try" 
"i didn't think that, but i know him, he's too stubborn to admit anything."
"ok, tell him you'll run away, or better, that you won't talk to him... what?! what are you smiling at like that, i'm serious!"
"i know you are," he laughed, "i was just thinking it would be easier to convince him if he had a daughter,"
"You don't deserve any advise" i turned around to finish up the breakfast and put it into plates. "take those to the living room" i handed him a couple of plates. 
"do you always just get mad like that?" he's still laughing, i dont think its funny. "ok, ok im going." 

==

After breakfast, Butti looked less concerned. I think food makes him in a better mood. I left to apartment two (ours) to wake up the girls but all i got was get out and close the door. My way of waking people up is singing. It works all the time, but not now. The cold weather just adds to their laziness. Its true, all you want to do in winter is eat and sleep. The apartment phone rang, it was Butti's mom.
"Any luck?"
"No they're all still asleep, bs Maryam took some Panadol and slept again. I think she got the flu" i heard her shouting over the phone to Maryam's mother telling her that her daughter isn't feeling well. "Nouf, I'm going out to the old souk, you want to come? Maryam's mother will stay since you said Maryam is tired" I agreed instantly. I didn't come here to stay indoors alone. if they were awake i wouldn't mind. 

I changed into less casual clothes, applied mascara and some light pink lipstick. I took a proud look at myself in the mirror. I look good, i smirked and headed downstairs. 

Soon enough we were on our way. Butti, his mother and I. Fares's mom loves to leave after noon. She always believes that mornings are not meant for shopping, they should be spent in a comfortable place. She said something about going to a Turkish Bath Spa later. Haifa and Lojain would love that. No one seemed to mention Fares. I wonder if he's going to join us later or spend his holiday meeting up with his friends like last night. 

The taxi driver dropped us at the Grand Bazaar. I breathed in and looked around as soon as we stepped into the bazaar. It was phenomenal to all the senses. If you closed your eyes, you could hear the singing of the birds outside, the clicking of cups, the overlapping voices of people bargaining intertwining to create altogether a musical appeal. It was not noise. It was the sound of people being alive, going by in their day minding their own business. Some actually won't mind their business and harass you by calling you to come see their products over and over again. You could barely hear this type of interaction in malls today. Your eyes would then just wonder around trying to rest on one of the billion things that surround you, whether its the stained glass lights, carpets, jewelry or even antiques. We passed by the jewelry first. I was so taken by it. 

At first, i thought that going out with Butti's mother might be a little awkward, i know myself well, but to my surprise we clicked well. She wasn't like her sister, who is more serious and uptight, but more like Butti. Always up for a laugh and makes conversations flow easily. I also found out that she's one really reaaaaally good bargainer, she'd drop prices more than 60% down when buying. The funny thing is Butti would feel so ashamed that his mother would bargain, "Just get it, its just 10 dirhams difference.. ufff". But i guess it has always been a woman's skill to bargain, not that of a man. He didn't enter most of the shops but stood outside and looked at the items displayed carefully assessing their quality.

A few hours later, as Butti's mother and I were strolling through one of the shops in the antiques section i spotted a nearby cafe."Khalo, i'll go get something to drink from the opposite shop and comeback." 

As i left the shop i spotted Butti on the other side talking to a westerner man. He was really tall and broad. They were having what seemed like a friendly conversation. Probably a tourist that was left outside because his girl is shopping, i thought to myself. Poor men. 
As I left the cafe with my order of two hot chocolates to go, to keep us warm, i spotted another western man walking towards Butti. There was something sneaky about him that i didn't like. Maybe he's a thief, there are many pick-pocketing action around here. 

It wasn't that though, Butti looked uncomfortable too. I walked towards him instead of walking back to the shop. As soon as i stopped beside him i sensed the tension in the air, he knew those people. He turned around to see me, i gave him the hot chocolate, which i originally bought for his mom, and smiled.
"Thanks love," i didn't know if what i heard was what i really heard. Is it? "Nouf, those are Keith and Nathan" he added pointing at the guys in front of him, "This is Nouf, my fiance."


Whaaat?
my fiance, my fiance, my fiance, my fiance.. were the words that echoed in my mind.