His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  “I think it’s less about Dr. Stanley being assigned to my position,” Jacob said, “than me being removed from it. It’s just that Dr. Stanley is the only one who’s vindictive and determined enough to do her bidding. Most of the other professors are focused on other things.”

  “Well, at least the department isn’t corrupted by envy like most workplaces,” Aliyah said.

  “I wouldn’t say that…” Jacob said doubtfully. “It’s just that most of the staff channel their envy into pushing their own programs.”

  “Well, at least that’s productive.”

  “I agree.”

  There was an extended silence.

  “But what do I do about Dr. Stanley?” Aliyah said, her voice etched in worry. “I don’t feel comfortable around him.”

  Aliyah heard Jacob sigh into the phone. “Just keep your distance as much as you can,” he said. “But after I meet with Dr. Warren, I’m going to talk to him myself.”

  “You’re meeting with Dr. Warren?” Aliyah said, fearful that their supervisor would think that she and Jacob were in collusion with each other.

  “We agreed to have a phone meeting every week while I’m out.”

  “Oh…” Aliyah exhaled in relief.

  “Look,” Jacob said, “I have to go. But I’ll probably need your help with Deanna if she pleads not guilty.”

  “Okay…”

  “I can tell you more about it later, insha’Allah.”

  “Okay,” Aliyah said, feeling unsettled at the mention of Deanna, “no problem.”

  They were silent for several seconds.

  “Aliyah?” Jacob said, his voice hesitant.

  “Yes?”

  “I know this is something I said I’d never bring up again, but…”

  Aliyah’s heart constricted in anxiety, hoping there wasn’t another work catastrophe awaiting her.

  “…would it be okay if I talk to your uncle again about marrying you?”

  Aliyah’s face grew warm in discomfort and embarrassed flattery. “Sure,” she said, cringing as she realized she had spoken her thoughts aloud. “I mean, if you want to,” she added quickly.

  “I just don’t want to offend you,” Jacob said uncertainly. “I know we said—”

  “It’s not offensive,” Aliyah said, surprised that her words reflected how she honestly felt. “It’s just…”

  “I know it’s not a good time,” Jacob said, apologizing. “But I keep thinking it’ll never be a good time, you know what I mean?”

  “I think so,” Aliyah said, averting her gaze to the calendar on her desk.

  “An old friend of mine used to say, ‘Every time is a bad time,’” Jacob said, embarrassed laughter in his voice. “‘But it’s up to us to change that.’” There was a brief pause. “That is, if you want to,” he said hesitantly.

  “I’ll definitely think about it, insha’Allah,” Aliyah said, picking up a pen and fidgeting with it. She was taken aback by how excited she felt.

  “There’s no rush,” Jacob said, inciting in Aliyah a flutter of impatient excitement. Why did she fear that “no rush” meant it probably would never happen?

  And why did she care anyway? It wasn’t like she liked Jacob all that much.

  “But I did want to put that out there.” Jacob laughed self-consciously. “Now I can sleep better at night.”

  Aliyah laughed in agreement. “I know what you mean.”

  “You do?” Jacob said, surprise and curiosity in his voice.

  Aliyah’s cheeks grew hot in mortification as she scribbled mindlessly on the desk calendar. “I mean, when you get something off your chest,” she said.

  “That’s true…” Jacob said.

  Aliyah sensed that Jacob wanted to say more but was unsure if he should.

  “Well,” Jacob said finally, “I’ll talk to you soon insha’Allah.”

  “Okay,” Aliyah said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She wasn’t ready to end the call just yet.

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

  “Wa’alaiku mus-salaam wa rahmatullaahi wa barakaatuh,” Aliyah replied, wondering when she would get to talk to Jacob again. But when she ended the call and set her mobile phone on her desk, her lips twitched as she had tried to withhold giggling in pleasure at what had just happened.

  ***

  “Kerri Michaels is awake,” Attorney Bryan Schmidt said to Jacob as they sat across from each other in a conference room at the law office.

