His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  He shook his head, shutting his eyes momentarily then opening them to underscore the earnestness of his words. “And you could be bald,” he said, “or suffering from some incurable scalp disease, and it wouldn’t make me see you as any less beautiful than you are to me right now.”

  Aliyah felt tears welling in her eyes, moved by his words, but she willed herself not to cry.

  “Wallaahi,” he said, swearing by Allah, “I have been tested in so many ways in my life, and I haven’t always lived like I was supposed to. And on account of my sins alone, I would’ve never dreamed I could even look in the direction of a woman like you.” He lifted her hands and kissed each of them, his lips resting on them for several seconds before he lifted his head and met her gaze again.

  “So please,” Jacob said, his eyes conveying every bit of emotion Aliyah sensed from his words, “let me love all of you. Because there isn’t a part of you that I don’t fall on my knees every day and thank Allah for.”

  Nodding, Aliyah lifted a hand and quickly wiped her eyes before the tears could fall.

  “And if the blindness of Matt and the superficiality of Deanna were the two things keeping you from relaxing in my company,” Jacob said, “just know that you don’t have to worry about either with me. By Allah, I see you in a way Matt never could,” he said. “And your beauty is far beyond superficial to me.”

  Aliyah felt herself getting choked up again, but a grin formed on her face as she and Jacob held each other’s gazes. When the tears slipped from her eyes, it was Jacob who reached up and wiped them away, his fingers gentle against her cheeks. He then lifted himself up from where he was kneeling and kissed the parts of her face where the tears had fallen.

  A second later, they were kissing each other again, and Aliyah didn’t squirm or protest when his hands reached beneath her khimaar until his fingers played with the kinky tangles of her puffy ponytail. The scarf pin loosened from where it held the fabric in place, and she relaxed as she felt the cloth slip from her head and fall to the floor. Jacob continued kissing her and running his hands over her natural hair until he tugged at the elastic-cloth ponytail holder, her thick hair releasing itself into an afro at the back of her head.

  “I love your hair,” he murmured then continued kissing her. He pushed his fingers into the kinky curly mass and let them get stuck in the tangles. “So beautiful,” he said. “So so beautiful.”

  His words and gentleness made her feel as beautiful as his utterances made her sound, and she felt as if even her heart was smiling at the intense connection between them.

  “That was only…” Aliyah said, catching her breath between words, as he moved to kiss her forehead and hair. “…the first reason.”

  It took a few seconds before he processed what she was saying. “What do you mean?” he said, slightly breathless himself.

  “Matt and Deanna were only the first reason I never took off my hijab in front of you.”

  He immediately pulled back from Aliyah, apology and regret in that sudden motion. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, glancing around for her khimaar.

  Chuckling, Aliyah reached out and grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward her. “It’s okay,” she said, then quickly kissed him on the lips to reassure him. “I just thought you should know.”

  The pain of apology in his eyes almost made Aliyah regret that she had mentioned that there had been a second reason. But she felt it was important for him to know.

  “It’s okay really,” Aliyah said, laughter in her voice. “I’m happy this happened.”

  Jacob looked uncertain, as if he wanted to believe her but wanted to make sure she wasn’t just saying something for his sake.

  “Wallaahi,” Aliyah said, her tone lower and gentle because she really wanted him to know she was speaking from her heart. “This moment couldn’t have been better.”

  “But there’s a second reason…” Jacob said, as if fearing that hearing it would make him feel bad for what he’d done.

  Aliyah nodded. “Yes, but it’s not a big deal.”

  “What is it?”

  An embarrassed smile toyed at her lips as she averted her gaze. There really was no easy way to put this. She heaved a sigh to gather the strength to say what she needed to before looking him in the eye again. “I feared that taking off my hijab and abaya when we’re together would make it that much harder to wait a full year.”

  ***

  “So Aliyah, huh?”

