Beckham

Today, the Eid celebrations began. Sully went to his Mosque this morning to break the fast, and we followed that with breakfast burritos from Roberto’s before work. The cafeteria was decorated festively, and the food stations were heavily Middle Eastern, although there were still some burger and sandwich stations for those who didn’t want to participate.

We sat at large tables in the middle of the room, with Nev, Matt, Reina, the entire Society, and Aqeelah. Sully’s friends were nearby, although some didn’t look happy when he passed by their table. Halfway through the meal, Dylan and Ellie’s parents arrived. They flew in to celebrate with Nev. I wish my parents were here with Sully, but when I called them, they thought it best to stay home.

Tonight, we are going to a big celebration at Nev and Dylan’s house. Stella found me a Middle Eastern inspired gown, because I didn’t want to offend anyone by wearing something traditional. If it was just Nev and Sully’s family, we’d be in the sarees or the beautiful shirt dresses over pants normally worn, but Sully invited his friends and their families. They barely tolerated me over the last two days, so I didn’t want to push my luck by wearing something offensive.

My gown has lace straps, and a lace overlay over a satin top, leaving only lace from ribs to hips. The skirt is full, with sheer ice blue fabric, draping asymmetrically over lace, over satin. It’s beautiful, and as I leave my hair in big curls, I feel beautiful as well.

“Anti jamila,” Sully says when he sees me. “You are beautiful.”

“Shukraan.”

His eyes widen, and his smile is big. “Someone has been studying.”

“I just asked Nev how to say a few words.”

“You humble me. Every day, I am humbled by you.”

“It’s not intentional,” I tell him.

“Which is why it happens. Thank you.” He kisses me, then pulls back to look me over again. “We must go to the party, but I’d prefer to just celebrate at home.”

I reach for a gift bag, and hand it to him. “You can have your gifts now.”

“As can you,” he says, picking up a bag from the hallway.

“You first.”

He looks like a little kid at Christmas—and I guess this is the same for him—as he throws the tissue from the bag, and takes out the velvet jewelry box. Opening it, he smiles as he sees the traditional silver, linked bracelet inside. Nev told me about them, and I found one I thought he’d like.

“I love it.”

“There’s more.”

He pulls out the special edition of the Quran I found online, and the rookie cards Dylan and Sierra’s boyfriend, baseball player Joel Cruz, gave me. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Thank you will do.”

“Thank you. Open yours now.”

I do, pulling out the biggest jewelry box first. Opening it, I find a gorgeous statement necklace. It’s an elaborate choker, made up of silver and diamonds. Lots of silver and diamonds. I wish I could wear it right now, but it wouldn’t look okay with my dress.

“I’m going to buy something to wear this with. It’s beautiful.”

“I don’t care what you pair it with, but I’m planning on taking you out with that on.”

“I can’t wait.”

Next, I pull out some beautiful, dangling silver earrings, which I can definitely wear with this dress. I swap out the simple ones I have in, and earn a lingering kiss for it. Finally, I pull out a first edition of my favorite book.

“Thank you for everything. I love it all.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling me back into his arms.

“We have to go.”

“Later.”

“Yes, later.”

The party is in full swing when we arrive, and I love seeing everyone dressed up. Sully and I pass out the small gifts we brought for everyone we don’t know well. They are bracelets with the word “Allah” on them in Arabic. Most of his friends have brought me little gifts as well. Earrings, bracelets, and from Jana, an English version of the Quran.

“Thank you so much.”

“Will you read it?” Ahmet asks, seeming to challenge me.

“Yes, of course.”

“Beckham bought me a beautiful special edition as one of my gifts,” Sully tells them, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Sully, stop monopolizing Beckham!” Nev yells, making me laugh.

I look over to where she’s sitting with their mother, Ellie, Reina, and Dylan and Ellie’s mother. “I think I’m being summoned.”

“It appears so. I’ll come get you soon.”

“Okay.”

He kisses me again, wrapping his arms completely around me this time. It doesn’t last long, because we’re not interested in being called out again. Or, at least, I’m not.

“Eid Mubarak,” I say, greeting the women as I join them. They greet me back, and I take the open seat they’ve saved for me.

“You look beautiful,” Aqeelah tells me.

“Thank you. I love your saree. And you look gorgeous, Nev.” Her shirt dress is a pale orange with gold embroidery. Gold bottoms complete her look, along with gold flats.

“I need to wear these more often,” she says. “I always feel like I should be in a gown.”

“I would totally wear something like that if I had to dress up.”

“Why did you not?” Aqeelah asks me.

