Page 6 of Don't Tell Me Who To Love

“Aisha, ven ahora,” Mama said.

“I’m coming.” The buttonholes on the front of her blouse were small, making it difficult to fasten the buttons quickly enough. She started towards the living room, still grappling with them.

“Aisha.” Nicolás stared at her breasts and smiled. “Do you need a hand?”

She swerved to avoid him and slapped his outstretched hand. “No, I can do it.”

He trailed behind her to the living room. It appeared the whole village had already arrived. Conchita stood at the centre of a crowd, her cheeks flushed and nodding her head and shifting her feet as each person took her into their arms and congratulated her. Aisha had not thought of her little sister as radiant, but she was tonight, and she looked even younger. Too young to marry. García, her now-betrothed, was stood at her side, fresh-faced and grinning like the boy that he was.

Aisha took a glass of wine, caught her sister’s eye, and raised her glass in a toast to her good fortune. Conchita mouthed, “Thank you,” then turned back to receiving the good wishes of those who surrounded her. Aisha hated this kind of attention, but that didn’t stop the ache of unreciprocated longing reinforcing her sinful desires.

Nicolás raised a toast to the happy couple then turned to Aisha. He held up his glass to her. His thoughts weren’t hard to read. He had beautiful eyes, as dark as the ocean, a rugged, handsome appeal, and the voice of an angel when he sang. There wasn’t a woman in the village who wouldn’t snatch up his hand in marriage if he were to offer it to them. Except Aisha.

His touch on her arm was gentle, though she still flinched inside. She tried to hide her response by moving towards the door. “We need to go.”

“Yes, the others will not want to wait.”

Her mama was making her way towards them. Someone had started chanting and another strummed a guitar. There was nothing quite like the announcement of a forthcoming wedding as a good reason for celebration, and no one did that better than them. Aisha had the urge to run.

“Isn’t this the most wonderful news, Aisha? Your sister is to be married.”

“Yes, Mama, it’s great news.” She wanted to add, for her, but stopped herself. “They look happy together,” she said.

“And look at you two,” Mama said.

She took their hands, and he smiled. Aisha fought the impulse to scream.

“You make a very handsome couple.” Her mama drew their hands together.

Nicolás tried to hold Aisha’s hand, but she pulled away. “Yes, Mama. Now, we need to go to work. I will join the celebrations later.” She wouldn’t be drawn into a conversation about them that would end in a fiery argument with her mama.

“We will join you later,” Nicolás said and kissed Mama on the cheeks. “It is a special evening, and we can dance together until dawn.”

Mama cupped his face and stared at him as if he was the son she’d always wished for. She heaved a deep sigh and looked at Aisha as she spoke. “You take good care of my Aisha.”

Aisha wanted the earth to swallow her up and push her out into some other time and place. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her family. She did, very much. She loved them all and would give her life for them if she had to. She just didn’t need—or want—a man to look after her. She wanted what she couldn’t have, though her heart still tried to convince her it was a possibility every time she went to the city and performed.

She would sing of love in the street tonight. She would dance with wild desire. The music would feed her soul with hope, and her heart would open like a flower. The stars would appear brighter, and her steps home lighter. She wanted to know that joy for a short time, even if she couldn’t grasp it and hold onto it. And the yearning would keep her awake until the sun started to rise. She would float away inside her dreams and wake as she always did with an ache so deep that she could lose herself inside its emptiness. When she rose in the morning and gathered the crops from the field, she would pretend that everything was fine.

Aisha had known that love once and thoughts of Esme still caused her heart to flutter, but Esme could never have been hers. It wasn’t to be. Time had passed, and things had changed. As a strong, healthy woman, Aisha was supposed to make an excellent wife and bear many children, and for a gitana in the hills of Sacromonte, they were the only things that mattered.

Nicolás picked up his guitar and strapped it across his back as they left the house. They made their way through the gathering that spilled out along the narrow street. Their neighbours were dancing with her papa. He’d started a fire, so it would soon be ready to cook the food they would all share. Nicolás was right. When they returned, they would all dance together late into the night. It was expected of her.

“Are you not well, Aisha?” he asked as they walked.

Aisha stopped where the road was at its widest, where a tourist scenic spot had been constructed. The view of Granada, sprawled across the foot of the Sierra Nevada, made it a popular location for tourists to stop and take photographs, although she preferred the view late at night. Fewer lights would spill from the houses, so she could see the constellations. The Great Bear would often appear from the houses left of the Genil River, and Taurus the bull rose towards the Alhambra. And there was a stillness about the night in which she could find some solace. Behind her sat the white painted houses and beyond those lay their village and the narrow route further up the mountain. Their homes were carved into the rockface, each frontage as unique as the Roma families that had dwelled there for generations. No matter how many years that passed since their ancestors first made their homes there, that piece of their history was timeless.

“Do you ever dream of another world?” she asked.

Nicolás laughed. “Why would I do that? Our life is here.” He danced a pirouette. “Besides, we have the prettiest girls in our village.”

An attractive woman didn’t escape Aisha’s eyes either. But the women here were looking for a husband. And if they weren’t looking for a man, then they weren’t looking at all, and she didn’t know anyone like that. Women like Aisha had to keep their secrets inside their dreams and deny their desires because the risk of bringing shame to their family and their community was too great. So, it was better not to look, not to see and be tempted, and not to draw attention. “You are free, Nicolás. Maybe it’s different for you.”

“You are free too, Aisha.” He turned and took a pace away from her, lowered his head, and poked the ground with the toe of his shoe. “You can have any man you want.”

He didn’t need to ask her directly to go out with him. His longing was as easy to read as the signposts on the road. He was passionate and showed his heart to her unashamedly in the way he looked at her and spent time with her. She was grateful he hadn’t asked her to marry him. Perhaps he knew deep down she would refuse. “I just wonder what it might be like to travel and see the world.”

He turned swiftly and frowned. “Where would you go that is more beautiful than this?”

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