by Umm Zakiyyah
A knock at the door brought Tamika to her feet and since she was already covered in the prayer garment, she didn’t bother to speak through the wood. Exhausted from knowledge of what was behind her, and dread of what was before her until her release from the room tomorrow night, she sighed and opened the door. In that brief moment she prepared the rehearsed smile she would wear to greet whatever classmate or friend was coming to visit or say goodbye.
Tamika brought a hand to her mouth in surprise in the moment it took her to realize who it was. A smile spread so broadly on her face that she couldn’t have hidden the sincere pleasure and child-like joy she felt upon seeing her husband opposite her when he was supposed to be home. Immediately, she threw her arms around him, forgetting, and unable to care, that they were in public view. The fullness of his embrace told her he hadn’t missed her any less. As she nestled against him, she inhaled the sweet scented musk that had come to define him. He was actually here. It felt like years since they had been this close.
“As-salaamu’alaikum.” Tamika could feel the guttural vibrations of his greeting from where she held her face against him and savored the sound of his deep voice.
“Wa’alaiku-mus-salaam,” she said more to the collar of his shirt than to him.
They released each other to allow him to enter, and he knelt to retrieve two full plastic grocery bags that he apparently had set on the floor before knocking. Raising her eyebrows, she grinned.
“What’s this?”
“A surprise.”
She could not contain herself after she closed the door and locked it. She immediately knelt next to the bags and peered in, smiling broadly. “Dinner.”
He nodded. “But we won’t eat it here.”
Creasing her forehead, she looked at him.
“You’re coming home early. I miss you.”
Shy from the flattery, she returned her gaze to the bag. “But it’ll be cold.”
He shrugged. “I thought of that. But I miss the Chinese restaurant down the street from here, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to eat from it one last time.”
Tamika felt him staring at her, and she met his gaze with a grin. “What?”
“You’re beautiful, barakAllaahufeek.”
She shook her head as she stood. “You got me beat in that camp.”
He laughed. “I wish.”
She pulled the khimaar from her head and stepped out of the skirt before sliding the closet door open and removing an abiya and khimaar to wear home. “What about my things?”
“I’ll load them while you get dressed.” He surveyed the room. “Is this everything?”
She nodded. “I didn’t bring much.”
“Good.” He lifted a box and started for the door, still grinning at his wife. Tamika unlocked it and opened it for him, a smirk on her face as she relished the attention.
Aminah rested her hand on the mouse as she brought the miniature arrow on the monitor to the send button and clicked. She didn’t want to end the e-mail right then, but she heard her mother coming up the stairs and knew she would be coming into the guest room to tell her that they were going out. Aminah had not heard everything, but she heard enough to know that her parents had been arguing. She felt bad that she was the cause of the tension, but she found it difficult to avoid blaming her mother for being so difficult. What was so wrong with Aminah marrying Zaid? What was she supposed to do? Live with her parents for the rest of her life? It frustrated Aminah even more that her mother wouldn’t give up her obsession with Aminah marrying Abdur-Rahman, or Teddy, as his mother called him.
Abdur-Rahman and his father had been Muslim for nearly three years now and his mother for a little over a year. Sarah had met the mother in a furniture store last year while she was shopping for Sulayman’s apartment. Aminah still remembered the day her mother had come home, grinning and bursting with pride.
“You won’t believe who I met today,” she had told Aminah, who had graduated from Streamsdale just days before. Aminah was putting her clothes away after moving back home from the dorm room she had shared with Tamika. Sarah hadn’t waited for a response. “Faith Anderson.”
Aminah had stared blankly at her mother, pausing from where she held a drawer open, poised to place a folded T-shirt there. “Who?”
“We were in undergrad together. Same sorority.”
“Oh.” Aminah smiled, happy because her mother was, and laid the T-shirt on top of the others, gently pressing it to make room for others.
“And she’s Muslim.”
Aminah’s eyes widened as she met her mother’s. Now that was something. “No.”
“Yes.” Sarah began pulling clothes from Aminah’s luggage and putting them away. “She lives in Dunwoody with her husband and son.” She paused and grinned at Aminah. “Who are Muslim too.”
“What?” Aminah couldn’t believe it.
“Her husband is a writer and travels a lot. Turns out he took a trip to Morocco three years ago as a part of some research he was doing for a book and took his son with him.”
“That’s where they became Muslim?”
Sarah shook her head. “Her husband became Muslim in Syria a year later. Then came home to find out his son had accepted Islam on his own while he was gone.”
“What about Faith?”
She sighed and sat down on Aminah’s bed, smiling as she held a dress she had placed on a hanger. “She resisted at first. She’s a psychologist specializing in counseling abused women.”
Aminah frowned as she placed another shirt in the drawer, a bit offended that Islam always seemed to be misconstrued as a religion that mistreated women.
“And a self-proclaimed feminist. Once she read enough to learn what Islam was really about, she was fine.”
It would be a month later that Aminah would meet Faith and see Abdur-Rahman for the first time. They had been invited to dinner, and Sarah was a bit apprehensive because she was unsure if they would be expected to sit together and chat. Aminah’s mother also was unsure if the men would try to shake her and Aminah’s hands, and she didn’t want to offend Faith.
