His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  Reem’s eyes glistened in hurt, and she folded her arms in a pout. “I can’t believe you’d say something like that to me. Everything I teach is from authentic sources. I don’t speak from myself when I talk about Allah.”

  “Teaching is not only in words, Reem,” Sayed said. “How you treat people is talking about Allah, especially when you expect privileges because you teach about Allah.”

  “Respect isn’t a privilege,” Reem said, sniffing indignantly. “It’s a right.”

  “If it’s a right, then Aliyah deserves it too.”

  Reem contorted her face. “Americans have no respect for religious knowledge. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Astaghfirullah,” Sayed said, his voice stern. “Then why is it that Allah chose so many of them to become Muslim?”

  A stubborn silence followed as Reem refused to respond.

  “Look at the Saudis you’re so excited to have our children marry,” Sayed said. “How many of them are studying Qur’an? How many are even praying?”

  Reem still said nothing, but her husband’s words softened her solve slightly.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Reem,” he cautioned. “We don’t have a monopoly on this faith. I think Americans are wise to view religious knowledge with distrust. Don’t forget, that’s how many of them came to accept Islam in the first place. And if they’re sincere, that distrust will lead them to the religious knowledge they can trust.”

  “What have I done to make Aliyah distrust me?” Reem said, voice tight in hurt.

  Sayed was silent for some time as he looked affectionately at his wife. “Reem, this isn’t about Aliyah,” he said. “This is about you. You’re hurting, and when you’re hurting, one-on-one relationships are hard for you.” He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “You need to go to a therapist to help sort this out. You can’t keep lashing out at people every time Fahad comes around.”

  Reem clenched her jaw and tears welled in her eyes. “Where am I supposed to find a therapist?” she said in a small voice. “You know what our family thinks about American shrinks.”

  There was an extended pause as Sayed met Reem’s gaze doubtfully. “Are you willing to go?” he said.

  “As long as no one finds out,” Reem said, averting her gaze.

  “Then I’ll talk to Jacob, insha’Allah,” Sayed said. “I’m sure he’ll know someone with no connection to the Arab community.”

  ***

  Early Sunday morning Jacob stood near the window in his home office. He had had a difficult time sleeping the night before, but he wasn’t inclined to go back to bed. He had spent the latter part of the night in prayer and self-reflection. After praying Qiyaam al-Layl, he had sat on his prayer mat and read Qur’an until it was time to pray Fajr. In the qunoot during Witr prayer, Jacob had stood with his hands raised in supplication, begging Allah to forgive him and his wife and to cover their faults from the public. He beseeched Allah to heal Deanna, to protect her from harm, and to guide her to make the decision that was best for her.

  Though it was a difficult conclusion (and one that he’d come to only after careful reflection and Istikhaarah), Jacob had told Deanna’s attorney that he would not bear the responsibility for deciding Deanna’s fate. Either they get her a psychological evaluation to determine her mental lucidity or they get Deanna herself to inform them, verbally or in writing, what she wanted them to do about the plea deal. It was obvious that Deanna’s mental state was deteriorating, but Jacob wasn’t completely convinced that Deanna was incapable of making a reasonable decision. If Deanna had the presence of mind to lure him to the jail just so she could vent to him about Aliyah, then she had the ability to decide whether or not she should fight the charges or accept the plea.

  Besides, it was a lose-lose situation for Jacob no matter what he did. If he made the decision for her and she suffered a terrible fate, then Deanna would blame him for the rest of her life—and he would blame himself for the rest of his life. And if he made the decision for her and she was exonerated of all charges, then she would feel entitled to demand more of him. And no matter what happened, Jacob was firm in his resolve that he would not remarry Deanna.

  The past few months had been terribly lonely and confusing for Jacob as he struggled to take care of himself and their sons in her absence, but the time had been surprisingly tranquil for him spiritually. He was even developing a healthier relationship with Younus and Thawab while their mother was gone. Whenever Deanna had been around, Jacob felt tense and anxious while interacting with his sons. Deanna’s constant criticism about his parental decisions and her incessant yelling at the boys even while he was enjoying a pleasant moment with them put Jacob on edge. Ironically, he didn’t realize just how much he had been on edge until she was gone. It was as if he was finally exhaling after having held his breath for too long.

