Page 43 of The Matchmaker

“I abandoned my granddaughter. Surely Nina told you what happened.”

“You didn’t abandon her. Lilah’s fine. She was never in danger.”

“She was my responsibility.” Her voice wavers. “Yet even this simple task was beyond me. If I can’t even look after my own grandchild, I’m no help to anyone.”

“Khala.” I squeeze her hand. “It was one time. Things happen. You’re a huge help to us just by being you.”

I give her my most comforting smile. Inside, though, I am unmoored. My cool, calm, and collected khala—it’s hard to reconcile her with the frail woman lying in this bed. I’m not accustomed to having to help her feel better. There’s no way I can tell her about Gertie even if I wanted to.

She clears her throat. “You are here for jewelry, not to hear me prattle on and on. You see? My head is not set on straight lately.”

I accompany her to the dresser, where she slides open the top drawer and runs her fingers over the varied boxes inside. The more expensive sets are in the bank—as are many of the heirloom necklaces and rings she brought over from Pakistan—but even the ones in this drawer are easily worth thousands of dollars.

She pulls out a velvet box. There it is: the platinum set. I trade out my silver bracelets for the chunky bangles. She unclasps the necklace from its brackets and hands it to me. “I must say, this one looks tailor-made for your sari.”

“It’s even more perfect than I remember,” I marvel. “I’ve never seen anyone with a collection like yours, Khala.”

“My trinkets pale in comparison to the sorts of jewelry our clients have.”

“They may have higher-valued possessions, but they can’t match your taste.”

Even when I was a little girl, she’d indulge me with these rings and bangles. Let me slide open these drawers anytime I liked. She’d fasten a necklace around my neck and applaud as I modeled it in front of the vanity. These were among my earliest memories of moving here, when this home was too big. Too sprawling. The ceilings too high and echoey. The heft of thesolid-gold bangles clinking against my wrist as I turned the pages of a book on the couch soothed me. Khala never stopped me. Never chided me or warned me not to handle them too roughly. Which I never did anyhow. Even then, I knew them for the special pieces they were.

I hold up my hair and she clasps the necklace around my neck. “I think I might have followed you into the family business just so I can have an excuse to wear these.”

“Bilqis…”

A lump grows in my throat. I turn to look at her, to tell her I’m Nura, but her eyes are fixed on my reflection in the mirror.

“Your mother, she loved this set.”

I trace the delicate platinum along my collarbone, now all the more precious. “Was this one from Pakistan?”

Khala nods. “I pawned many of the expensive ones early on, but I worked with everything I had to get this one back. It was her favorite. It will be yours someday.”

Had my mother ever worn this necklace around me? Pictures only help so much for memories I was too young to hold on to properly. It astonishes me sometimes, how connected I feel to a woman I barely knew. Do I really miss her, or am I missing what could have been? The other life that could have existed with her as a part of it?

“Whose wedding are you attending?” Khala asks.

“It’s Lena and Tanvir’s mehndi tonight.”

“Ah. The Karma Cosmetics heiress. She’s the one who was featured in the magazine that spoke disparagingly of our work?”

“That wasn’t her fault. She meant well when she highlighted our agency.”

“Good intentions can only do so much,” Khala says. “But Lena’s praise for you was certainly well deserved. I am not sure if I say this enough, but I am so proud of you, Nura. For all youhave done at the agency. I rest easy knowing it is in good hands. You have taken on so many responsibilities without a word of complaint.”

I bite my lip, thinking of Gertie. I don’t deserve her praise.

“Lena gave me a lot of credit in the piece,” I say, “but Darcy was the one who worked with her the most. I’m grateful for her help, because Tanvir has been a handful lately. It’s one of the few cases we worked on side by side from start to finish.”

“Who knew a gori girl would so deftly handle the desi business?” Khala chuckles.

“She sees herself as an honorary desi,” I say. “And she’s my date tonight.”

At this, Khala’s eyebrows furrow. “What about Azar?”

“He said he wasn’t up for being my pretend fiancé anymore.”

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