His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  “And how do you know what that is?” Aliyah asked.

  “We don’t,” Jacob said. “That’s what self-reflection, naseehah, and Istikhaarah are for.”

  Aliyah thought of how, still, after reflecting on what was best, getting advice from her uncle, and praying about everything, she remained indecisive.

  “But I’m not naïve,” Jacob said. “I know we have a long road ahead of us. But as a father, what’s most important to me is that my sons understand their higher purpose in life. I don’t want to trivialize their struggles,” he said. “But I don’t want to exaggerate them either.”

  “What if the community doesn’t accept us?” Aliyah felt self-conscious for worrying about what people think, but she couldn’t help voicing her thoughts aloud. “You saw what they did when they thought you wanted a second wife.”

  “We either be patient,” he said, “or find a new community.”

  “You’re willing to move?” Aliyah said, her voice rising in pleasant surprise.

  “It’s something I’ve been thinking about,” he said honestly. “For the sake of my sons more than anything. But I’m still praying about it because there are a lot of good people here, mashaAllah.”

  “But do you think it’ll be better anywhere else?” Aliyah said doubtfully. “From what I hear, Muslims are pretty judgmental no matter where you go.”

  “People are judgmental no matter where you go,” Jacob said. “But there’s definitely something to say for a new start. People are most accepting when they aren’t given the opportunity to have an opinion.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you really think we’d be the first blended family in this community?” Jacob asked. “It’s just that others came to the community already remarried,” he said. “Or no one knew anything about their former wives or husbands. So they were accepted for who they are, no questions asked.”

  Aliyah nodded reflectively. “I never thought about it like that.”

  “When people know anything about you,” Jacob said, “they feel they have a say in what you should do with your life. It’s just human nature.”

  Aliyah rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. It’s just minding other people’s business.”

  “I agree,” Jacob said. “But that’s why Allah talks so much about avoiding suspicion, assuming the best, and guarding our tongues. Humans have a natural tendency to get involved in things that have nothing to do with them. I’m not saying it’s right,” he said. “But it is natural.”

  Aliyah grunted. “Everyone is an expert in everyone’s life,” she said in lighthearted sarcasm. “Except their own.”

  Jacob chuckled. “That’s the unfortunate truth,” he said. “But there’s not much we can do about it. All we can do is focus on our own lives and souls. People are people, and I don’t think they’ll be changing any time soon.”

  “But it’s wrong,” Aliyah said, a tinge of aggravation in her voice. “We’re not just people. We’re Muslim.”

  “And Muslims are people, Aliyah,” Jacob said. “I’m not saying it’s fair to have to move my whole family to another city just to live in peace. But this is the world we live in. If your life choices make people uncomfortable, they feel justified in mistreating you,” he said. “Even if you’ve done nothing wrong.” He shrugged. “It’s sad. But it’s really more their problem than yours.”

  “It doesn’t feel like that,” Aliyah grumbled.

  “Allah is the best teacher,” Jacob said. “Remember that.”

  Aliyah was silent as she considered what Jacob had said.

  “So don’t worry too much about people,” he said. “They have their lesson coming.” There was a thoughtful pause before he added, “As we all do when we focus on things that are none of our business.”

  “Astaghfirullah,” Aliyah muttered reflectively, invoking God’s forgiveness.

  “But if it weren’t for my sons,” Jacob said, “I wouldn’t even consider moving. Living your life based on people’s definition of right and wrong is exhausting,” he said. “Allah is my Lord, and that’s who I’m focused on, bi’idhnillah.”

  Aliyah sighed. “I wish I had your resolve.”

  Jacob nodded reflectively. “It took me a long time to get here,” he said. “But it’s natural to worry about what people think. I don’t think we can help it.” He paused thoughtfully. “But I suffered so much from trying to do what everybody thought I should, I just don’t have the capacity anymore.”

  Aliyah rubbed the eraser of the pencil on the table, her thoughts distant.

