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Eight
The worst week of her life was finally over and just in time for the holidays. Charla slowly climbed the stairs to her front door, exhausted despite four days doing nothing but lying in bed watching really bad daytime television. Never felt more like Mama in my life, she thought as she shoved her key in the door and pushed it open. “Home sweet home,” she sighed and pushed her way inside.
“What in the heck?” Her house was clean. No, not just clean, it was spotless. When she left for the hospital her house had been decidedly not spotless. The kitchen was clean too, spotless with fresh fruit on the counter and groceries in the fridge. “Rabi,” she groaned. “Sweet girl doesn’t listen for nothin’.” A smile spread across her face, the first real smile she’d had in at least a week. Maybe more. She absently rubbed at her belly, which had popped slightly sometime while she was busy wearing hospital couture.
“If I listened to you then you’d just try to do everything on your own, stubborn girl.”
She turned only to be met with the powerful impact of Rabiya’s full smile. “It’s what I’m used to but thank you.” Tears of gratitude shimmered in her eyes and she pulled her friend in for a hug, forgetting to be mindful of her growing midsection. “You’re sweet,” she told her and stepped back.
Her friend frowned as they separated. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Because Charla the things I’m thinking have me going out of my mind.”
Her shoulders sank. “I can’t.” She wished there was someone she could share this news with, share her fears with because she really—really—needed to talk to someone about it all. But this child would be her niece or nephew and asking her to keep this from her brother would be asking too much. “I really can’t and I’m sorry Rabi.”
“I knew it!”
She frowned. “Knew what?” Charla didn’t think that quick hug gave her any real information but the rapid drumbeat of her heart was reminder enough that she needed to tread carefully.
“That you and Kasim love each other but you’re too stubborn to own up to it.” Her shoulders fell and Rabi’s keen eye missed nothing. “Or is there more?”
Charla yawned. It was a bad fake yawn and they both knew it but she was determined to stick with the charade. “Surprisingly being in bed all day is exhaustin’ and I think I’m gonna lie down.”
“Oh no you don’t. Get your butt back here Char, right now and tell me what’s going on?”
Charla sighed and trained her gaze on anything but Rabiya’s pretty face. She needed time to gather her thoughts and figure out what she would tell her. If anything. So she filled up her kettle and made preparations for tea. “Darjeeling or Earl Grey?”
“Charla,” she answered, her voice a warning.
“Look Rabi I would love to tell you, I really would. But I can’t and I need you to leave it at that.”
With a long drawn out sigh, Rabi’s gaze looked her over carefully and Charla knew she was taking in all signs of fatigue and sickness. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I will be,” she promised with as big a smile as she could muster. “So tell me how your meeting went?”
“So great!” Excitement returned and she told Charla all about it. “She’s the daughter of some soap star and wants me to throw her engagement party!” The press would be there along with other Hollywood types which she hoped would help her business.
“That’s great Rabi. I knew you’d make a solid run at this.”
She wrapped her arms around Charla from behind and they both froze. The jig was up, she felt it in her bones. “Uh Charla, I think you do need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.”
She sucked in a fortifying breath and let it out, turning terrified green eyes on her friend.
And told her everything.
* * *
“Ah so now your big plan comes to fruition,” Kasim growled from the door leading to the kitchen. “I was just beginning to think I was wrong about you, and you almost got me.” Shaking his head, feeling angry and proud at the same time, he didn’t move from his spot blocking the door. When Rabiya had told him of his impending fatherhood it had taken three days to calm down enough to approach the woman.
“Oh good because I was just wondering when I’d have to sit through another round of insults.” Arms crossed with a steaming mug in front of her, Charla looked the very picture of cool and calm. But Kasim saw the cracks, the tension around her eyes and mouth were a dead giveaway.
“I hope you didn’t think a fake pregnancy would ever get me to marry someone like you. Royal family trees are littered with bastards.”
“Obviously,” she shot back, pushing herself to a standing position. “I don’t recall asking you for a damn thing Kasim so you can turn around and go back the way you came.”
“And if I don’t? What will you do?”
Gripping her phone in one hand she leaned on the counter. “I will call the police and have you arrested for breaking into my home.” He smiled and took two steps forward when she brought the phone up to her face. “Yes I’d like to report an intruder.”
He froze and then realized this was part of her con. “Yeah right, and get your meal ticket put in jail?”
