Page 212 - A Woman Is No Man

“How can you say that? There’s more to life than marriage. I thought
you believed that. I know you do.”
“I do, but that doesn’t mean we have the power to change our

circumstances.”
Sarah blinked at her. “So you want me to just accept my life for what
they tell me it should be? What kind of life is that?”
“I never said it was right, but I don’t see anything we can do about it.”
“I’ll stand up for myself! I’ll refuse!”
“It won’t matter. Fareeda won’t listen.”
“Then I’ll tell the man myself! I’ll look him straight in the eyes and say,

‘I don’t want to marry you. I’ll make your life a living hell.’”
Isra shook her head. “She’ll marry you off eventually. If not to this man,
then the next.”
“No,” Sarah said, standing up. “I won’t let that happen. Even if I have to
scare every last man away.”
“But don’t you see, Sarah?”

“See what?”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Is that what you think? That I don’t have a choice?” Despite the
defiance in Sarah’s voice, Isra sensed her anxiety. “We’ll see about that.”

Later, Sarah appeared in the kitchen wearing an ivory kaftan. Outside, the
trees moved slowly, their branches still bare, a residue of ice visible from
the kitchen window. “You look beautiful,” Isra told her.
“Whatever,” Sarah said, walking past her. She grabbed a serving bowl

from the cabinet and began filling it with fruit. “Let’s just get this over
with.”
“What are you doing?” Isra asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to serve our guests.”
Isra took the bowl from her. “You’re not supposed to serve the fruit
first.”

“Then I’ll make coffee,” Sarah said, grabbing a small beaker from the
drawer.
“Coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“Sarah, you never serve coffee first.”
She shrugged. “I’ve never paid attention to these stupid things.”