“Look at our little one! She’s turned into a lady without our noticing. Those high-heeled shoes suit you. If only you could walk properly in them!”
Standing in front of the mirror, I scrutinized myself. My hair, combed and made pretty, covered my shoulders. My mother had applied some of her mascara to my eyelashes. My long red dress, with a collar and buttoned in the front, had a fabulous fine texture.
When my mother entered the room, she could not turn her gaze away from me. Our eyes met in the mirror.
“My dear girl, did you really grow up so fast! We haven’t realized how you have grown and blossomed!” Tears filled her eyes, and she was silent. My mother cried almost about everything. I don’t.
When my father saw me, I blushed and looked down. He held my hand and had me turn around. “Look at my little tigress,” he said. “She has become a young woman. I feel as if I have already lost you”
That evening, we all laughed about my pretty, doll-like appearance.
Later, Turgut told me, “When I stepped into your house that evening and saw you, I was dumbfounded. I was expecting to see a European-looking, scrawny girl wearing pants and a cap, and when I saw such a beauty, my heart skipped a beat.”
Yet, when I saw him, my heart did not beat faster.
I only remember having thought what a nice, deep voice he had and how well he spoke. I told my brother, “He talks like a radio announcer.”
Most of the time, he kept his head down. Our eyes didn’t even meet, or maybe only once. Then I went to another room, and with my brother who had followed me, listened to the guests in the living room. “As you know, our aim in coming here tonight is . . .”
“Idiot, he’s drinking salty coffee with pleasure!” We giggled and ran inside.
Later, Turgut said, “Of course I realized you had put salt in my coffee, but I liked that you did something so naughty.”
No one thought I would assent to such a marriage arrangement. The subject wasn’t even discussed at home for many days. Then other people, some acquaintances, tried to intercede. People whom my father greatly respected paid visits to us.
Ayla made me describe the whole procedure in detail. My mother scolded us a couple of times as we discussed the same subject, and we had a good time laughing.
Ayla was always saying, “We are not so foolish as to marry. I couldn’t stand some guy telling me what to do. I’ll do whatever I want. I’ll earn money and spend it myself. That’s it!”
She and I used to have so many dreams. First, we would travel throughout Anatolia. Then we would discover the world. As my father said, we would surpass all men and achieve the greatest success.
Then, one evening my father wanted to talk to me. As usual, all the lights in the living room were on. “Sit down, young lady,” he said, and I took a seat in one of the heavy brown velvet armchairs.
He was drinking tea from a small delicate glass and eating dried raisins, as usual. He took a sip, placed his glass in the saucer, and leaned back in his chair.
“My dear daughter, you saw that young lad. Tell me what you think. I know what answer I would give, but I’d like your opinion.”
My brother was reading the newspaper. My mother joined us, holding a plate full of apples.
I was perched on my seat. When I had to talk about something serious with my father, I was never able to look directly into his eyes. So as usual, I gazed at the floor.
“I’ve made my decision,” I said.
The living room lights, mixed with our images, reflected on the window panes. I looked out the window into the distance.
“And?” said my father.
“I’m going to get married,” I replied.
The plate dropped from my mother’s hands, and the green and red apples rolled across the floor. My brother jumped up, throwing down his newspaper. A look of shock spread across my father’s face.
“What are you saying?” My mother stammered. “This girl of ours is teasing us.”
“No, I’m not,” I said. “I want to get married.”
“She’s nuts. She has gone crazy!” shouted my brother.
“Wait a minute,” my father interjected, trying to calm them down. Then he turned to me, “This is nothing to joke about. I did not give the matter much consideration because I thought you weren’t interested. I asked you for the sake of custom since we have to give them an answer. So what do you say? Do you really want to marry him?”
His voice was cracked. He was at a loss as to what to say.
“Yes, I want to marry him. I’ve made my decision.”
My mother began to cry.
They knew that when I said I would do something, I always did it.
“This is all your fault,” my mother began to reproach my father.
“Are you really going to let her go to the other end of the world?” my brother exclaimed. “With a man she doesn’t even know! Say something, Mother . . .” He stopped speaking when my father motioned for him to keep silent.
“She is not going anywhere now. Let’s stop this discussion and sleep on it. We’ll talk again tomorrow. It’s late.”
I thought I should not think about the matter anymore. I had reached a decision. It was over.
If you think about something too long, you cannot do anything in the end.
My brother was angry with me. Before going to bed, he came to my room, stared at me through the door, and said, “I thought you were intelligent. What happened to ‘becoming a pilot’? Like a peasant girl, you’re going to marry the first guy who shows interest in you. Good for you!”
My mother also came to my room. She stroked my hair and talked for a long time. “You’re so young,” she said. “You have no idea about housework or managing a household. You don’t even know that young man. We won’t be around. You’ll be far away. Somewhere you don’t even know. This is no game. What if you’re unhappy or bored. What will you do then? Other people won’t put up with your moodiness or pamper you like we do. Both of you would be upset then! Oh, God! Why did I let them come? It’s all my fault. On the other hand, he looks like a nice, friendly young man, but . . .”
My mother! My dear mother! I found out much later that mothers can realize certain truths immediately. He was just like you described him, Mother: a nice and friendly man.
But what can a woman in whom storms break and tempests roar do with a nice, friendly man?
In those days, however, I did not recognize or understand this.
When Ayla heard my decision, she was speechless. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe it. “I knew you were a bit crazy, but I wasn’t aware that you were insane!” she finally exclaimed. “Why don’t you also give birth to five children so that you can all play together?” She thought that I was having a good time fooling everyone and that I would change my mind in a couple of days.
When my brother couldn’t succeed in changing my mind by mockery, he tried a different method. “They should at least meet each other a few times, go out for dinner, and see if they can get along or not,” he nagged my mother. “I can’t believe it! You’re saying nothing, as if that fellow is a rarity. He’s just an employee of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. What’s the hurry? My sister is certainly out of her senses, but what about you?”
In the end, Turgut, my brother, and I went out for dinner.
Turgut told us stories. He described