  “Since when?” Jacob said, taken aback.

  “Saturday evening, apparently,” Bryan said.

  Jacob drew in a deep breath and exhaled. He had the uncanny feeling that his life was about to shift in an unexpected direction and there was nothing he could do about it. “Okay, so what does this mean for us?”

  “The prosecution intends to use her as a witness in their case,” Bryan said regretfully.

  Jacob nodded thoughtfully, his stoic expression veiling the frantic anxiety he felt at the news. “So what should we do?”

  “You should talk to her.”

  Jacob creased his forehead in confusion. “To Mrs. Michaels?” he said. “About what?”

  “Nothing,” Bryan said matter-of-factly. “Or anything.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. Just show your face, and see how she responds. We need to gauge whether or not she’s going to cooperate with them.”

  “Has Deanna said how she plans to plead?”

  Bryan frowned. “Not guilty.”

  Jacob’s heart sank. “So she didn’t accept the plea deal?”

  Bryan shook his head. “Unfortunately.”

  Jacob drew in a deep breath and exhaled, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

  “Do you think you can visit your mother-in-law soon?”

  “I can try…” Jacob said doubtfully. “But I doubt Barry Michaels will let me near his wife.”

  Bryan frowned thoughtfully. “What if I come up with something to ensure that Barry won’t be at the hospital when you come?”

  Jacob was unsure how he felt about the idea. “Is that feasible?”

  “Yes…” Bryan said, the hint of a mischievous smile on his face. “I’ll just have to give it some thought.”

  “Nothing that will put us in a compromising position,” Jacob insisted. The last thing he wanted was to support something that would make Deanna’s already weak defense worse.

  “Of course not,” Bryan said. “I’m thinking more along the lines of a meeting that he’ll need to attend.”

  Jacob nodded. “Okay,” he said finally. “Just let me know what you come up with.”

  ***

  “So Jasmine was the one who told you her name was Yasmeen?” Aliyah said into the wire mouthpiece that snaked from her ears to the phone that lay on her desk. It was her lunch break, and a paper bag of food was on the desk calendar in front of her.

  “Yes,” Salima’s voice said regretfully. “But apparently, Larry gave it to her, at least indirectly, because she called him one day and asked what her name would be if she became Muslim. So of course, at the time, he got his hopes up. But that was before he met you.”

  “Wow…” Aliyah shook her head. “She made it sound like you and Larry came up with that name on your own.”

  Salima huffed. “Go figure. But I didn’t even think much about what she said. I just thought she was being playful. But she just wanted to make it look like Larry was pushing her to become Muslim.”

  “But she’s pushing him to become Christian,” Aliyah muttered in disappointment. She shook her head as she reached into her lunch bag and withdrew a tuna and spinach sandwich that was sealed in plastic wrap.

  “With the help of his family, it seems,” Salima said, sad reflection in her tone.

  Aliyah was quiet momentarily as she unwrapped her sandwich. “Do you think she’ll ever become Muslim?” Aliyah asked curiously.

  “I don’t know…” Salima sighed. “With someone li
ke that, you never know what they’re thinking. But I was hopeful because I met her before Larry became Muslim, and she seemed like a really nice person.”

  Aliyah coughed laughter. “Everybody seems nice, Salima,” Aliyah said, playfully mocking what Salima’s late husband used to say. “Come up with a better line.”

  Salima laughed in agreement. “I know, right?”

  Aliyah smiled and shook her head knowingly before mumbling “Bismillah” and taking a bite of her sandwich.

  “But I can see why Larry isn’t optimistic,” Salima’s voice said through the earpiece. “She thinks she can woo him back by getting in good graces with his family.”

  Aliyah was silent momentarily as she swallowed her food. “But why make them think she can make him leave Islam?” She contorted her face. “That’s so stupid.”

  “Apparently, she has no idea what Islam really means.”

  Aliyah considered what Salima had said as she took another bite of her sandwich and ate quietly for a few seconds. “Was Larry even at that Sunday brunch or whatever she was going to?”

