by Umm Zakiyyah
Aliyah released Ibrahim’s hand as she kneeled to take off her shoes, and her son followed suit. After aligning the two pairs of shoes on the rack, she stood and creased her forehead in confusion when she saw a strange man sitting on the couch to the right of Jacob, Larry on the left. Her aunt Valerie sat across from them on the loveseat, but Aliyah didn’t see her mother anywhere.
Aliyah’s eyes scanned the living room then met her uncle’s with a question on her face. He discreetly nodded his head in the direction of the hall, and Aliyah understood that her mother had stepped out briefly, perhaps to the bathroom.
Aliyah’s heart hammered nervously at the realization that her mother was nearby. Aliyah had no idea what to do with herself. She didn’t see any place to sit except on the leather recliner, but she assumed her mother had been sitting there. She stepped into the living room, a tentative smile on her face, Ibrahim clinging uncertainly at her side.
“I’m Joseph.”
Aliyah started, her shoulders jerking. The strange man seemed to have leapt from the couch and appeared before her suddenly, offering her a wide smile. It took several seconds for her to register his outstretched hand as he leaned forward in a stance of eager cordiality.
“Joseph Daniels,” he said. “Cassie’s husband.”
The words Cassie and husband didn’t seem to belong together, though Benjamin had told Aliyah years ago that Cassie was married. At the time, Aliyah had imagined Cassie’s husband to be a feral-type creature with an evil countenance and only slightly human features, much like Cassie herself existed in Aliyah’s mind. Growing up, Aliyah had often been told that she and Cassie resembled each other, and in her infantile naiveté, Aliyah had actually taken it as compliment. It was hard to believe that Cassie, with her sassy attitude and downright cruelty even so many years ago, had been beautiful to Aliyah once upon a time.
But who was this man with a kind face and easy smile, standing before her as if he was honored to merely be in her presence? If he had not introduced himself as such, Aliyah would have doubted that he had any connection to her sister Cassie. Based on Joseph’s amiability and charisma alone, Aliyah wanted to offer him a wide smile and eagerly accept his peace offering in the form of a handshake. Everything about him said family, real family. He gave off the type of warm, genuine vibe that made it almost painful to not greet him with an all-out hug.
Instinctively, Aliyah glanced uncertainly at Jacob, whose expression was one of polite amusement. But Aliyah could see in his eyes reluctant disapproval of Joseph’s gesture. If it were Jacob’s home, he would most likely have intervened to politely discourage Joseph from shaking her hand. But Jacob was supposed to be merely a friend of Benjamin’s, ostensibly with no significant connection to Aliyah. Though his intervention could be interpreted as merely friendly, for Aliyah’s sake, Jacob was opting not to take the risk.
“Nice to meet you again, Joseph,” Benjamin called out from behind them, stepping between Joseph and Aliyah in one motion, causing Aliyah to stumble back slightly. In a brotherly greeting, Benjamin slapped hands with Joseph then shook his hand firmly before guiding him back to his seat on the couch. Joseph’s grin grew lopsided in confusion as he moved awkwardly backwards, his eyes narrowed humorously as if expecting an immediate explanation for Benjamin’s apparent joke.
“As you know,” Benjamin said good-naturedly, the expectant grin still on Joseph’s face as his body reconnected with the couch, “this is my niece, Ally. But we call her Aliyah. That’s her Muslim name.” He offered Joseph a polite smile. “Muslim women don’t shake hands with men.”
Joseph’s face fell in embarrassment as he leaned back into the couch. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” Aliyah cut in affably, flipping her hand dismissively to lighten the blow. “It happens all the time.”
“Cassie never told me,” he said, an embarrassed smile twitching at one side of his mouth. “So I didn’t—”
“Cassie never told you what?”
The voice was thunderous in its authoritative tone, the familiar sound immediately inciting fear that twisted into a knot at the pit of Aliyah’s stomach. Even before Naomi came into view, Aliyah felt her mother’s towering presence. It was like Aliyah was a child all over again and in trouble for something she had no idea she’d done but was going to pay for mightily nonetheless.
