His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  Aliyah glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was 5:33. She picked up her mobile phone and bit her lower lip indecisively as she sat on the edge of her bed. Aliyah wanted to leave for work in an hour, so if she was going to arrange childcare, she needed to do it now. She powered on her phone, and her heart pounded nervously as she waited for the main screen to load.

  Pray Istikhaarah first, a voice said in her head.

  Aliyah set her phone down and raised her hands in prayer. Because she was unable to offer formal prayer due to her menses, she recited the Istikhaarah supplication without first offering two units of voluntary prayer.

  “Allaahumma…” Aliyah muttered, her head bowed. O Allah, I seek Your counsel by Your knowledge and by Your power I seek strength and I ask You from Your immense favor, for verily You are able while I am not and verily You know while I do not and You are the Knower of the unseen. O Allah, if You know this affair of me leaving Ibrahim with Larry to be good for me in relation to my religion, my life, and end, then decree and facilitate it for me, and bless me with it, and if You know this affair to be ill for me towards my religion, my life, and end, then remove it from me and remove me from it, and decree for me what is good wherever it be and make me satisfied with such.

  Aliyah lowered her hands and immediately felt the indecisiveness leave her heart. I should leave Ibrahim with Larry so he could be with Younus and Thawab every day, she realized. Though a sense of shame at her predicament still lingered, it was not as strong as before.

  Aliyah drew in deep breath and exhaled as she picked up her phone and scrolled to Salima’s name before putting the phone to her ear. Her hopes were deflated when the call went immediately to voicemail. Salima was probably still sleeping. As Aliyah prepared to leave a message, she heard an automated voice say that the voicemail box was full. Defeated, Aliyah ended the call and mentally kicked herself for having told Salima that she couldn’t accept Larry’s offer. Now what would she do?

  Call Larry, the idea came to her just then. The thought filled Aliyah with dread. Perhaps Jamil had mentioned the idea to Larry, but there hadn’t been any confirmation. So how would Aliyah explain herself, especially calling so early?

  “Bismillah,” she mumbled, mentioning Allah’s name to mentally block out her doubts. She had prayed Istikhaarah about this, she reminded herself. Aliyah scrolled to Larry’s name and pressed call before she had time to convince herself that it was a bad idea. She put the phone to her ear and listened to it ring three times before it went to voicemail. But Aliyah couldn’t summon up the nerve to leave him a message. A sense of helplessness enveloped her as she ended the call.

  Should I just call Matt? As Aliyah considered the question, her mobile rang, causing her to start. She looked at the phone, and her spirits lifted as she saw the name Larry Bivens on the display.

  “As-salaamu’alaikum,” Aliyah answered after the first ring, apology in her tone. “I’m sorry to call so early,” she said as he replied to the salaams. “But I was just wondering if—”

  “Jamil and Salima already told me,” Larry said, slight exhaustion in his voice as he cut her off. “Do you need me to pick up Ibrahim or you’re dropping him off?”

  “Whatever is best for you…” she said hesitantly. “Where are you?”

  “Right now, we’re at the masjid,” Larry said, no trace of characteristic smugness in his tone. “We just finished praying Fajr, so we can pick up Ibrahim on our way home if you like.”

  “We?” Aliyah repeated in confusion.

  “Jacob and I,” Larry clarified. “We’re here with Younus and Thawab.”

  Aliyah felt self-conscious at the thought of Jacob stopping by her apartment. “Where will the boys be today? Maybe I can meet you there.”

  “Now we’re heading to Jacob’s insha’Allah,” Larry said. “Then I’m taking the boys to a soccer field close to the house.”

  Aliyah was even more uncomfortable going to Jacob’s home than she was with him coming to hers. But if Larry was going to be taking care of Ibrahim, then she would have to get over her apprehension. “I guess, for today you can pick up Ibrahim and then we can talk later about what to do for the rest of the summer.”

  “Okay,” Larry said, “then we should be there in about thirty minutes, insha’Allah.”