  Salima heard Larry groan at her question, lighthearted dread in the sound. But she could tell he was genuinely uncomfortable with the question. It was late Saturday afternoon, and she held the cordless phone between her shoulder and ear as she stood in front of the sink in her kitchen, rinsing the dishes then placing them in the dishwasher.

  “We’re going there?” Larry said in a pained voice, humor in his tone.

  “Yes, we are,” Salima said, laughter in her voice. But she was not joking in the least. If they were going to get serious, then he had to be completely honest with her about what had happened between him and Aliyah, and about whether or not his heart was still attached to her.

  “I’m telling you…” Larry said as if expressing a complete thought, his voice a warning. He gave a light whistle, as if to underscore the fact that this topic was not a good idea.

  “What?” Salima said, exaggerated defensiveness in her humored tone. “Were you that attached that you can’t even handle her name being mentioned?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” Larry said. “It’s just I know how you women are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It is what it is,” he said, smugness in his tone. “You know how y’all do.”

  Salima felt a twinge of offense, but she fought it. “No. I don’t,” she insisted, her voice rising to underscore her point. She tried to sound as if she were joking, but she sounded confrontational.

  “Here we go,” Larry said knowingly, exhaustion in his voice. But he managed to sound as if he was humored by the exchange.

  “What do you mean, ‘Here we go’?” Salima said defensively. “You’re the one who made a snarky remark about women.”

  “I was just stating the facts,”

  “Such as…”

  “Such as you don’t need a man to tell you how women are,” Larry said. “That’s either a trap or a fight.”

  “Well, with me it’s neither,” Salima said. “I really want to know what you think of us.”

  “It’s not about what I think of you,” Larry said. “It’s what I’ve experienced.”

  Salima rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she picked up a mixing bowl and held it under a thin stream of water. “Then tell me what you’ve experienced,” she said. “It sounds like this Aliyah situation has touched a chord.”

  “Now see, that’s what I’m talking about.” Larry spoke as if he felt he’d been wronged. She heard him cough laughter. “If you’re going to make this about Aliyah, then it’s a lose-lose situation.”

  “Why?” Salima taunted. “Because you still have feelings for her?”

  “Aww man, seriously?” Larry said, laughter in his words. “You taking it there?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Why? So you can crucify me for being a man?”

  “So you’re admitting it?” Though Salima was making light of the possibility, a surge of disappointment weighed on her, and she wished she didn’t care so much about what he felt for any woman.

  “I didn’t admit anything,” Larry said, humored defensiveness in his voice. “I just know any conversation about another woman never ends well.”

  “Why’s that?” Salima said, her voice more serious.

  “Because you women like to believe that if a man loves you, it’s impossible for him to have feelings for anyone else.”

  Salima’s heart softened at his casual mention of the word love. It was flattering that he would discuss it in connection with her, even if indirectly. “I don’t even bel
ieve that’s true for women,” she countered. “So I definitely don’t expect it from a man.”

  The extended silence on the other end of the phone told Salima that Larry hadn’t expected that response.

  “You serious?” Larry said, humored disbelief in his tone.

  “Yes, why not?” Salima said. “We’re all human.”

  Larry huffed, conveying in that small sound how impressed he was with her perspective. “That’s different,” he remarked reflectively.

  “What’s different?” Salima said, a smile in her voice.

  “Women being honest.”

  Salima laughed out loud, unable to suppress how hilarious she’d found his statement. On one level, she felt that she should be offended, but Larry’s frankness was so honest that it was both refreshing and comical.

  “What?” she heard Larry ask. Hearing the laughter and genuine confusion in his voice only made her laugh harder.

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally, trying to pull herself together. “It’s just funny how blunt you are.”

  “Oh,” Larry said, coughing laughter, uncertainty in that sound. “That’s new,” he remarked. “Most women are offended by my bluntness.”

  “Well, I can’t fault them for that,” Salima said, smiling and shaking her head as she leaned over to place the mixing bowl upside down on the bottom rack of the dishwasher. “You certainly have a way with words.”