  “Now I see these tests as an opportunity for my family to draw closer to Allah,” Jacob said. “So I don’t put too much stock in the superficial ideals of the world. I’m going on with my life, with or without people’s approval.”

  ***

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Sayed asked, an uncertain expression on his face as he looked at his wife. He was dressed for work and holding up his mobile phone as he asked the question, and Reem was in front of their walk-in closet, nervously sliding clothes to the left and right as she looked for something comfortable to wear under her abaya.

  “No,” Reem said without turning around. “But you already called in sick at work, so we should go ahead and do it.”

  “Reem, I’m more than happy to just spend the day with you. With Hana and Muhammad at your mother’s house, we can do whatever you want.”

  “I need to heal,” Reem said, still looking toward the closet.

  Sayed creased his forehead. “Dr. Goldstein suggested this?”

  “No,” Reem said. “But it’s something I need to do.”

  There was an extended pause. “Why?” Sayed said.

  Reem yanked a maxi dress from a hanger and turned to face her husband. “I don’t know,” she said, slight agitation in her voice. “It’s just the first thing that came to mind, so that must mean something.”

  “I support you,” Sayed said tentatively. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

  Reem coughed laughter. “It’s a little too late for that,” she said. “Being born into this family has made me do a lot of things I regret.”

  “But if your parents find out—”

  “Mashael agreed to keep our names out of it,” Reem said. “I’m trying to heal, not ruin our lives.”

  “What next though?” Sayed said. “I mean, if he agrees to become Muslim?”

  “We plan a wedding insha’Allah,” Reem said matter-of-factly as she slipped out of her housedress and tossed it to the bed.

  “You can’t be serious,” Sayed said, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Your father should be involved before it goes that far.”

  Reem grunted as she pulled the maxi dress over her head. “He’s been involved the whole time,” she said. “Just in making sure it never happens.”

  “But that’s his right,” Sayed said defensively. “I’d hate to wake up and find out Hana is married and I didn’t know anything about it.”

  “Then wake up now,” Reem said, smoothing the cloth of the maxi dress with her hands. “Stuff like this only happens when parents go to sleep on their children and ignore their needs.”

  “He’s trying to protect her.”

  Reem met Sayed’s gaze with her eyes narrowed. “He’s trying to protect her?” Her tone conveyed disbelief. “He’s not trying to protect her, Sayed. He’s trying to protect himself. And our family image.”

  “But we don’t know anything about Sheldon.”

  “And why’s that?” Reem said, folding her arms challengingly. “Because he’s so mysterious?”

  “You know what I mean,” Sayed grumbled.

  “We’re losing Mashael. Did you know that?” Reem said. “Just like my family was losing me when I was in high school.” She huffed and shook her head. “Right now, she cares what we think. But one day that will change, Sayed. Everybody has a breaking point.”

  Sayed nodded thoughtfully. “I just don’t want you stres
sed out any more than you already are.” He sighed. “And the truth is, I’m worried about Mashael. I wish she would just listen to your parents. What if Sheldon turns out to be a bad person? Then what?”

  Reem drew in a deep breath and exhaled in a single breath. “I don’t know, Sayed,” she said, impatience in her tone. “There are a lot of what ifs. But what we do know is, Mashael thinks he’s a good person. The least we can do is be there for her. If he turns out to be a bad person, at least we’ll be part of her life when she finds out. If we turn our backs now, then she has no one to turn to when she needs help.”

  “But you’re being impulsive,” Sayed said, his voice soft in rebuke. “And we agreed to avoid that,” he reminded her. “This decision has long-term consequences, so we have to be ready for everything that comes along with it.”

  “I’m ready,” Reem said, walking to the closet and removing an abaya from a hanger. “If I’m going to rebel for the sake of anything, it should be this. I don’t want to lose my sister.”

  “But you’re not in high school anymore,” Sayed said. “You have a lot at stake.”

  “Like what?” Reem said, meeting Sayed’s gaze challengingly as she laid the abaya over the bend in her arm. “My parents’ good opinion of me? Because I think I lost that years ago.”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” Sayed said. “There’s no way you can know how this will affect your family long-term.”