I can tell she really wants to know, so I tell her the truth. “I was afraid of insulting Sully’s friends. Sometimes I think I offend them merely by breathing.”

“Then, they are not truly his friends.”

“He doesn’t see it that way,” I tell her, looking over to where he’s laughing and joking with them.

“Stay strong, my dear. He’s blinded by this quest of his, but he will see the truth.”

I hope so. I am genuinely happy as I open my gift from Nev, a silver necklace with my name in Arabic. I put it on right away. Aqeelah’s gift to me is a beautiful saree, made of shimmering dark blue fabric, with silver accents. It’s beautiful, and modern, and I wish I could change right now.

“It’s so gorgeous. I don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s enough that you like it.”

“I love it, and I can’t wait to wear it. Thank you.”

My other gifts that night pale in comparison, because I know it’s more than just a physical gift; Aqeelah is accepting me as Sully’s girlfriend. I want to know her, and I want to know why her husband isn’t here, but I’ll have to wait for my questions and answers. Tonight is about celebrating.

I soon find myself alone, when everyone else moves off to get food, or find their husbands and boyfriends. Looking around for Sully, I find him already eating with his friends. There is no seat for me at his table, and I realize his mother’s approval is only important if we’re together. That seems to shift hour by hour, and day by day. I don’t know how to change that, or deal with it, but unless I walk away from him, I’ll have to accept this as my life. Right now, that means grabbing some food, and finding a place away from everyone to eat it.

* * *

Sully

I’m hallway through my first plate of food when I look over to see the group of women is gone. Looking around, I see everyone except Beckham. It takes me another minute to realize there’s no room for her at this table, and that we could’ve taken over a table with more room.

I stand up, because I need to make sure she’s still here. “Where are you going?” Muska asks, placing her hand on my arm.

“I need to find Beckham.”

“Why must you run after her? She could join you here.”

“Where? Where is there a seat for her?”

Omar is the one to answer. “We should’ve made a spot for her. I am sorry, Sully.”

“As am I.”

Making my way through the large backyard, I see her nowhere. I poke my head into the pool house, despite the bad memories it contains, but she isn’t there either. When I finally find her sitting on the basketball court downstairs, I sigh in relief. Until I look at her before me.

Beckham looks defeated, the plate next to her still full of meat, rice, and pita bread. She doesn’t even react when I sit next to her, picking up her food. I’m allowed to feed her, and I watch her chew and swallow like my life depends on it.

“Talk to me, Beautiful.”

“I didn’t belong in your old life, and there’s no place for me in the new one, either.”

“Wherever I am, there is a place for you.” It’s the truth. One I haven’t been good at showing her, but the truth nonetheless.

“I know you want to believe that, but it’s not working out that way.”

“I get caught up in talking to them, in being around people I don’t have to hide from.”

“I know, and it’s why I’m trying so hard to support you. I’m trying not to feel slighted, or hurt, but I can’t always be strong.”

“You need to tell me when I’m wronging you. I will not see it as clingy, or interfering, I promise you that. I have been selfish for a very long time, and as hard as I try, I can’t just change overnight. I become engrossed in a conversation, or a meal, and block out the world around me.”

“If I have to tell you all the time, it’ll mean nothing.”

I’m not explaining this very well. “You won’t have to tell me all the time, because I learn from my mistakes.” She looks away, so I press her. “What?”

“It feels like you’ve replaced one group for another. Yes, this one is religious where the old one is debauched, but your behavior with them is similar.”

“I have done that, because I need my faith. I go all in on everything I do. I won’t apologize for that.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

Okay, I’m digging myself deeper. I take her face in my hands, and look her in the eyes. “Just give me a little time. I’ll settle in to what I’m doing, and stop trying to impress everyone.”

“You don’t need to impress anyone, but yes, I’ll give you time. I didn’t fly to Paris, just to give you up so easily.”

I pick up her plate, and standing, holding my hand out to her. “Let’s celebrate. I want to show you off to everyone out there, because I am so damn lucky I have you.”

“I’m lucky too. I know that, even if I seem ungrateful.”

“I don’t think you could ever be ungrateful, Beckham. You’re human, and you deserve to be treated properly.”

I make it my mission to do that for the rest of the day. I know I’m going to mess up, but I’m also going to be more mindful of how I treat this woman who has gone above and beyond for me. I dance with her, kiss her, and when she wants dessert, I take her over to that table with one seat, and pull her onto my lap as I feed her baklava, and cake.

I’m sure we’re getting some looks, but as I told her, I tend to focus on only one person, or thing at a time, and right now, it’s her. Beckham Williams has my heart, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t know it.