Aminah’s first impression of Abdur-Rahman was reflected in her bewilderment when he came into the living room carrying two animal cages, one holding a pair of birds and the other a hamster. He introduced himself as Abdur-Rahman, but during dinner (which, thankfully, ended up being separate from the men) Aminah learned from his mother that his real name was Theodore. He chose the Arabic name that meant servant of the Most Merciful because he liked the meaning and its implication of God’s mercy to all creatures. When he read that it was one of the two names most beloved to the Creator himself, he announced it would be his.
Abdur-Rahman had carried the two cages at his side with his arms out and elbows bent, making it easy for him to lift each cage as he included his pets in any conversation he was having.
“Did you hear that, Freddie? The young madam’s name is Aminah,” he said after holding a similar conversation with Ismael and Sarah. Sulayman hadn’t come, and right then Aminah envied him. “And she looks a bit scared,” he said to the hamster. “Go on, tell her you don’t bite.” He lowered his voice and whispered audibly, “And tell her I don’t either.”
Aminah heard Faith and her mother laugh, and when she looked up, she saw her father suppressing a grin. But she could tell he was as uncomfortable as she with the exchange. Thankfully, Abdur-Rahman didn’t attempt to shake her hand and instead sat on the couch next to her father, setting the cages on either side of him so that Ismael was sitting next to the birds. Abdur-Rahman ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair that hung just below his ears and smiled at no one in particular as he spread his arms on the back of the couch.
His brown eyes were two different hues, one a shade darker than his hair and the other hazel. For some reason, they seemed to fit him, and Aminah found it difficult not to stare, not only because of his bizarre appearance but because he seemed so at ease and carefree in his peculiarity. She would have thought him ob
livious to how he appeared to others, but there was an air of benevolence about him that made her suspect he was neither aware nor oblivious. He was who he was, and that was enough for him. Now with one foot resting with its ankle on a knee, he said, “So what brings you guys to our world?”
Aminah was not surprised to learn that he had skipped two grades and was prevented from skipping more only because of his parents’ concern about his socialization. In the middle of ninth grade, Faith told Sarah over the course of their budding friendship, she pulled Theodore out of school and home-schooled him. He frequently took trips with his father and sometimes read three books in a day throughout the course of his home education. He finished high school at fourteen and undergrad at seventeen, a philosophy major. He delayed his masters so he could travel and finally completed it at twenty-one, this time in political science. He would have gone on to get his PhD, but he was tired of school, he had told his mother, contending he learned more from books, travel, and people. It wasn’t a surprise to his parents when he followed his heart and opened up a pet store that was unique because it was the only one that offered pet entertainment and pampering on call. He even had a pet-sitting segment, which he operated from his office at the back of the store. Though it wasn’t what she envisioned for her son, Faith supported Teddy because it was what he loved.
“So what inspired you to finally accept Islam?” Ismael had asked Abdur-Rahman while they still sat on the couch with the animals.
“There was this prostitute,” Abdur-Rahman said, and Aminah winced. She glanced around the room, pretending to be undisturbed. She couldn’t look at her parents because she knew their eyes would reflect what she felt. “I read how she fed this thirsty dog. And just like that, all her sins were forgiven.”
Oh. Aminah exhaled, having not realized she was holding her breath. She had read the story. It was one of the famous stories told by the Prophet to demonstrate the vastness of Allah’s mercy, and to encourage kind treatment to His creatures.
Aminah closed the window on the computer screen and pulled a book from the stack next to the monitor so she wouldn’t have to explain to her mother what she had been doing. Of course, her father knew. Aminah and Zaid communicated through Ismael’s e-mail account so that he could stay abreast of their correspondence and prevent writing or talking for leisure.
Although Aminah had seen Zaid on occasion, she had never spoken to him, not even on the phone. She learned four months before that he was interested in her after her father told her Zaid had called to express interest in marriage. Ismael had asked what she knew of him. Taken aback by the brother’s interest, she told her father that she only knew that he was the cousin of one of Tamika’s friends whose family was helping with the food preparation for the walimah.
After talking to her father, Aminah had wanted to call Zahra, Zaid’s cousin, but she called Tamika instead. Surprised, Tamika said that Zahra had never mentioned him, and she openly wondered if Zahra knew. A week later Tamika called to tell Aminah that Zahra’s entire family knew but was discouraging him because there was a distant cousin of his he was expected to marry.
“We’re going out,” Sarah said, and Aminah turned to see her mother peering through the door. “You need anything?”
Aminah shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“We’ll be back late, inshaAllaah.” Sarah started to close the door. “If you don’t mind, can you put the rest of the laundry away? It’s in the family room.”
Sarah was gone before Aminah could respond. Aminah wished she hadn’t closed the e-mail window. Now she couldn’t access the account. Her father had left Zaid’s e-mail open for her so she could reply. But she didn’t have the password to access the account herself. There was more she wanted to say in response to his explanation of his idea of establishing an Islamic household.
