by Umm Zakiyyah
“They said it’s allowed only if you don’t have Muslim family,” Larry had told her when she shared her skepticism. She’d nodded thoughtfully in response, impressed that there were actually scholars who took into account a reality outside the confines of worn pages of books written centuries ago. “But they don’t call it halaal dating,” Larry added. “That’s my terminology.”
After leaving the mall, Aliyah slowed the car as she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex. She pulled into a parking space in front of her building and turned off the ignition. As she turned her shoulders to unbuckle her seat belt, she caught sight of a familiar vehicle parked a few spaces down. Aliyah’s heart constricted in panic. Was that Deanna’s car? Aliyah debated getting out to check so she could leave if it was Deanna. But what if Deanna saw her?
“Look, Mommy!” Ibrahim called from the backseat. “It’s Younus and Thawab.”
Instinctively, Aliyah refastened her seat belt, turned the key in the ignition, and looked in the rearview mirror as she backed out of the parking space. She didn’t even bother looking in the direction of Ibrahim’s pointing finger. She wanted to be able to tell the truth when Deanna asked what happened. “I didn’t see you,” Aliyah could say, and that was true. She’d only seen Deanna’s car.
Aliyah fumbled for her phone in the compartment next to her, and between glancing at the screen and at the road and back at the screen, she scrolled down to Larry Bivens in her address book.
“As-salaamu’alaikum,” he answered on the first ring.
“Wa’aliku-mus-salaam,” she said, her voice shaky. “Can I ask you a favor?”
***
An hour later, Aliyah held Ibrahim’s hand as she pressed the doorbell of the massive brick suburban home that her navigation system had directed her to. Larry had warned Aliyah that she’d probably be bored and uncomfortable, but she assured him that sitting amongst a bunch of strangers at his aunt’s house was much more preferable than being a prisoner in her own home next to Deanna.
The door opened, and the scent of potpourri and cigarettes drifted in Aliyah’s direction. A woman with tired eyes and a kind face stood in the doorway, her features reminding Aliyah of the late Coretta Scott King, widow of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. “Are you Larry’s girlfriend?” the woman said in the hoarse tone that Aliyah associated with lifetime smokers.
“Yes, ma’am,” Aliyah said, hesitating only briefly as she processed the word girlfriend in connection with herself.
“Come on in, sweetheart,” the woman said, opening the door wide and stepping aside. “Larry said he invited a friend.” The woman looked to be in her mid-fifties, and Aliyah assumed she must be the aunt who owned the home.
Aliyah stepped into the foyer and instinctively glanced around, taking in her surroundings as she held Ibrahim’s hand. A sparkling chandelier hung high on the ceiling above her head, and an oak-framed mirror hung on one side of the foyer.
“Is this your little boy?” the woman said, smiling and kneeling in front of Ibrahim, her voice the high-pitched tone adults often adopted in front of children.
“Yes, ma’am. His name is Ibrahim.” Ibrahim clung to Aliyah shyly, eyeing the woman skeptically. Aliyah kneeled in front of him until she was at eye level. “Say hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, Ibrahim. My name is Mrs. Johnson,” the woman told him. “Mrs. Sadie Johnson.”
“Hi,” he mumbled, a shadow of confusion and discomfort in his eyes.
Sadie laughed heartily as she stood. “I’ll take your coats,” she said.
“Should we take off our shoes?” Aliyah asked as she unbuttoned Ibrahim’s jacket and slid it off his arms. She then stood and peeled off her own jacket as her eyes scanned the plush oatmeal carpet beyond the marbled ceramic tiles where they were standing.
“If you like,” the woman said as she reached out to take the jackets from Aliyah.