  Reem was silent as she put her arms into the sleeves of her abaya and lowered her chin as she buttoned the front. “Did I tell you I tried to kill myself when I was seventeen?”

  Sayed’s expression conveyed shock, concern, and confusion. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it.

  “Yes, I know,” she said sarcastically. “It’s not exactly what you expect to hear from a good Saudi girl, is it? But that’s how far this family drove me.”

  Reem looked pointedly at her husband. “Do you know how it feels to think dying is better than living?” she said. “Even though you know you might end up in Hell?”

  Sayed’s lips formed a thin line, but he didn’t say anything.

  “So don’t tell me about risks and sacrifice and family,” Reem vented, eyes glistening in emotion. “I almost lost my life, Sayed,” she said, her voice becoming shaky. “And my soul. And you know what my parents did about it?”

  Sayed didn’t respond.

  “Nothing,” she said angrily. She turned and yanked a khimaar from a hanger before meeting his gaze again. “Because they had no idea. And you know why they were so oblivious?”

  There was an extended silence.

  “Because they didn’t even try to see me,” Reem said as her eyes filled with tears and her chin quivered. “I walked around like some stupid robot.” Her voice became high-pitched from emotion. “I smiled at everybody and pretended like everything was okay. Then one day I decided to just end it all, you know? Eff it. And you know who saved my life?”

  Sayed didn’t know what to say.

  “A group of friends who saw me down the pills at school,” she said. “They forced me to throw it all up. And when I came home later that day barely even walking straight, you know what my father said to me?” She huffed at the memory. “‘Be more careful about your appearance, Reem,’” she mocked in exaggerated falsetto, “‘because if you look like you don’t care, who will want to marry you?’”

  Silence filled the space between them for some time.

  “So yes, maybe this is impulsive,” Reem said, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand. “And maybe it’s the stupidest thing I’ll ever do. But right now, my sister is alive, and she still believes her family cares about her,” she said. “And I don’t want her to ever find out she’s wrong.”

  ***

  Aliyah’s cell phone rang just as she and Ibrahim walked into the apartment late that afternoon. After she closed the door and locked it, Aliyah looked at the display. It was a number she didn’t recognize. Aliyah’s thoughts went immediately to the conversation she’d had with Larry about Jasmine. For a fleeting moment, Aliyah considered letting the call go to voicemail, but she felt bad for trying to avoid her new Muslim sister. She pressed the green icon instead.

  “Hello?” Aliyah said as she put the phone to her ear.

  “Is this Aliyah?” a female voice said.

  “Yes…”

  “This is Yasmeen,” the woman said. “I met you at the mall the other day? You were with Salima.”

  “Oh, Jasmine?” Aliyah smiled knowingly.

  Aliyah heard Jasmine laugh good-naturedly. “Yes, that’s me,” her chipper voice said. “But I’m Muslim now.”

  “MashaAllah,” Aliyah said, excitement in her voice, unsure what else to say.

  “But I’m still trying to learn everything,” Jasmine said.

  “Of course,” Aliyah said sincerely. “It takes time.”

  “I want to start with the basics, you know?”

  “I understand,” Aliyah said as she motioned Ibrahim to the kitchen and walked behind him. “You have to take everything step by step.”

  There was an extended pause, and Aliyah sensed Jasmine was trying to figure out the best way to ask for her assistance.

  “Can you help me learn everything?” Jasmine said in a small voice. “I mean, whenever you have time?”

  Aliyah drew in a deep breath and exhaled as she opened the refrigerator and gazed absently inside for some time. “I’m really busy these days…” she said as she pulled out a glass casserole dish sealed with a plastic top. “So I’m not sure how much help I’d be.”

  “Anything you can do is fine,” Jasmine’s voice said through the phone.

  “The masjid has new Muslim classes,” Aliyah said as she set the casserole dish on the counter. “Maybe you can go to those?”