  “Okay…” There was an awkward pause. “Larry?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s no problem,” his voice said sincerely through the phone. “This is the least I can do after all the trouble I’ve caused you,” he said, lighthearted humor in his tone. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

  “You didn’t cause me any trouble,” Aliyah said. “It’s just…”

  “You don’t have to explain,” Larry said. “I haven’t been the best Muslim brother to you. I realize that now.”

  There was a thoughtful pause. “But just so you know,” Larry said with characteristic smugness, but Aliyah sensed he was trying to sound cordial, “Jasmine is not my girlfriend.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation,” Aliyah said, not wanting to talk about Jasmine right then. It was still a sensitive subject for her, and she didn’t want to ruin the glimmer of affability they’d maintained so far. “I was just—”

  “No,” Larry interjected, apology in his tone, “I do. Salima told me about your run-in at the mall, so I just thought you should know that it’s Jasmine who still considers me her boyfriend. But when I became Muslim, I ended the relationship.”

  “Well, mashaAllah,” Aliyah said cordially, unsure how to respond. “At least she’s thinking about becoming Muslim now.”

  Aliyah heard Larry cough in laughter. “Is that what she said?” he asked doubtfully, sarcasm in his tone. “Because last I knew, my family had given her the assignment of luring me back to my so-called senses.”

  “Oh…” Aliyah didn’t know what to say.

  “As in back to Christianity,” Larry clarified, reflective disappointment in his tone. “But like the hypocrites Allah talks about in the Qur’an, she’s Yasmeen whenever she tries to reconnect with me, but when she’s around my family, she’s telling them that she’s really on their side.” He grunted. “So I shouldn’t be surprised they’re inviting her over every second they get and telling me we should get back together.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Aliyah said sincerely. “I thought…”

  “Don’t be,” Larry said. “I explained everything to Salima last night when she told me about Ibrahim.” Aliyah heard Larry laugh, but it was clear he was not happy. “And don’t worry,” he teased good-naturedly, “Salima already apologized for painting me as a womanizer. So I accept your apology too, for believing her.”

  Aliyah coughed laughter, embarrassment in that sound. “We didn’t think you were a womanizer…”

  “Just not a one-woman man?” Larry finished knowingly, humor in his tone. “Well, I can’t speak about the future, but so far, that’s all I’ve been. That’s how I was raised, and that’s how I intend to remain in marriage.”

  “I’m sorry,” Aliyah said again, unsure what else to say.

  “It’s okay,” Larry said sincerely. “I can see how I gave off that vibe. So I accept part of the blame. I’m still learning all the Muslim social codes, you know?”

  Aliyah laughed in agreement, immediately reminded of her own confusion in that department. “I can definitely relate to that,” she said. “I still haven’t figured them out.”

  “That’s encouraging,” Larry said jokingly.

  “I’m sorry,” Aliyah said humorously. “You’ll probably catch on faster than me. I’ve never been good at socializing, even before I became Muslim.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Larry said. “Because I was quite the socialite before Islam,” he said in a playful brag.

  Aliyah laughed. “I can see that,” she said sincerely, humor in her tone.

  There was an extended pause.

  “But you don’t have to worry abou
t me bothering you anymore,” Larry said, his tone reflective and subdued. “I think you deserve someone better than me.”

  Aliyah started to reply but realized she had no idea what to say. “MashaAllah,” she muttered in embarrassment.

  “And with my brother back on the market,” Larry said in lighthearted humor, “I’d rather we clash on something other than a woman.”

  “MashaAllah,” Aliyah said again, feeling self-conscious and flustered.

  “So I’m just going to keep praying that Allah sends me a righteous Muslim wife.” He coughed laughter. “Whoever she is,” he added. “So if you have any good friends, let me know.”

  “I will,” she said sincerely, surprised by how much she genuinely hoped Larry would find a good wife.