  He was silent momentarily. “I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Larry said finally.

  Salima shrugged, still smiling. “Well, it certainly wasn’t meant as an insult. It was just an observation.”

  There was a thoughtful pause. “You don’t have anything to worry about with me,” Larry said. “I hope you know that.”

  Salima drew her eyebrows together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “With Aliyah or Jasmine or anyone,” he said. “The only reason I didn’t approach you sooner is because you were way out of my league.”

  Salima’s cheeks grew warm, and the smile returned to her face. “Out of your league? How?”

  Larry huffed, as if the answer was obvious. “Are you kidding me? You’re like this…” He paused, searching for the word. “…spiritual icon,” he said finally, making Salima overcome with self-conscious flattery.

  “MashaAllah,” she muttered humbly.

  “MashaAllah,” he repeated, but more heartfelt, as if he were more certain of her amazingness than she was.

  “So you didn’t think I was some washed-up old widow?”

  She heard Larry laugh, and the sound was so heartwarming that she felt herself laughing too. “Have you looked in the mirror, girl?” Larry said, the last word coming out as a groan of admiration. “There’s nothing old about you.”

  “Except my age…” she said tentatively.

  “Age ain’t nothin’ but a number,” he said.

  She smiled wide.

  “But Salima is not a number,” he said with a huff, a litany of flirtatious implications in the way his voice rose with her name.

  “Then what is she?” Salima said, humor in her tone.

  “She’s—” He huffed again, and there was a pause that was a beat too long. “Let’s not go there,” he said, his voice serious, as if in self-rebuke. “I want to save some things for later.”

  Salima’s eyes widened as she brought a hand to her mouth. “I didn’t mean…” she stuttered, her face going warm.

  “I know, I know,” Larry said sincerely, his voice subdued. “But as you know, subtlety is not my strength. And the last thing I want to do is disrespect a Muslim queen like you.”

  “MashaAllah,” Salima said, as if thanking him.

  “I’m just keeping it real,” Larry said honestly.

  “Well, I appreciate the respect,” she said, her voice low and reflective. “Truly.”

  “Well, I appreciate the honor of you letting me speak to you.” He spoke as if he knew she’d never agree to marry him. “Someone as regal as you deserves nothing but respect.”

  She was quiet momentarily, uncomfortable with the way his words seemed to lower himself while raising her up. “And someone as honorable as you deserves no less respect,” she countered.

  Larry coughed in self-conscious laughter. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m serious.” The tone of Salima’s voice mirrored the honesty of her words. “You are honorable, mashaAllah.”

  “I still have a lot to work on,” he said, as if still beating himself up over the misunderstanding between him and Aliyah and Salima.

  “We all have a lot to work on, Larry,” Salima said, her voice soft but firm in its insistence. “The fact that you realize that about yourself is in itself honorable. And that’s a lot more than I can say about most brothers in this community.” She grunted. “Or sisters.”

  The extended silence made Salima’s heart drop in sadness. She feared that her thoughtless remarks to Aliyah many months ago had left him with deep insecurities regarding his spiritual worth.

  “Just make du’aa Allah blesses me with a righteous wife.” Though his words came out confident, Salima sensed that they were laced in melancholic self-rebuke.

  “So you’re giving up on me already?” Salima teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “Nah,” he said, drawing out his response as if he were still lost in thought. “I just want to see you with the right person.”

  “And why can’t that be you?” Normally, Salima wouldn’t be as forward as this, but she didn’t want Larry to hang up thinking she thought she was better than he was. Larry wasn’t giving himself enough credit, and she wanted him to know it.

  “Come on, Salima…” he said, as if egging her to admit that she already knew the punch line of a joke that had been left unfinished.

  “I believe in Allah, Larry,” she said firmly after a thoughtful silence. “Do you?”