Aliyah slipped off her shoes and instructed Ibrahim to do the same. She then straightened the shoes against the wall under the framed mirror near the front door. “Is this okay?” Aliyah gestured her hand toward the two pairs of shoes neatly aligned.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
Aliyah was relieved when she saw Larry’s face amongst the men and women sitting on couches and chairs in the living room. He stood and smiled when Aliyah and Ibrahim entered. Seeing Larry walk toward her, Aliyah’s heart softened toward him. He looked handsome in the long-sleeved polo shirt and khaki pants. It was same outfit that he’d worn to their “halaal date” at the mall, but for some reason, the outfit looked more distinguished on him now. He walked toward her with an expression of pleasure that suggested that they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Aliyah snickered. “Long time no see.”
“I know,” he said, chuckling.
“The children are downstairs playing with the Wii,” Sadie said.
“Can Ibrahim play with the other children?” Larry asked Aliyah.
Aliyah hesitated, apprehensive. She wasn’t prepared to part with her son at a stranger’s house. “Um… What game is it?”
“Larry, honey, take your girlfriend downstairs and show her the playroom,” Sadie said. “Maybe Ibrahim will find something he likes.”
Aliyah and Ibrahim followed Larry down a long flight of carpeted steps, and the noise level rose as they descended. The playroom was an expansive room with dark hardwood floors and video game consoles, boxes of toys, and three wide-screen monitors along the walls. There were about ten children downstairs, engrossed in their own games. They didn’t even glance up when Larry, Aliyah, and Ibrahim walked in.
“Yes!” Ibrahim yelled as he let go of Aliyah’s hand and ran to a box of cars and action figures.
“MashaAllah,” Aliyah said. “This really is a playroom.”
Larry smiled, a sense of pride on his face. “Aunt Sadie has been blessed.”
“Yes, I see that.” Aliyah crossed her arms as she surveyed the room again. She nodded her approval as she saw Ibrahim toying with a remote control until the car on the floor started moving. “What does your aunt do?”
“She’s CEO of my mother’s PR firm,” Larry said.
Aliyah felt a sense of pride for their family. It was always motivating to hear success stories of racial minorities in America. “MashaAllah, they’ve done really well,” she said. Aliyah wondered what his mother’s house looked like, but she knew it wasn’t polite to ask.
“It’s a family business actually,” Larry said. “Jacob is the head consultant for PR and fashion, and I’m financial consultant for most of our clients. We all own a percentage of the business.”
“And your mother founded it?” Aliyah said, admiration in her tone.
“Yes. But it started off really small. My mom says it took a lot of sweat and blood to get to this point. But she’s been in business for about forty years now.”
“Forty years? MashaAllah. I need to get some tips from her.”
“She’d love to talk to you, I’m sure,” Larry said.
Aliyah shook her head, self-conscious. She hadn’t meant it literally. “I’ll wait till I get myself together enough to know what I want to do. Right now, I’m just trying to survive.”
The boisterous noise of games and a zooming car filled the silence between them for some time.
“If you ever need anything,” Larry said tentatively, “just let me know. I don’t mind doing what I can.”
Anxiety twisted in Aliyah’s chest as she was reminded of Deanna saying the same thing to her. “No,” she said, folding her arms until her fists were under her armpits. “I’m fine.”
A tense silence followed, and Aliyah realized that she had spoken brusquely. She sighed in self-reproach. “Larry, I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I can’t accept any more help right now. I have to figure out how to do this on my own.”
A shadow of concern passed over Larry’s face as he looked at Aliyah, perplexed. “What happened?”
Aliyah drew in a deep breath, her gaze distant
as she exhaled. “I’m just realizing that most help comes with strings attached.”
“I don’t intend to take advantage of you,” Larry said, his tone soft and empathetic.
Aliyah coughed laughter and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “People usually don’t intend harm, Larry,” she said. “They just do it naturally.” Aliyah blinked, embarrassed that tears stung her eyes. “It’s like second nature to some people.”
“Let me get you something to drink,” Larry said before turning and taking the stairs two at a time out the basement.
As her vision blurred, Aliyah realized that she was trembling and her eyes were filling. Not wanting Ibrahim to see her like this, Aliyah turned and hurried up the stairs herself. Tears slipped from her eyes with each step, and self-conscious, she quickly wiped them away. At the top of the stairs, Aliyah’s heart raced as she glanced beyond the spacious kitchen for any sign of a room where she could shut herself inside. She walked back and forth, hoping no one would see her before she could lock herself inside a bathroom or empty room.
