What We Learned Along the Way
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“This book is a KEEPER. The characters were so realistic that you could identify with them on so many levels. The story covers so many issues that may be found within the Muslim community and the greater community at large that the reader will find it hard to deny that it touches home. The Author did an excellent job from page one of drawing you in and not letting you go until the last word on the last page of the book was read. Impatiently waiting for the sequel!!!!.. Would definitely buy another book from this author. Well Written and Well Said.”
“I started reading this book at 8pm and could not put it down until 3am. I believed some people can identify with the characters in the book. I am anxiously awaiting the sequel.”
“This is a very good book really glad i read it loved the story from start to finish, read it in one day and cants wait for the next one, but PLEASE hurry up i hate waiting.”
“Nadirah Angail is
the premiere novelist for the current and future generations of
readers. The female and male characters display personalities that's
familiar and extraordinary. The plot is intriguing with every page
read. I'm proud of Nadirah for bringing for realistic examples of
The
human experience!”
“So glad I bought this book. I figured I'd try it since a friend suggested it and I'm so glad I did. I saw a little of myself in every character, especially Aliya. The writing is really easy to read also. I read it all in one day! Highly recommended for muslims and non Muslims.”
“The only thing I didn't like about this book was that it ended too soon! I hope there is a sequel.”
“This book pulled me in and wouldn't let go.
I'm not sure I could have less in common with these women, yet at the same time I wanted to know all about them and felt for them on so many levels. The author has created a myriad of characters that feel real in a setting that is timeless, facing the same challenges we all face. I'll be keeping my eye out for more from Nadirah Angail.”
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What We Learned Along the Way
by
Nadirah Angail
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PUBLISHED BY:
Nadirah Angail at Smashwords
What We Learned Along the Way
Copyright © 2011 Nadirah Angail
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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For: Everyone searching for self and those who have already found it.
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Glossary of Islamic Terms
Abaya- over garment, worn over clothes
Al-Fatiha- Opening chapter of Quran
Alhamdulillah- means “All praises due to God.”
Allah- Arabic word for “God.”
As salaam alaikum- greeting, means “peace be upon you”
Ayatul-Kursi- Famous verse from the 2nd chapter of Quran
Eid- Muslim holiday, literally means “reoccurring festivities”
Hijab- In this context, used to refer to headscarf worn by women
Imam- Muslim religious leader
Inshallah- means, “If it is the will of Allah.”
Khutbah- speech or sermon given by an Imam
Kufi- religious hat Muslim men wear as a marker of their faith and devotion.
Mosque- Muslim place of worship
Nasheed- Islamic singing and chanting
Wa alaikum salaam- response to greeting, means “and peace be upon you too”
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Chapter 1- Malikah
“You’re wearing that?” Malikah’s mother asked as she stood in the half-open door and gave her daughter a disapproving glare.
“No, mother, I just wanted to put it on and stare at myself in it,” Malikah said sarcastically.
“Honestly, Malikah, do you even care about finding a husband? You can’t expect to meet a nice young man if you’re not at least presentable.”
Malikah let out a loud huff. “And what would you suggest I wear, mother?”
“I don’t know, but not that,” she said as she started to leave the room, but not before sticking her head back in the door for one last comment. “It makes you look fat,” she added. Then she left.
Malikah slammed her door and walked over to the closet to find another, more presentable outfit. The sound of her phone ringing pulled Malikah from her search.
“Hey, girl, I’m outside.” Malikah pulled the curtain back and saw Mariam’s blue Honda in the driveway.
“On my way,” Malikah told her. She took one last look at her outfit in the mirror. “Why bother,” she said with a small sigh. She closed her closet door and left her room, careful not to cross her mother’s path.
“As salaam alaikum,” Mariam greeted her as she hopped in the car.
“Wa alaikum salaam. So, where are we going?” Malikah asked with a curious smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I told you it’s a surprise. It’s your birthday. Just relax and have fun,” her friend reassured her. Malikah smiled, but she felt a little uneasy. She hated surprises and remembered how horribly her last surprise had gone. The plan was to have a simple dinner party at Starr. Everything was going well until Muhammad, the surprise guest Malikah had been in love with for years, showed up. She hadn’t seen him in months, but was pleasantly surprised when he walked into the dimly lit room looking better than ever. Her plan was to let out a cool “Hey, how’s it going?” as she casually leaned on the big glass fish tank beside her.