  He didn’t respond immediately. “Yes,” he said finally. The single utterance was so humble and sincere that it sounded as if he were testifying to his shahaadah again.

  “Do you believe that He is Al-‘Aleem, Al-Hakeem?” she said. “The All Knowing, the All Wise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe in al-qadr, His divine decree, the good and the bad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe in al-Lawhil-Mahfoodh, the Preserved Tablet above the heavens in which Allah inscribed everything that will happen until the Day of Judgment.”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice low, as if in humble submission to the glory of his Creator. “I do.”

  “Then can you tell me, with certainty, that as we speak,” Salima said, her voice a gentle challenge, “the All-Knowing, the All-Wise has decreed that you and I should never get married, and that someone else is written for us in that inscription above the heavens?”

  Larry was silent for a few seconds, and Salima could sense that he was moved to self-reflection. “No, I can’t,” he said quietly, subdued emotion in that sound.

  “Then let’s find out what is written for us.”

  ***

  Aliyah and Jacob talked for hours, taking a break only to call their sons inside to shower, pray Asr, and eat. After Jacob led everyone in prayer and everyone had eaten, Younus, Thawab, and Ibrahim retreated to the playroom while Aliyah and Jacob returned to Jacob’s home office to continue talking.

  After Jacob closed the door and locked it, Aliyah removed the khimaar and abaya she’d worn for prayer, revealing a white low-neck long-sleeved fitted T-shirt and wide-legged jeans. It wasn’t the outfit that she would’ve chosen that morning had she known that Jacob would see her uncovered for the first time. Nevertheless, she felt comfortable and relaxed in his presence, even as she wished that her hair had been plaited or twisted in an attractive style before he’d removed her khimaar. But she figured that it was better this way. If he could appreciate her casual, homey look, then she wouldn’t feel pressured to keep up a stellar appearance. And he’d be more enamored with her beauty whe
n she took the time to dress up for him.

  “But I’m grateful for my marriage to Deanna,” Jacob said, lowering himself onto one of the large floor pillows that lined a wall. He motioned for Aliyah to join him, and after hanging her khimaar and abaya on the back of his office chair, she sat down on a pillow next to him.

  “Alhamdulillah,” Aliyah said. “I think that’s the best way to look at it.”

  He put his arm around Aliyah and pulled her to him. It was as if it were the most natural gesture in the world. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he forked through her hair with his fingers, even as they kept getting caught in the tangles.

  “It’s the only way to look at it,” she heard him say above her head. “It taught me so much.”

  “MashaAllah,” she muttered, enjoying the relaxing comfort of his hands stroking her head.

  “I think Deanna was a blessing and a punishment for me.”

  Aliyah pursed her lips thoughtfully. “At the same time, you think?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Jacob said reflectively. “But I didn’t realize the punishment part until a year ago.”

  Aliyah drew her eyebrows together, intrigued. “So before that,” she said, “you thought of your marriage as a blessing?”

  He huffed, humor in that sound. “Can you believe it?”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. “I don’t really know what your relationship was like,” she said tentatively, unsure if uttering yes or no was an appropriate response. She didn’t want to taint the sincerity of his reflections by saying anything negative about Deanna. For this sensitive subject, Aliyah wanted to offer a compassionate listening ear, and no more.

  “Well, it was rough to put it lightly,” he said. “I was miserable almost every day since we got married.”

  Forehead creased, Aliyah moved her head so she could look Jacob in the eye. “Every day?”

  “We had our moments,” he said tentatively, exhausted regret in his voice.

  The irony of the statement was not lost on Aliyah. Both his confession and subdued tone was like that of one confessing to the occasional argument or fight in a relationship rooted in mutual love and compassion. But he was speaking of the occasional moments of happiness in a relationship filled with agony and regret. The realization was so weighty in its sadness that she just quietly laid her head back on his shoulder. Her thoughts grew distant as she relaxed under the massage of his fingers through her hair.