  Aliyah heard Salima grunt humorously. “No. Can you believe it? It’s a family tradition they do after church, so Larry and Jacob weren’t even there.”

  “SubhaanAllah,” Aliyah said, setting her half-eaten sandwich on the crumpled plastic wrap. “She had me fooled.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Salima said regretfully. “I just feel bad for believing her. Astaghfirullah,” she said in self-rebuke, seeking Allah’s forgiveness. “I should’ve known better.”

  “We both should have,” Aliyah said reflectively. “But it’s an understandable mistake,” she said. “How would you know she was being deceitful?”

  Salima sighed. “But Larry is Muslim,” she said. “I should have made excuses for him. That’s his right.”

  “Astaghfirullah,” Aliyah said in agreement, realizing she should have done the same.

  “I’m just so used to meeting Muslim men who are playing games,” Salima said, sadness in her tone, “and Larry fit the description.”

  “I know…” Aliyah said, sighing as she plucked a lone piece of tuna from the top of her sandwich. “But that goes to show you, you shouldn’t judge.”

  Salima huffed in agreement. “And I thought I learned that lesson years ago.”

  “Like you said,” Aliyah remarked, “we’re all going at this alone. Every day is a lesson in life.”

  “It’s just funny, you know?” Salima said. “As soon as you think you’ve learned something, Allah shows you that you didn’t even understand that.”

  Aliyah drew in a deep breath and sighed. “I know. It’s so scary. I think about that every time I learn something new about Islam.”

  “Me too…” Salima brooded. “But honestly, sometimes I envy the Muslims who feel content with what they know. It makes me wonder if I’m doing something wrong.”

  “You can say that again.” Aliyah smirked and shook her head reflectively. “But the more I read the Qur’an and study the life of the Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wa sallam, and his Companions, I know the one thing you can’t feel content about is your faith.”

  “I don’t mean my emaan itself,” Salima said. “I mean what I’m learning about Islam. It seems like everybody has found this one group or this one teacher they’re satisfied with. And I wonder if I’m missing something.”

  “Everybody’s qadr is different though,” Aliyah said, referring to predestination. “Maybe that one group or teacher will help them get to Jannah. That doesn’t mean it’ll do the same for you.”

  “You really think so?” Salima said doubtfully. “My fear is always, what if they’re wrong? It’s not like every group or sheikh is actually teaching true Islam. Some of them are calling to themselves, or even shirk, you know what I mean?”

  “I meant the ones who aren’t doing that,” Aliyah said. “But I feel the same as you. I think it’s dangerous to put that much trust in one group or person. Allah didn’t ask us to do that. He told us to stay on the Siraat ul-Mustaqeem, and nobody other than the Prophet can claim to always adhere to that.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to say,” Salima said. “So why are they content with just one teacher? The Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wa sallam, said the scholars are the heirs of the prophets,” she said. “Scholars, as in plural,” she added for emphasis. “And that means they’re scholars only if they’re inheriting and sharing what the Prophet actually taught, not anything else.”

  “Exactly,” Aliyah agreed. “And everybody makes mistakes, no matter how good their intentions are.”

  “And no matter how much good you learn from someone,” Salima added, “you still have to stand in front of Allah alone. So how can you just blindly follow someone? Other than the Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wa sallam, I mean?”

  “But the way I look at it,” Aliyah said reflectively, “as long as they stay away from shirk, then Allah can forgive them.”

  “That’s true…” Salima said noncommittally. “I just don’t think getting forgiven is that simple.”

  “I don’t either,” Aliyah said. “We can’t walk around in blinders and think we’ll be excused just because we’re not scholars.” She shrugged. “But then again, maybe they don’t see it as wearing blinders. Someone told me that I’m the one wearing blinders.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Salima said. “That’s what Jamil’s ex-wife used to say. She’d be like, ‘Why are you so arrogant to think you know more than a scholar?’”