  Call Dr. Warren! The dry-erase marker note on the whiteboard reminded Jacob that he hadn’t called Aliyah back. Crap, he thought to himself in self-rebuke. He needed to talk to her before Monday morning. He glanced at the clock. Was it too early to give her a call?

  ***

  Aliyah was still sitting facing the qiblah on the carpet of her bedroom when the rays of early morning spilled through her window. She had slept for only a few hours Saturday night before deciding to get up and pray Qiyaam al-Layl. But when she had gone to the bathroom, she discovered that she was menstruating. Her heart fell in sadness when she realized she would be unable to offer Salaah for an entire week. Usually Aliyah viewed her period as a “week off” from obligatory prayer, but moments like these she wished she could connect to Allah through formal prayer. Reem’s words had cut deep, and Aliyah really wanted the tranquility of formal prayer to help clear her mind and heart. But since she couldn’t pray, she had sat in self-reflection in between reading Qur’an and crying to Allah in du’aa. Facing the direction for prayer, she had remained there until sunrise, and the spiritual exercise helped calm her heart and unclutter her mind.

  “You stay out of my life, and I stay out of yours.” Aliyah cringed at the memory of how poorly she had translated her feelings to Reem. Aliyah had fallen asleep in a fit of agony, regretting how she had spoken to her now former Qur’an teacher, and she hadn’t improved much when she had woken up that morning before dawn. Regret had gnawed at her as she reflected on how she could have better handled the exchange with Reem.

  It’s for the better, Aliyah said to herself as the rays of sun lit her room and she thought of Reem’s angry phone call. She had no idea why she felt so certain, but there was a sense of peace in her heart. Everything with Reem would sort itself out, she felt, though Aliyah had no idea how or when. Allah is in charge of hearts, she reminded herself. He is in charge of everything. If Allah had decreed that Reem’s heart would turn away from her, then it must be for a good reason. Aliyah hadn’t intended to insult Reem, and Aliyah was sure Reem hadn’t intended to insult her. Perhaps they were both nursing their own private wounds and simply needed time to heal.

  “O Allah,” Aliyah said bowing her head and raising her hands in du’aa. “Give me better than I lost, and give Reem better than she lost. And forgive us both and remove from us any ghill in our hearts. For you are Al-Ghafoor, Al-Wahhaab. Ameen.”

  After the prayerful supplication, Aliyah glanced at the clock and saw that it was just after seven o’clock in the morning. She wondered if it was too early to call Mashael. In a couple of hours, Aliyah would need to prepare breakfast for Ibrahim and start getting dressed. She was scheduled to meet Salima for breakfast at ten o’clock. When they had spoken the night before, they planned to meet at the mall restaurant where Aliyah had often taken her son to play with Younus and Thawab. Salima and Aliyah hoped that Haroon and Ibrahim could enjoy themselves in the children’s area while they talked. So Aliyah should probably call Mashael within the next hour in case the conversation took longer than expected.

  A vibrating sound interrupted Aliyah’s thoughts, and she turned and saw that someo
ne was calling her mobile. Confused, Aliyah stood and walked over to the nightstand by her bed, wondering who would be calling at this time.

  Jacob Bivens, the caller ID display glowed.

  After only a slight hesitation, Aliyah pressed the button to accept the call and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “As-salaamu’alaikum wa rahmatullaah,” Jacob said.

  Aliyah’s spirits lifted at the sound of the familiar voice. “Wa’alaiku mus-salaam wa rahmatullaahi wa barakaatuh.”

  “I’m sorry to call so early,” he said. “But I didn’t want to miss you.”

  “It’s okay,” Aliyah said. “I was awake.”

  There was an extended pause. “Aliyah,” Jacob said, concern in his tone, “did Dr. Warren meet with you last week to replace you with Dr. Stanley as stand-in coordinator of the internship in my absence?”

  Aliyah got the sudden feeling that she had done something terribly wrong. “Yes…” she said hesitantly.