Aliyah stiffened as her gaze met her mother’s. But the fear loosened at the sight of Naomi’s thin frame and level height. Naomi’s expression was stern, but her aging brown face was weathered with the taut pride that was the signature of one who hid spiritual and emotional weakness behind formidable strength. In that moment, Aliyah’s fear dissolved into sorrow that was so pained that it permeated every limb to physical weakness, and Aliyah felt too weak to stand. I don’t want my mother in Hellfire! Childlike panic suffocated Aliyah and constricted her chest.
“Come here, baby,” Naomi uttered in a tone that teetered between rebuke and compassion. A thin smile fought its way to her closed lips, but it was apparent that even this slight expression taxed Naomi to the point of emotional strain.
Aliyah offered an equally hesitant smile, but because she was holding back emotion more than she was fabricating it. Aliyah embraced her mother, slowly shutting her eyes as she inhaled the sweet scent of her mother’s perfume, relaxing in that gesture. The aroma made Aliyah forget her agony of moments before and incited in her the assurance that she had a family and that she was loved. She had forgotten how it felt to belong to something bigger than herself, a collection of spirits bonded by the cozy shelter once offered by one woman’s womb.
But Naomi’s arms felt like steel bars locked around Aliyah’s torso. Naomi’s body was a steel rod in Aliyah’s grip, erected in a show of obligatory affection that a mother long absent could not withhold from her child. It was in that fleeting moment that Aliyah sensed a cold barrier drop between them, a silent but resounding thud confirming that the battle lines were being drawn and that her mother was there to win.
Naomi released Aliyah too quickly, and Aliyah felt as if her mother had pushed her aside after the few-second timeframe of the obligatory display had expired. Naomi’s eyes immediately went to Ibrahim, and something in the way she looked at him incited in Aliyah a panicked protectiveness. The feeling was so powerful that she had to actually keep herself from snatching her son out of his grandmother’s reach.
“Is this my grandbaby?” Naomi placed her hands on her hips, baring her teeth to Ibrahim in what apparently was intended as a disarming smile.
“Yes,” Aliyah said as she looked, smiling, at her son. Her tone was soft despite the growing protectiveness she felt in her mother’s presence. “His name is Ibrahim. It’s Arabic for Abraham.”
Naomi grunted, her thin fingers moving in dismissiveness as if swatting away a gnat. “I know that, baby.” The disarming smile returned to Naomi’s face as she kneeled in front of Ibrahim. “Your mother doesn’t know your grandma can read,” she said to Ibrahim. “I’ve seen all those beautiful pictures of you in my email.” She pinched Ibrahim’s cheek, causing him to draw back and stand at his mother’s side, finding Aliyah’s hand with his own. “It would’ve been nice if your mother took the time to come visit her mother,” she said, still smiling wide. “That’s what a good Christian daughter would do.”
Annoyance surged in Aliyah’s chest, and she struggled to maintain a respectful countenance. She gently pulled her son closer and leaned his head against her hip with the flat of her palm.
“But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Abraham? Have you ever read the Bible, dear? Or is your mother making you read that awful Koran?”
“Naomi, that’s enough.” Valerie was on her feet, clipping her sister’s shoulder and firmly guiding her toward the recliner. “Ally hasn’t even had a moment to sit down.”
Naomi whipped her head toward her sister, the sneer on her face unambiguous in the message she intended to send. But she stiffly and begrudgi
ngly allowed Valerie to lead her back to her seat.
“This is my house,” Valerie said, her soft tone becoming firm and authoritative as she looked her sister in the eye, unblinking.
Naomi’s body met the leather chair in one sudden, angry bending at the knees. Though Aliyah felt anxious for what was about to unfold, she couldn’t contain the pride and gratefulness she felt at seeing Valerie shush Naomi, the older sister and the family’s heavy-handed matron who was known to keep everyone else in check.
“And you will not defame the name of Christ in this house,” Valerie said, hovering near where Naomi sat, her eyebrows rising as if daring Naomi to counter her. “If you want to make this about Christianity, then the least you can do is pretend to know the loving message that our Lord taught.”
