Page 40 of Three Holidays and a Wedding
“But I’m not a writer!” she protested.
“Do you know what writers do?” he asked, gently clasping her hand and pulling her, reluctantly, up the stairs to the stage. She was so nervous, she didn’t even register the feel of his hand in hers, but it was a steadying presence. “It’s very simple: writers write,” he said firmly.
Writers write.It was trite, but somehow the words helped calm her mind. Ever since she landed in Snow Falls, she had felt different from the stressed-out Maryam who herded her family through Denver International Airport. This new Maryam spilled her secret dreams to a stranger, and now her lifelong family friend was helping to make those secret dreams come true. Maryam accepted the seat at the table that Saif pulled out for her. “You should stay on set,” Maryam whispered.
He grinned at her. “Not a chance,” he said before leaving to inform Saima and Dadu about their change in plans.
The Holiday Hoopla committee introduced themselves: Celine was a retired middle school teacher; Bruce, with the scarf, was a classically trained actor, and beside him was his partner, Teddy, a giant mountain of a man and retired school custodian. Maryam explained that she was a pharmacist and avid reader but had no professional writing experience. They didn’t seem bothered in the slightest—this was their first time putting together the holiday pageant, too.
Saif joined them a few minutes later. He must have run to the set and back, but he had barely broken a sweat. “Maryam has always wanted to write something meaningful,” Saif saidas he took a seat. “It would be great to include some stories about the origins of all three faiths. I bet a lot of the townspeople have no idea about one another’s celebrations, beyond the surface level.”
“Great idea,” Bruce said before turning to Maryam. “Do you think you could come up with something? Teddy’s already stretched doing set design, I’m on props and costumes, and Celine is coordinating the choir.”
“Help us, Maryam, you’re our only hope,” Celine said, doing her best Princess Leia impression, and it was that more than anything else that unfroze Maryam and made her laugh. Maybe Saif was right. Nobody knew her here; there was zero expectation; she might even be good at this.
Bismillah.“Tell me what you have so far, and I’ll do my best. My friend Anna might be able to help with set design, too.” Beside her, Saif gave a thumbs-up.He’s a dork, she thought with genuine fondness. Then:No one has ever done anything this nice for me before.
The group quickly got to work, with Celine, Bruce, and Teddy brainstorming, and Maryam furiously taking notes. An hour flew by, then two, and she didn’t even notice. Finally, Celine sat back and stretched.
“Promised I’d take my grandkids sledding, give their parents a break this afternoon,” she announced. “Maryam, you’re an absolute saint. I think this will be the best Holiday Hoopla yet! Meet back here tomorrow?”
Maryam looked uncertainly back at Saif, who nodded eagerly.
“She’ll be here,” he said.
She was buoyant on the walk back to the film set, and afterfive minutes of nonstop chatter, Maryam realized she was monopolizing the conversation. But Saif only shook his head when she tried to thank him.
“You were meant to do this,” he said. “I’m pretty sure writers need a whole lot of hard work and experience to back up any natural talent, but if anyone was meant to be a writer, it’s you. I’ve never seen you smile that hard, or enjoy yourself this much, and I’ve known you since you were two years old.”
Maryam blushed. “Maybe I’ve been stuck in a tiny bit of a rut,” she admitted. “Maybe I’ve been playing it safe and worrying about what my family expects of me instead of what I want for myself. The one time I did go out on a limb and do something for myself, I got burned. Badly.”
Saif looked down. “Sometimes, I wonder if we all drank the Kool-Aid.” He continued when Maryam gave him a questioning look. “I know our parents put a lot of pressure on us to excel academically, but I’m starting to realize that a lot of that pressure was internal, you know? We just assumed that our parents were typicaldesiimmigrant parents, and that they embodied all these stereotypes, expecting us to become doctors and whatnot.”
“They did want us to become doctors,” Maryam laughed. “Have you heard the way my parents boast about Saima?”
Saif shook his head. “They wanted us to do better than they did, or at least just as well. They wanted what every parent wants for their kid—to live a safe, happy life. If they saw you were happy, they would come around to everything else. Maybe we never gave our parents enough credit. They packed up and left their homes, their families, their friends, everything theyknew, to move to another country and build a new life, all when they were younger than us. I’m pretty sure they could handle it if we decided to forge our own path, too. I bet they won’t stop bragging when you write your first play, or movie, or maybe even your first book.”
“I think you mean ‘if,’ ” Maryam laughed, but Saif just shook his head again.
“ ‘When,’ ” he said firmly. “Admit it, Maryam Aziz—there’s a wild artist’s heart beating beneath that puffer jacket. I’m just happy I get to see it unleashed, right in time for the Holiday Hoopla.”
“That name has to go,” Maryam vowed, but she was touched by Saif’s words. If he thought she could write an inclusive holiday play, then maybe he was right.
Saif’s dark eyes softened as they lingered on her face, and her cheeks heated, like a reticent flower unfurling under the attention of the sun.
“You can deflect and joke all you like, but”—Saif cleared his throat—“I feel as if I’m finally getting to see the real you.”
Maryam waited, breath stopped in her throat, for him to continue, but he only looked at her intently, leaving her to wonder. Did he like what he saw?
He has a girlfriend, she reminded her treacherous heart.But Farah said not to make assumptions, to seize happiness when it was offered, another voice offered. Was that what was happening here? There was only one way to find out.Snow day, she thought to herself.Take-a-chance day.She took a deep breath.
“Can I ask you something, Saif?” she said, and didn’t wait for a reply, afraid she would lose her nerve. “We... we’re justfriends. Right?” she asked, motioning between them. Maybe Snow Falls Maryam could be excused for asking the question out loud.
Saif stopped walking to look at her. He was silent for a long moment, eyes roving her face. “Is that... what you want?” he said finally. He looked uncertain, but then firmly said, “In that case, I’d love to be your friend. Friendship with you would be great.”
Maryam tried to hide her crushed feelings behind a jaunty everything-is-fine smile. “Got it.” She plowed ahead, hoping Saif hadn’t noticed her flaming cheeks. That’s what she got for putting herself out there.
But Saif called out to her, and when she turned back, the uncertainty had returned to his face. He shook his head, as if shaking it away, and when he spoke, his voice was low and determined. “Before this trip, if anyone had asked me about Maryam Aziz, I would have said: she’s quiet and responsible, someone I’ve known all my life who always does as she’s told.”