  “And you accepted?”

  Aliyah cringed as she was overcome with apprehension and mortification. “Yes…”

  Jacob exhaled, as if disturbed by the news. “Then you need to talk to Dr. Warren first thing Monday morning and revoke that acceptance.”

  “Why?” Aliyah said, her tone concerned.

  “This might not make a lot of sense right now,” Jacob said. “But, trust me, if Dr. Warren appointed Dr. Stanley to oversee the internship, then it wasn’t to help you or One Plus One.”

  Aliyah slowly sat on the edge of her bed, dread knotting in her stomach. “What happened?”

  “I can explain more later, insha’Allah,” Jacob said, apology in his voice. “But for now, I need you to tell Dr. Warren that based on Article Three of the Faculty-Initiated Program Code, you decline to accept Dr. Stanley as the stand-in coordinator in your place.”

  “Okay…” Aliyah said, unsure how to process what Jacob was saying. She hesitated briefly before asking, “But why did you call my uncle about this? Does he know something?”

  Several seconds passed before Aliyah heard Jacob exhale. “With everything that’s happening,” Jacob said, “I didn’t feel comfortable calling you myself.”

  “You mean because of all those ‘crazy Muslim woman’ rumors?”

  “No,” Jacob said, as if choosing his words carefully. “Because Dr. Stanley has a history, and since I’m no longer at the college, at least for the time being, I wanted to make sure someone else was looking out for you.”

  “I’m not understanding,” Aliyah said, drawing her eyebrows together. “What history?”

  “Aliyah,” Jacob said, “there’s a lot I can’t say because my position bounds me to confidentiality. Even this phone call itself is walking a thin line. But as your Muslim brother, it’s my responsibility to ensure your protection and safety. So I’ll say this. Part of the reason I made it a point to stop by your office each day and walk you to the elevator and to your car was so that Dr. Stanley and our other colleagues would associate you with me and leave you alone.”

  “Leave me alone?” Aliyah repeated in confusion. “Why?”

  Jacob drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Aliyah, if I could, I’d tell you everything. But as a member of the staff disciplinary committee, I can’t reveal the details of cases that have come before me. So as far as Dr. Warren and any of our colleagues are concerned, this conversation never happened. But as your Muslim brother, I’m telling you that Dr. Stanley, with the implicit support of Dr. Warren, has been trying for years to have me demoted from department head, and it looks like they’re taking advantage of you and my absence to do it.”

  Aliyah felt anxiety tightening in her chest. After having told Dr. Warren she welcomed any help for the internship, Aliyah loathed the idea of going back and telling Dr. Warren that she was formally refusing Dr. Stanley replacing her as One Plus One’s stand-in coordinator. Aliyah had tried so hard to stay out of problems at work, but now it looked like she had unwittingly walked right into a slew of them.

  “When you look at the faculty handbook that I mentioned earlier,” Jacob continued, “pay particular attention to the section about faculty-initiated programs and the steps required to have a staff member replace another as the appointed stand-in coordinator. This is the part I need you to reference when you speak to Dr. Warren Monday morning. Right now, this might all sound cryptic, but trust me, with Dr. Stanley involved, your professional reputation, and perhaps even your position, could be at stake. My hope is that this is only a grievance they have with me, but we can’t afford to take any chances.”

  “Okay,” Aliyah said, her mind racing to recall where she had placed the handbook. “I appreciate you letting me know.”

  “And if you can,” Jacob said, “between now and next week, find out what you can about Dr. Stanley. As I said, I’m bound by confidentiality, so I can’t say much. But his indiscretions are well known on campus, even amongst students. So if you hear any rumors about him, they’re probably true.”

  “Can you give me an idea of what I’m dealing with?” Aliyah said, feeling overwhelmed and anxious.

  “I can’t speak on that,” Jacob said. “But you need to be careful, personally and professionally. He can’t be trusted.”