The room grew silent. No one had expected this reaction from Valerie, and both Naomi’s and Benjamin’s expression testified to that.
This was a turning point for the two sisters, Aliyah knew it just as certainly as if they had spoken it aloud. She couldn’t help feeling a tinge of guilt for being at least partly responsible for this rift.
“I’m going outside to shoot around for a bit,” Larry announced, pushing himself to his feet and heading toward the kitchen without waiting for a reply. In all the commotion, Aliyah had forgotten he was there.
“You have a basketball court around here?” Joseph asked, his tone high-pitched in an effort to show genuine interest in another topic. But it seemed all wrong, the talk of sports amidst what was unfolding.
The sound of the backdoor shutting resonated in the room.
“Out back,” Jacob said, his calm tone as contrived as Joseph’s question. He pushed himself to a standing position then gestured to Joseph affably. “Come on, man. I’ll show you.”
“Joseph will be staying right where he is.”
Joseph was half standing himself when Naomi gave her ultimatum, her voice rising in its obdurate command. He slowly sat back down, undisguised disappointment on his face as he appeared to grumble something under his breath.
It was awkward and disturbing to see a grown man react to Naomi that way. Aliyah wondered what sort of power her mother had over Cassie’s husband to evoke that kind of deference from him.
“You’re the one who insisted on taking this trip,” Naomi said, “so you’re going to sit right through it.”
It was at that moment that Aliyah recalled the conversation in which Benjamin first told her about Cassie’s marriage. “She married a project manager from one of your parents’ youth organizations.” Naomi was Joseph’s boss—and his mother-in-law. Aliyah couldn’t imagine a more deadly combination, particularly when the woman was Naomi Thomas.
“The other children are in the den,” Benjamin said, his voice barely above a whisper as he appeared at Aliyah’s side and laid a hand on Ibrahim’s head. Aliyah nodded without looking at her uncle, and he guided her son out of the room. In her peripheral vision, she saw Benjamin motion to Jacob, who nodded in understanding then sat back down.
“I didn’t expect to—”
“Don’t tell me what you didn’t expect,” Naomi said, cutting Joseph off midsentence as she sat on the edge of the leather recliner as if preparing to get up any moment. “You wanted to learn more about this side of your family.” She grimaced as if something distasteful was in her mouth. “And here we are.” She gestured toward everyone in the room. “Now, learn.”
“Naomi…” Valerie’s voice was a mixture of a warning and a peace offering. “Why don’t we just enjoy ourselves and catch up with everyone? It’s not every day that we get to see each other.”
“Catch up?” Naomi hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits. “When I learned my baby left the church and joined the Moslems, that was all the catching up I needed to do.”
Because she didn’t know what else to do, Aliyah sidled to the couch and sat on the edge of a cushion, perched as far from Jacob as was possible. Her legs were turned away from him, the side of her thigh touching the base of the couch’s arm. Anxiety squeezing her chest painfully, Aliyah sat still, hoping that by remaining quiet and unmoving her mother would forget she was there.
***
“What was that all about, man?” Jacob was looking at Joseph when he asked the question, his forehead creased in genuine curiosity, annoyance etched in his voice.
Heavy-footed and fuming, Naomi had made her grand exit only minutes before, Valerie begrudgingly in tow, and the sound of the slamming front door still seemed to reverberate throughout the house.
Aliyah sat quiet, still perched on the edge of the couch, stiff as a statue, her gaze fixed distantly on something beyond her loosely folded hands on her lap. It was painful for Jacob to even look at her in that state. It took every bit of resolve to keep him from pulling his wife into an embrace, kissing her forehead and cheeks and telling her everything would be okay.
Joseph coughed laughter, an embarrassed grin creasing one side of his mouth. “I don’t know, man,” he said. “I wish I knew.”
“Valerie mentioned you called a few days ago, wanting to talk to me,” Benjamin said from where he stood in the middle of the living room, arms folded. He was looking at Joseph, an intense but kind expression on his face. “Did that have anything to do with what happened today?”