  When Aliyah hung up the phone, she couldn’t help feeling a bit ashamed of herself. “O you who believe,” Aliyah recalled reading in an English translation of the Qur’an, “if there comes to you a disobedient one with information, investigate [and verify it], lest you harm a people out of ignorance and become, over what you have done, regretful.” This ayah from Surah al-Hujuraat would probably forever remain a lesson for both Salima and Aliyah. While Salima should have known better than to believe Jasmine’s version of the story, Aliyah shouldn’t have so readily believed the secondhand information.

  “Alhamdulillah,” Aliyah mumbled to herself, grateful that Larry had a forgiving heart. She was also grateful that she didn’t have to feel stressed around him anymore. But it would probably take her some time before she forgave herself for judging Larry so harshly.

  ***

  Monday morning after Sayed left for work, Reem sat on the edge of her bed staring indecisively at her mobile phone that lay on the nightstand. Sayed had given Reem the name of the psychiatrist that Jacob had told him about, and Dr. Melanie Goldstein fit all three of Reem’s conditions. She was female, spiritual, and not connected to the Arab community. That she also was not connected to the Muslim community (and was in fact over an hour’s drive away) was an added bonus. Why then was Reem hesitant about setting up an appointment?

  Perhaps, it was her Arab blood paralyzing her. She would probably always feel inclined to protect her family’s honor and image, even at her own expense. And what’s so wrong with that? she thought defensively. Wasn’t it betrayal to reveal to a complete stranger what her half brother had done? Though he was a teenager at the time and she was a young child, he was probably just as ignorant and confused as Reem was. Could she really blame Fahad for harboring resentment toward Reem’s mother after his father married her as a second wife? Reem couldn’t imagine how it would feel to see her mother have a nervous breakdown. It was only natural that Fahad would take out his frustrations on his father’s second family, especially the children that had come from the union.

  Anyway, what if she was remembering everything incorrectly? She didn’t want to slander her brother. Maybe he didn’t mean to touch her inappropriately and say that he had a right to because she was his sister. Maybe he really thought what he was doing was okay. Just because he was much older didn’t necessarily mean that he knew better.

  Reem’s stomach convulsed as the sudden memory of Fahad’s hand on her four-year-old chest flashed in her mind. She frantically shifted her thoughts to the phone call she needed to make. She didn’t want to remember where else he had touched her—or if he had touched her at all. What if this was all a bad dream that she had fabricated because she hated him so much?

  “Halwah, wallah,” Reem heard Fahad’s guttural voice in her ear. Panicked, she looked over her shoulder toward the bed she shared with Sayed. She trembled when she saw that no one was there. Tears stung her eyes as she exhaled a jagged breath. No, she wasn’t making this up, she realized in helplessness and despair. She had been the filthy little girl who had made her own brother desire and loathe her at once.

  But why could Reem remember things only in flashes? And why, of the little she recalled, were the memories so choppy? For years she had interacted with Fahad normally, without even the slightest recollection of what had occurred. So why was everything coming back now? And why was she losing patience with people who had nothing to do with what Fahad had done? Maybe Dr. Goldstein would be able to help Reem sort out what was happening to her.

  For the first time since she’d started teaching Qur’an at the masjid, Reem had called the imam to cancel all her classes. When she’d hung up, she had shortness of breath, fearing she had thrown away the last thing that had mattered to her. But she really didn’t feel capable of teaching Qur’an right then. She barely trusted herself to leave the house. What if she had an angry outburst at the store or bank? Dressed like she did, she would probably end up in jail. No one would imagine that the veiled girl was having a panic attack or a bad day. To the rest of the world, Muslims were one dimensional and existed only in the context of religion. Human suffering and struggle were problems that only other people faced. So Reem couldn’t trust herself in their presence. Any erratic behavior would be interpreted as a threat to their safety as opposed to a threat to her own.

  What if the psychiatrist herself was an Islamophobe? Reem thought in panic.

  “Jacob said she’s respectful of Muslims,” Sayed had said.

  Before her anxiety got the better of her, Reem snatched up her mobile phone and dialed Dr. Goldstein’s office.