“The bathroom is the second door on the left,” someone said.
Aliyah glanced behind her and saw Larry holding two paper cups filled with water. “I’ll wait for you out here,” he said.
In the bathroom, Aliyah leaned against the door, and her shoulders shook as she dropped her head and covered her face, letting herself cry. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” her mother’s voice said, “embarrassing the family like that.” Aliyah sobbed and hiccupped, her breath catching intermittently. “That’s just like Aliyah,” Deanna’s voice said, “crying like some pitiful child. I swear, it makes me sick.” Then her sister, “Ignore her. She just wants attention.”
“Do you feel a bit better?” Larry asked after Aliyah emerged from the bathroom, her face moist from splashing water on it and dabbing it with a hand towel.
Aliyah shrugged, an embarrassed smile tugging at her lips. “Yes, thank you. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” Larry said as he handed her a cup of water. “I have my moments too.”
Aliyah laughed as she accepted the cup and took a sip. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“Maybe not with tears,” Larry said. “But I definitely have my moments.”
“What could possibly stress out a Bivens?” Aliyah teased.
“The same things that stress out a Smith, a Thomas, or a Ya’qoob.”
Aliyah nodded. “Well,” she said after taking another sip of water, “at least your family respects your decision to be Muslim.”
“That’s true.” Larry nodded thoughtfully. “But it’s not easy for them. They’re devout Christians.”
“Well, supposedly, my family is Christian too, but they barely believe in God,” Aliyah said with a thoughtful frown. “But they act like I broke the eleventh commandment.”
Larry raised an eyebrow, a humored expression on his face. “The eleventh commandment?”
“Thou shall not wear clothes that hath not appeared in fashion magazines.”
Larry tossed his head back in laughter, and Aliyah couldn’t keep from grinning herself. “I assume you mean hijab,” he said after he gathered his composure.
“What was your first clue?” Aliyah said, a smirk on her face.
Larry set down his cup of water then crossed his arms and leaned against the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, an affectionate expression on his face. “What’s going on with you and my sister-in-law?”
Aliyah drew her eyebrows together. “Your sister-in-law?”
“Deanna.”
Oh. In the warm, friendly atmosphere of the home of Larry’s aunt, Aliyah had forgotten that Deanna had any connection to Larry’s relatives. Aliyah started to reply then realized that her responses might offend Larry. After all, Deanna was technically family. “Just some friendship kinks to work out.”
Larry snorted, a smirk on his face. “I doubt that.”
Aliyah creased her forehead, a smile playing at her lips. “Why?”
“She shows up at your home, and you call me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t call me for anything.”
Aliyah didn’t know what to say to that, so she averted her gaze and drank the last bit of water in her cup.
“So what’s going on with Deanna? Is she making an Excel sheet of your faults and her solutions?”
Aliyah burst out laughing. It took several seconds to pull herself together. “Pretty much,” she said.
Larry shook his head. “I swear, I have no idea what Jacob sees in that woman.”
Aliyah frowned. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“Yeah, but don’t say it,” Aliyah said, her tone subdued. “It’s not right. It’s backbiting.”
“I’m not saying she’s a bad person,” Larry said. “I’m just saying I don’t understand their relationship.”
“But you don’t have to understand it, Larry,” Aliyah said. “You’re not in it.”
Larry nodded reflectively. “It’s just that sometimes I worry about my brother. He seems stressed all the time.”
“He seems fine to me,” Aliyah said, hoping to change the subject. “He’s actually pretty inspirational, to be honest.”
Larry was silent, a sad smile on his face as if enjoying a private joke. “So have you ever talked to Deanna about what’s bothering you?”
“Do you mean have I ever talked to her about it, or has she ever listened?” Aliyah said, bitter humor in her voice as she rolled her eyes.
