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I crawled under the covers, twisting and turning to pull off my clothing.
“Why do you bother? I won’t look. Even if I did, I’ve seen everything,” he said.
“Well, you won’t be seeing it again.”
He let out a short bark of laughter.
“What was that supposed to mean?” I asked, struggling to pull on my—his—t-shirt.
“You think I don’t see that way you look at me?”
I nearly choked. “It’s hard not to stare at a peacock that’s always fluffing his feathers about, trying to garner attention.”
He opened his eyes and looked my way. “You mean by undressing for bed?”
“You fluff your feathers everywhere you go, just craving all the attention.”
Even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. He was oblivious to the looks he got, which made it almost worse. He wasn’t even working for them. They all just looked at him, the way I did, because they couldn’t help themselves. The only reason he’d probably noticed me gaping was to store it for ammo against me later.
This was the man I was going to be stuck with for the rest of my life? No way. After this marriage tomorrow, I was getting a divorce.
Chapter Thirteen
There was a knock on the bedroom door a second before Luisca popped her head in.
“We’re here to help you get ready,” she said. That was all the warning I had before five women, plus her daughters, swarmed in on me, laughing and giddy.
They tugged me out of bed, one handing me a cup of tea as they steered me toward the bathroom.
“We don’t usually use this bathtub, as you know, but it’s different for today.”
The water was steaming. They had to have lugged up buckets of boiling water for me.
“You shouldn’t have done this for me. I could’ve gone to the lake.”
“Nonsense. It’s your day. Now scrub up, and we’ll be waiting in your room with your dress to help you get ready when you’re done.” Luisca ushered the women and girls out.
“Oh, I’m good. I think I’ve got it under control. I was just going to wear one of the dresses you gave me,” I said, trying to follow her to the door.
“Oh, no, you can’t wear that. There’s traditions. There’s specific dressing for esposmata. No, no, no. Now go get ready!” She shut the door.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was holding on to it on the other side until she heard the water splashing.
Would I really be any worse if I wore the dress they picked? I sank into the hot water and stayed there until my fingers looked like raisins. I might’ve stayed until the meat fell off my bones, but I was sure they’d come and fetch me way before that happened.
They were all waiting. Luisca had a dress laid out on the bed, a slinky silver-gray fabric with a layer of pearls and silver threads hanging loose everywhere.
Luisca tugged at my towel and then tried to put my arms through the silver fabric.
“Wait, I don’t have any undergarments on.”
“You don’t wear any under this dress.”
She urged my arms through two sleeve holes, and I looked down at the gaping fabric that was hanging like a loose rag dropped over me. It wasn’t the most flattering thing ever, but the droopy gray matched my feelings about the day. Plus, this was the tradition.
Then they began to work on it, tying together all the loose silver strings that had been hanging. There had to be hundreds of them, and I stood watching as they tied each little one. Slowly the fabric began to cinch around my form.
As they got closer to finishing, Luisca abandoned the dress. She began working on my hair, making tiny little braids that then coiled in with curls, created with an iron that was sitting over a flame.