  ***

  “And you expect me to believe that, completely on your own,” Dr. Warren said, regarding Aliyah sternly from where she sat behind her large desk, “without any coalescing with Dr. Bivens, you had a sudden inspiration, a week late might I add, to refuse to work with Dr. Stanley on the internship?”

  Aliyah’s cheeks grew enflamed in embarrassment. Aliyah was flustered, as she was completely out of her element. She wasn’t used to openly contesting authority. “I’m saying that based on Article thr—”

  “Save it,” Dr. Warren said, lifting a palm to stop Aliyah midsentence. “I decline your request.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Now get out of my office.”

  Bewildered, Aliyah walked slowly down the hall back to her office. What is going on? she thought in exasperation. Aliyah closed the door to her office and collapsed into the chair behind her desk. Why was Dr. Warren so insistent on Aliyah working with Dr. Stanley? It made Aliyah wonder if Dr. Warren was planning something more unkindly than even Jacob had surmised.

  After a moment’s consideration, Aliyah scrolled to Jacob’s name in her phone. “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” Aliyah said after giving Jacob the salaams. “But I did what you suggested, and it didn’t go well.”

  “What happened?” Jacob said, his voice rising in concern.

  Aliyah told Jacob point-for-point about her brief meeting with their supervisor.

  “I was afraid she might do that,” Jacob said, exhausted frustration in his voice.

  “This isn’t good, Aliyah,” he said regretfully after a few seconds. “I can’t lie to you. I was hoping this was only about me, but it looks like they have some vendetta against you too.”

  “But why?” Aliyah said, exasperated. “Dr. Warren and I were getting along just fine.”

  Aliyah heard Jacob sigh. “Aliyah,” he said, as if trying to find the best way to convey what was on his mind, “at the end of the day, Dr. Warren is a professional, and she’s not going to do anything to jeopardize her position, at least not overtly. But her suggesting you to be chosen for the internship was not only because she thought you were a good professor. She never liked my internship idea in the first place.”

  “But…” Aliyah didn’t know how to form the question in her mind.

  “I know it doesn’t make sense,” Jacob said apologetically, “but when Dr. Warren sees professors who have a good rapport with students and whose students improve noticeably under their tutelage, she doesn’t have any choice but to reward that somehow. And in your case, I assume she felt the best way to do that was to assign you to the program she values the least.”

  “
But mashaAllah, the internship is going really well,” Aliyah said, a question in her voice. “It was even featured in one of the math journals this summer.”

  “I know,” Jacob said, sad reflection in his voice. “And Dr. Warren resents that, probably not as much as Dr. Stanley though.”

  “I don’t understand why she wouldn’t be proud,” Aliyah said. “It’s her department getting all the attention.”

  “That’s why I think she’s coming at it from a different angle now,” Jacob said. “When I first presented the internship idea years ago, she approved it halfheartedly because she felt that our department should be focusing on our own students instead of wasting time with high school kids, as she put it. Then when things started going well, she tried to have it dismantled completely so she could replace it with a summer program for our math students.”

  “Why couldn’t you just do both?”

  Jacob laughed. “That’s exactly what I said, but Dr. Warren was adamant that the school didn’t have the budget for it.” He added, “Until the dean reviewed her proposal and came up with the same conclusion that you and I did. He was so impressed with the internship that he petitioned for the school to increase the budget for our department.”

  Aliyah chuckled. “I bet that shut her up.”

  “Not completely,” Jacob said, reflective humor in his tone. “It just made her take credit for everything I was doing.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Aliyah said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she held the phone to her ear.

  “But recently, I got the feeling she was reverting back to having it dismantled,” Jacob said. “But after talking to you, I think I was wrong.”

  “What do you mean?” Aliyah asked, brows furrowed.

  “I think she’s trying to have me phased out,” Jacob said.

  “And Dr. Stanley put in your place?” Aliyah said, shocked disapproval in her voice. “I thought she was a feminist. Why would she want someone like him in charge?”