Aminah waited until she heard her parents leave before drafting the rest of her reply in text format. She saved the draft and planned to read over it after she finished putting away the clothes. She was a bit exhausted from cleaning the bathrooms and walls and helping her mother dust all the rooms, but she knew her mother wanted everything perfect before tomorrow, when guests would begin arriving.
Chapter Two
“I’m not looking forward to this.” Tamika carefully applied mascara to her eyes in front of the full length mirror affixed to the door of her bedroom. It was an hour after sunset, and they were still exhausted from the graduation that morning. Thankfully, Sulayman and Tamika had been excused from going to the restaurant for brunch with the family, since they had a lot to do before tonight.
“I’m not either.” Sulayman pulled on his black dress socks from where he sat on the edge of their bed behind Tamika, enabling him to talk to her reflection.
“You talked to your family?” he asked after a second’s thought.
“Mm hm. They called yesterday from the hotel.”
“Who came?”
“From Milwaukee, Aunt Jackie and my mom. I saw them at the graduation. I wanted to introduce you, but that was before we found each other.”
“None of your cousins came?”
Tamika shook her head as she returned the top to the mascara and secured it. “Only Ayanna.” A smile crept on one side of her mouth. “She had nothing better to do.”
Sulayman laughed. “Curiosity then?”
His wife nodded as she set the mascara case on the night stand next to the bed. “Mostly.”
“Your brother and sister?”
“I haven’t heard from Latonya. She should’ve gotten in late last night. But I didn’t see her this morning. I doubt Philip is with her though. He’s hard to catch up with. But I’m sure he would’ve refused to ride all the way from Chicago. With a paid plane ticket, he might consider.”
Tamika ran her fingers through her permed hair. Her hairdresser had styled it that morning and neatly trimmed it in a wrap so that the hair fell down the back of her neck and reached around until the rest rested against one collarbone. The hair dresser had already done Tamika’s makeup, but Tamika wanted to reapply some fresh mascara and lipstick before they left for the banquet hall.
“The way you describe them, it’s hard to believe they’re twins.”
“Fraternal.”
“Well, that’s obvious.”
They both laughed.
“I’m sure she would’ve brought Tyrone along though. I hope so anyway. I want to see Nikki and Tareq.”
“You think she would’ve left Tyrone to babysit?”
Tamika grinned as she found the lipstick she wanted and returned to the mirror before removing the cap. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Sulayman stood and examined his black dress pants to make sure he hadn’t wrinkled them while sitting. “Hopefully I’ll get a chance to do da’wah.”
“To Tyrone?”
“And Philip.” He buttoned his white dress shirt and left the top button. “If my uncle came, maybe him too.”
Tamika raised her eyebrows from where she applied lipstick in the mirror. “That should be interesting.”
“You never know.”
She nodded as she puckered her lips then rubbed them together to distribute the maroon color evenly. “That’s true. It’s just that I can’t imagine your aunt or uncle Muslim. Of course, I never met your uncle Justin, but Kate—”
“Yeah, she has a lot to overcome.”
“Can you imagine what she would do about her job? A news anchor? SubhaanAllaah.”
“I think about that sometimes. But I think it’s beginning to run her down.”
“You think?”
“A career can only do so much for you.” He picked up a brush and groomed the shadow of hair on his head then his beard. “I figure at a certain point, you have to want something more from life. She’s not getting any younger.”
“Your grandmother would have a heart attack.”
Sulayman laughed. “Yes, she would. She’s still holding on to the belief that my mother is going through a ph
ase. And she’s been Muslim for over twenty years.”
“I just hope she doesn’t pass out when she finds out the men and women are having separate parties.”
He grinned. “That should be interesting. But I don’t think my grandmother was able to come. She was sick, and, last I heard, her doctor advised her not to travel.”
There was a long pause. “You think your mother warned them about the separation? Your aunt and uncle, I mean.”
He shook his head. “Why should she? We shouldn’t have to explain ourselves. But I’m sure Kate already knows. She’s been helping Mom plan the whole event.”
Tamika sighed. “I told my family. But I think Tonya expected that. My mom just got quiet when I told her.”
“It shouldn’t make too much of a difference. The men and women will be in the same building. It’s not like they have to drive to two different places.”
Tamika toyed with the cap of the lipstick and studied it as she twisted it back and forth. “This is new for me too. It feels weird.” She felt her husband studying her reflection from where he stood. Seconds later she felt Sulayman behind her until he brushed against her, obstructing the reflection of the rest of the room. He placed both hands on her shoulders and smiled as their eyes met in the mirror.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
She laughed beside herself. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m telling you again.”
He leaned over her shoulder and pressed his cheek against hers. Seeing their faces side by side always amazed Tamika. Her honey brown skin and almond colored eyes and his light russet tone and emerald green eyes. It often made her smile. Such an odd pair, and a perfect match.
“What are you thinking?” Tamika said.
“I’m remembering your face when I came into the imam’s office that day when you thought you were meeting Omar.”
She grinned. “You still remember?”
“I’ll never forget.”