  “I kind of wanted one-on-one, you know?” Jasmine said hesitantly. “I’d feel strange sitting in class with a bunch of strangers.”

  “I see…”

  “So do you think you can help?”

  Aliyah kneeled down to remove a nonstick skillet from a lower cabinet. “Not much,” she said honestly. “But I can see what I can do.”

  “I really appreciate it,” Jasmine said eagerly.

  “When do you want to start?” Aliyah said, overcome with dread as she realized she was agreeing to precisely what she didn’t want to do.

  “This weekend?”

  Aliyah set the skillet on the stove and poured a tad of olive oil in it, mentally kicking herself for agreeing to help. “I’m busy most of this weekend, so I’m not sure if—”

  “I don’t need much time,” Jasmine interjected.

  “O-kay…” Aliyah was unsure what to say.

  There was a thoughtful pause.

  “How about this?” Aliyah said. “I can meet you this weekend insha’Allah, and then I can introduce you to some other sisters who might be able to help. How does that sound?”

  “That’s fine…” Jasmine said tentatively.

  “Good, alhamdulillah,” Aliyah said. “Which day is best for you? Saturday or Sunday?”

  “Saturday,” Jasmine said quickly.

  Aliyah wondered if Jasmine still planned to eat Sunday brunch with Larry’s family after they came from church. “How does ten o’clock sound?” Aliyah said.

  “Ten o’clock is perfect,” Jasmine said. There was a brief pause. “Can you text me your address?”

  Aliyah drew her eyebrows together and glanced sideways at the phone. She hoped Jasmine wasn’t expecting a personal invitation to her home. “I’ll text you the address to the masjid,” Aliyah said. “We can meet there for about thirty minutes insha’Allah. But I won’t be able to stay much longer because I have somewhere else to go.”

  “The masjid?” Jasmine sounded disappointed.

  “Unless you have somewhere else we can meet,” Aliyah said, trying to sound amiable. “I’m open.”

  There was an extended silence. “I guess the masjid is fine…” Jasmine said fina
lly.

  “Good, then I’ll see you Saturday at ten insha’Allah,” Aliyah said.

  After ending the call, Aliyah chatted with Ibrahim about his day as she stood at the stove, heating the leftovers. As she set Ibrahim’s plate of food in front of him and started to prepare her own, her phone chimed and vibrated from where it lay on the counter next to the refrigerator. Still holding her plate, she walked over to the counter and glanced at the screen.

  Any closer to your decision about Jacob? Benjamin’s text message said.

  Aliyah hesitated briefly before powering off the phone and joining Ibrahim at the table. She didn’t want to think about Jacob right then.

  ***

  Friday evening Aliyah slowed her car to a stop in front of Salima’s house for the Muslim Marriage Monologues gathering. Aliyah was running late because both she and Ibrahim had fallen asleep that afternoon and slept longer than they intended.

  Any closer to your decision about Jacob?

  Aliyah thought about her uncle’s text message as she put her car in park. She still hadn’t responded. She was supposed to visit Benjamin and his wife Saturday afternoon, but she really didn’t know what to tell him. Aliyah couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that was ecstatic about the idea of marrying Jacob. Other than the social awkwardness they’d face if they remained in their Muslim community, Jacob seemed like the perfect match.

  But Aliyah couldn’t bring herself to believe that this theoretical perfection would translate well into reality. As much as she shared Jacob’s and her uncle’s beliefs about doing things for the sake of Allah instead of for people, Aliyah wasn’t convinced that she was up for another round of bullying from Muslims. Not to mention the humiliation she’d face once Deanna found out.

  “Will Younus and Thawab be here?” Ibrahim asked as he unbuckled his seat belt, his eyes glistening in excitement as Aliyah looked at him through the rearview mirror.

  She forced a smile as she thought of Younus and Thawab being bona fide brothers to Ibrahim. Her son would probably bask at the idea. “I don’t think so, cookie monster,” Aliyah said affectionately, unbuckling her seat belt. “But I think Haroon will be, insha’Allah.”