The wedding planner called out to Saeem, who was hiding behind the curtain with her friend Gamrah. In her singsong Lebanese Arabic, Madame Sawsan informed Sadeem that the wedding music tape was still stuck in the machine and that efforts were being made to fix it.
"Please, tell Gamrah to calm down! It's nothing to worry about, no one is going to leave. It's only one A.M.! And anyway, all the cool brides these days start things on the late side to add a bit of suspense. Some never walk down the aisle before two or three A.M.!"
Gamrah, though, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She could hear the voices of her mother and her sister Hessah shrieking at the events manager from the other end of the ballroom, and the whole evening was threatening to turn out to be a sensational humiliation. Sadeem stayed at the bride's side, wiping beads of sweat from her friend's forehead before they could collide with the tears that were held back only by the quantity of kohl weighing down her eyelids.
The voice of the famous Saudi singer Muhammad Abdu Finally blasted from the amplifiers, filling the enormous hall and prompting Madame Sawsan to give Sadeem the nod. Sadeem poked Gamrah.
"Yalla,* Let's go."
With a swift movement Gamrah wiped her hands along her body after reciting some verses of the Holy Quran to protect her from envious eyes, and raised the neckline of ther dress to keep it from drooping over her small breasts. She began her descent of the marble staricase, going even more slowly than at the rehearsal with her girlfrinds, adding a sixth second to the five she was supposed to count between each stair. She murmured the name of God before every step, praying that Saeem wouldn't stumble on her train causing it to tear, or that she wouldn't trip over the floor-lenght hem of her dress and fall flat on ther face like in a comedy show.
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