“Both I suppose.”
“Yes and no.”
“Yes and no to both questions?”
“Yes, I’ve talked to her about it,” Aliyah said. “And no she’s never listened.”
“Whenever Deanna decides something,” Larry said, “it’s like the whole world has to fall in line.”
Aliyah’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I am,” Larry said with a grunt. “She’s the reason I accepted Islam months ago.”
“That’s good, mashaAllah,” Aliyah said, impressed. “I’m really happy to hear that.”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “It’s not good.”
Aliyah contorted her face in disapproval. “Larry, becoming Muslim is a good thing. If she helped you make that decision, then—”
“I didn’t say she helped me,” he said. “I said she’s the reason I accepted Islam months ago. If it weren’t for her, I probably would’ve converted sooner.”
Aliyah closed her mouth, his words cutting her off mid-thought. “What happened?” she said after a moment of awkward silence.
“Every time I saw her, she always had something offensive to say about me not being Muslim. She would even send me these long texts and emails with proofs about the Qur’an and contradictions in the Bible. It got to the point that I filtered all her emails to a folder labeled W-T-F.”
“SubhaanAllah,” Aliyah said. “Are you serious?”
“What made it so bad is she was always smiling when she spoke about religion. But, in my opinion, it wasn’t from kindness,” he said. “It was condescending. It was like she was talking to some helpless puppy she needed to save instead of a grown man with a mind of his own.” He shook his head, clearly still disturbed by the memory. “And she always inserted these smiley emoticons into everything she emailed or texted me. I guess she thought smiley faces would make the message seem lighthearted and sincere. But it came off as snarky and sarcastic. At least to me,” he added with a shrug.
Aliyah was silent as she digested what Larry was saying. Ironically, hearing his experience made Aliyah feel better. At least she knew she wasn’t alone. Sometimes she feared she was imagining things when she felt disrespected by Deanna. But she’s so nice, Aliyah kept telling herself. And seeing Deanna’s wide, full-teeth smile almost always disarmed Aliyah.
There was something magnetic and charismatic about Dean
na. She had that way about her. You couldn’t help feeling like you were in the presence of greatness when you were around her. Perhaps that was why she was so successful as a marriage counselor and speaker. You couldn’t sit in the audience opposite her and not get inspired.
“Well…” Aliyah said. “She’s always smiling when she tells me she’ll be there for me.” She frowned thoughtfully. “But then she turns around and calls me selfish and arrogant for asking for advice or accepting her help. She takes credit for almost every good thing that’s ever happened to me,” Aliyah vented. “My marriage to Matt, my job at the college, my—”
“Your job at the college?” Larry interjected, amused. “She took credit for that? She doesn’t even work there.”
“I know, but she did help me get the job,” Aliyah said, feeling obligated to clarify the truth. “She asked Jacob to talk to the administration on my behalf.”
“You’re joking?” Larry shook his head, amusement on his face.
“No, I’m serious.” Aliyah sighed thoughtfully. “She’s not a bad person, Larry. It’s just that—”
“She didn’t ask Jacob to help you get that job,” Larry said. “I did.”
Aliyah furrowed her brows as she regarded Larry. “What do you mean? You and I didn’t even know each other at that time.”
“I know,” Larry said. “It was only recently that I found out that you were the Muslim woman who started working with Jacob. But when he asked my advice, I told him he should talk to the college on your behalf.”
“But Deanna said…”
“I don’t know what Deanna told you,” Larry said, a hint of a smirk on his face, “but when she found out about the job, she was angry with Jacob for going behind her back.”
Aliyah’s face twisted in confusion. “Going behind her back?”
“To help you get a job at the college without asking her first,” he said. Aliyah stared at Larry, a blank expression on her face. “It was all they fought about for a long time,” he said. “I got sick of hearing the arguments whenever I came over. I couldn’t understand what was so wrong with a Muslim man helping a divorced Muslim woman in need of work. What was the woman supposed to do? That’s what I kept asking Deanna. Be homeless?”