Joseph shook his head as a grim expression shadowed his face. “I guess so,” he said sarcastically, his tone conveying frustration. But it was clear that his annoyance was directed at his mother-in-law. “Cassie probably told her about it.”
“Joseph,” Benjamin said sternly, as if insisting that Joseph level with him, “what’s going on?”
There was thoughtful silence as Joseph seemed to come to terms with his need to be straightforward with Benjamin. “I’ve been reading about Islam,” he said finally, an edge of defensiveness in his tone. “And Cassie’s threatening to leave me if I convert.”
The room grew quiet.
“And I guess Dr. Thomas told her she’ll take care of it,” he added, referring to Naomi.
***
As they walked toward the tennis courts, Mashael was smiling so wide that it was contagious. “What?” Reem said, laughter in her voice, a question on her face as she narrowed her eyes through the slit of her veil and adjusted the strap of the tennis case on her shoulder.
Mashael lifted her left hand in front of her face then wiggled her fingers, the glint of a diamond blinking in the sunlight. Reem’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open behind the soft black fabric on her face.
“Let me see,” Reem demanded good-naturedly as she reached up and yanked Mashael’s hand toward her. Mashael giggled as Reem halted her steps to get a closer look. “MashaAllah,” Reem said, her voice barely above a whisper as she dropped Mashael’s hand and averted her gaze.
“So you’re officially engaged now, huh?” Reem said as she resumed walking toward the courts, her eyes straight ahead as Mashael fell in step next to her. Reem hoped she sounded excited for her younger sister, but it was hard to quell the jealousy that enflamed her heart right then. Why does Mashael get the happy ending? Reem thought pensively.
Yes, Reem was happy for her sister and had of course known this moment would come. She’d even had a hand in making it happen. But Reem couldn’t deny that it felt so unfair. What had Mashael done to deserve escaping the trial of sexual abuse at the hands of their own brother and thus avoiding subsequent emotional trauma? What had Reem done to deserve suffering it?
“Yes.” Mashael beamed in a full-teeth smile. “Isn’t it crazy?” she bubbled. “I didn’t expect him to buy me a ring until after the wedding.”
She doesn’t even cover properly, Reem thought bitterly. Why does she get Sheldon?
Reem stopped herself, reminded of what Dr. Goldstein had told her during the follow-up appointment. “You’re going to have to be patient with yourself. The price of self-honesty after trauma is persistent pain and frustration. Sometimes it’ll be directed at yourself, but sometimes it’ll be directed at other
s, often toward those you love. When you feel this happening, just stop and tell yourself to be patient with yourself. Lashing out at others usually means there’s a part of you crying out for healing. Find out what part that is, and tend to it. But take your time. The discovery won’t happen overnight.”
“When’s the wedding?” Reem heard herself say, pleasantly surprised to hear genuine excitement in her voice.
Mashael’s silence prompted Reem to repeat the question. “When’s the wedding, habeebti?” Reem teased, hoping her playful tone would let Mashael know that she only wished her the best.
Mashael’s face crumpled, and she looked as if she were about to cry. She turned her face away from Reem as they reached the only vacant court. She quietly walked over to the edge and stopped to unzip the soft case. As she withdrew her tennis racket, she kept her back to Reem.
Concerned, Reem quickened her pace until she stood next to her sister. She grabbed Mashael’s bare arm just below the fabric of the short-sleeved polo shirt. “What’s going on?” Reem said, her eyes narrowed and voice lowered so that no one could overhear. “Are you okay?”
Mashael clenched her jaw as she jerked her shoulder to release herself from Reem’s grip. “I’m not talking to you about the wedding,” Mashael said, cold defensiveness in her tone as she folded her arms, the tennis racket raised with the handle against her chest. “So don’t ask me about it again.” She was still avoiding Reem’s gaze.
Behind her veil, Reem’s face contorted. “What?”
Mashael met Reem’s gaze, unblinking in defiance. “I said don’t ask me about the wedding again,” she said, making no effort to lower her voice. “I’m not going to talk about it with you. Ever.”