  How could I have been so naïve? Aliyah thought in self-rebuke. When Dr. Warren first spoke to her about Dr. Stanley, Aliyah should have told her supervisor that she needed time to think over any changes different from what Dr. Bivens had suggested. But Aliyah had been so keen on being accommodating that the possibility that Dr. Warren had intended anything except to make Aliyah feel intimidated had never crossed her mind. No wonder Dr. Warren had seemed to anticipate Aliyah’s resistance.

  “And of course, don’t let anyone know I told you to ask about him,” Jacob’s voice said through the phone. “Anything you learn, keep to yourself for future reference. You’re gathering this information for your own protection, not to share with anyone else.”

  “Okay,” Aliyah said, doubtful. “But who should I talk to?”

  “You’re probably safest talking to someone who’s no longer at the college,” Jacob said, apology in his tone, “if that’s possible.”

  “Does my uncle know anything about Dr. Stanley?” Aliyah asked, hopeful that she could rely heavily on Benjamin instead of other people.

  “Yes…” Jacob said noncommittally. “Through rumors. But some of the sisters who’ve attended the college should know more.”

  “I’ll get on that right away, insha’Allah,” Aliyah said. “JazaakAllaahukhairan for telling me.”

  “Wa iyyaki,” Jacob said. “I was hoping you would never have to deal with any of this directly. But qaddarAllah,” he said with a sigh. “Allah does what He wills.”

  There was an extended silence.

  “I’m really sorry about everything that’s happening with Deanna,” Aliyah said, her thoughts shifting to her former friend. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

  “I might take you up on that,” Jacob said, his tone exhausted and reflective. “But right now, we just need your prayers.”

  “Of course,” Aliyah said. “I pray for your family every day.”

  “Thank you,” Jacob said. “That means a lot.”

  “How is Mrs. Michaels, by the way?” Aliyah said. “Is there any improvement?”

  Aliyah heard Jacob exhale, and she hoped she hadn’t touched on too sensitive a subject. “Allah knows best, but the doctors say they see signs of improvement, but nothing significant.”

  “Do they think she might wake up?”

  “They’re not sure,” Jacob said. “But I’m praying she does. For everyone’s sake,” he said, “even mine.”

  Aliyah was unsure if she had the right to ask, but her curiosity was piqued. “Why yours?”

  “I never really got to talk to her about Islam,” Jacob said, “at least not in depth. There was always so much going on that it never felt like the right time.”

  “Well, I pray yo
u get the opportunity,” Aliyah said, unsure what else to say. She had no idea if it was realistic to expect Mrs. Michaels to wake up from a coma, let alone to be lucid enough to have conversations about religion.

  “I do too,” Jacob said reflectively. “I really do…”

  A thought came to Aliyah suddenly. “If I run into any problems with Dr. Warren or Dr. Stanley,” she said hesitantly, “should I call you or my uncle?”

  There was a brief pause as Jacob considered Aliyah’s question. “Whatever you think is best,” Jacob said finally. “You’re welcome to call me anytime, but depending on the nature of the problem, you may feel more comfortable talking to your uncle. Either way, I plan to stay in touch with both of you though I’ll be pretty busy for the next few weeks.”

  “That’s fine,” Aliyah said. “I understand.”

  “But I do apologize for all of this,” Jacob said. “I never intended for you to be in the middle of any of it. But unfortunately, every workplace has its set of problems, and Dr. Stanley is one of ours. And Dr. Warren, though well-intentioned at times, too often lets her resentment of religion, and Muslim men in particular, cloud her judgment, so Dr. Stanley takes every opportunity to exploit that.”

  “May Allah protect us,” Aliyah said, unsure what else she could say. It was all so overwhelming.

  “Ameen. That’s my prayer,” Jacob said sincerely. “In the end, it is Allah who is our Protector. I have to keep reminding myself of that.”

  ***

  At 10:30 Sunday morning, Aliyah sat across from Salima at a restaurant booth as they watched the boys play together in the mall. The bumper car section wasn’t yet open, but Ibrahim and Haroon were enjoying themselves on the jungle gym next to it. In between smiling and laughing at the boys, Aliyah and Salima ate from their plates of waffles and omelets and sipped from glasses of orange juice and apple juice.