  Aliyah rolled her eyes knowingly. “I’ve heard that before. It’s like they pretend that no other scholar exists except their sheikh.” She groaned. “I swear, sometimes I want to ask them the same question. Don’t they realize that agreeing with one scholar automatically means you disagree with another?”

  “Except for issues of ijmaa’,” Salima added, clarifying.

  “And how many issues have absolutely no disagreement amongst all the Companions and earliest scholars?” Aliyah asked rhetorically. “But to be honest, I don’t think about it much anymore. I have my own soul to worry about.”

  “Yeah, but…” There was an extended silence as Salima apparently tried to gather her thoughts. “…when Jamil was married, I saw how it can hurt other people. What if they had children together? When I study the Qur’an, I see a lot of ayaat talking about the effect we have on others. Some people even lead others to the Hellfire. I don’t want to be guilty of that.”

  “May Allah protect us,” Aliyah said as she glanced at the clock.

  “Ameen.”

  “I better get going,” Aliyah said. “The interns are probably waiting for me.”

  “Well, at least Larry was a good sport about our little blunder,” Salima said good-naturedly, apparently in an effort to lighten the mood before the call ended. “So that’s one less thing to worry about for the rest of the day.”

  “MashaAllah,” Aliyah said sincerely. “May Allah bless him.”

  “Aliyah?” Salima said after a brief pause. “Can I ask you something before you go?”

  “Sure.”

  “Would you ever reconsider Larry’s proposal?” Salima said. “I mean, assuming Jacob doesn’t propose again.”

  Aliyah drew her eyebrows together in confusion. “For marriage?”

  “Yes.”

  “No way,” she said, smirking. “We’re too different.”

  “So you’re content being single for the rest of your life?” Salima said jokingly, but Aliyah sensed that something was on Salima’s mind.

  “We’ll see,” Aliyah said as a smile creased one corner of her mouth, recalling the brief conversation with Jacob earlier that day. “Just keep me in your prayers.”

  “Well, let me know if you decide to see marriage in your future,” Salima said, humor in her tone. “I just might know some good brothers I can send your way.”

  “No thank you,” Aliyah said, laughter in her voice. “But I’ll keep you posted insha’Allah.”

  Chapter
20

  Time To Heal

  “You’re suffering from PTSD,” Dr. Melanie Goldstein said to Reem early Tuesday morning, a week after Reem had called to make an appointment.

  Reem’s veil was flipped back revealing her face, and her gloves were folded neatly on top of her handbag that she’d set on the floor. But Reem was having difficulty relaxing, and she kept pulling at loose threads on her black abaya.

  What does she think about Palestine? Even as she asked the question in her mind, Reem knew she was being irrational. Was it possible that living in a close-knit Arab Muslim community had given her an unhealthy distrust of others? She hated when Americans viewed Arab Muslims as one dimensional, so why was she doing the same by behaving anti-Semitic? Certainly, Jacob wouldn’t refer Sayed to someone unsympathetic to Muslims.

  But what if Jacob was unaware of Dr. Goldstein’s views on Palestine?

  Stop it, Reem mentally commanded herself. This is ridiculous. Her question was merely a frantic attempt to avoid accountability for emotional healing. If she could convince herself that the psychiatrist had anti-Muslim views, then Reem would have an excuse to cancel treatment.

  “What’s PTSD?” Reem asked, mentally shifting her focus to the session.

  Though the earliest time slot for an appointment with the psychiatrist had been two months away when Reem initially called, the office assistant had informed Reem that if she could arrive to the office by seven o’clock in the morning, Dr. Goldstein would see her as early as the following week. When Reem had mentioned to Sayed her pleasant surprise that a busy psychiatrist would come to work an hour early just for her, Sayed admitted that he had asked Jacob to personally request that the doctor view Reem’s case as urgent. The gesture had been so moving that Reem had gotten choked up thinking about how compassionate and generous her husband and Jacob were being. But she couldn’t deny how terrified the gesture made her feel. If her husband felt the need to have special arrangements made for her, then she was probably in worse shape than she realized.