It started off fine, until she realized the tank was not stationary, but on wheels. Too late. She had already leaned her weight into it and was scrambling to regain her balance. She fell to the floor and had no choice but to watch the fish tank slide into a table and crash to the ground, leaving a flood of smelly water and helpless fish flopping around on the floor.
The mere thought of that day made her cringe.
Mariam saw the horror in her friend’s face and felt the need to comfort her. “Don’t worry. There won’t be any fish tanks where we’re going,” Mariam said, flailing her arms around in imitation.
“Oh, that’s real funny, Mariam. That’s just what I needed, but seriously, where are we going?” Just as she asked that question, she recognized the neighborhood they were entering. They were going to Jaime’s house. “Jaime’s coming?” Malikah asked in disgust. “I don’t want her ruining everything.”
“Malikah, come on. You know you two are always getting into fights. Then, you make up and act like nothing happened. It’s what you two do.”
“No, Mariam, it’s what we used to do. I’m tired of her looking down her nose at me, treating me like I’m such a heathen. I may not be the model Muslim, but that’s no reason for her to act like she does.”
“You know how she is, Malikah. She doesn’t mean anything by it. She can’t help it; look at her parents. Let’s just all go out and have fun,” Mariam pleaded.
Malikah took a second to think. “Well, her parents are the most judgmental people I’ve ever met,” she admitted. “Remember how shocked her father was when he first met us? He couldn’t believe we wore pants.” The two of them laughed until they pulled up to Jaime’s house. “Okay, you’re right. We have been friends forever, but she’s not going to keep treating me like this. We’re getting way too old for this.”
The two of them were still chuckling when Jaime approached the car.
“What’s so funny?” Jaime asked as she opened the car door.
“Nothing,” they said in unison.
“You look nice,” Mariam complemented Jaime. Malikah didn’t want to admit it, but Jaime did look nice. Even though Jaime only wore Islamic clothing, she always looked great. Her long A-line abayas were always covered with delicate details and flowed so nicely on her body. She and her parents traveled a lot, so most of them were from other countries. Malikah never wore abayas. She thought they made her look short and dumpy, but not Jaime. On her long, lean, statuesque frame, they looked perfect. Though Malikah would never say it to her face, she thought Jaime looked like the Muslim Miss America. Malikah wished she could look half as beautiful.
While they drove, Mariam talked to Malikah and Jaime talked to Mariam, but Jaime and Malikah said nothing to each other. Malikah loved her friend and hated giving her the silent treatment, but she was tired of her snide remarks. Jaime was smart in both secular and religious knowledge, and she made sure everyone knew it. Any chance she got to make herself look good at someone else’s expense, she took. When Sister Khadijah, mother of the only two decent looking young men at her mosque, began to inquire about Malikah, Jaime made it a point to suggest herself as a far more fitting option.
“Oh, Malikah, she’s a wonderful sister,” Jaime told Sister Khadijah in her sweetest voice. “She’s in college and is really going somewhere in life. In fact, she spends so much time at school that she’s hardly ever at the mosque. You know how busy the women of today are,” she chuckled. “Never any time to pray or study the religion.” She then gave a long speech, as if running for political office, about how she was ready for marriage and extremely dedicated to being a great wife and mother. Malikah would have never known about Jaime’s scheme had it not been for her sister Kalimah, who happened to overhear the whole thing. When Malikah confronted Jaime about the situation, Jaime apologized, but Malikah felt the apology was just as fake as every other one she had ever given.
Chapter 2- Aliya
“Not another one way,” Aliya complained as she drove through downtown Houston, looking for the concert hall. She hated driving her new car through congested areas like downtown. The last thing she needed was a dent in her fresh, red paint. After driving in a few circles, she finally saw a sign that read “Divas All-Stars Concert, This Way.” She let out a huge sigh of relief and let the huge arrows lead her in the right direction. Now that she knew where she was going, she could relax. Aliya put the window down to let in some fresh air. She loved the feeling of the wind blowing through her big, wild hair.
Aliya was the only one in her group of friends who never covered her hair. When she was younger, she covered all the time and never imagined there’d come a day when she wouldn’t, but things had changed. It started when she was 16, after her mother died of cancer. In one year’s time, she went from being the head of her Muslim youth group to not going to the mosque at all. Now, four years later, she had basically removed all aspects of Islam from her life. One day she would reconnect, but not now.
She pulled into the parking lot and checked the time. The concert started at 8 o’clock, and it was only 7:15 pm. She called Mariam to see how far away they were. When Mariam told her she had just picked up Jaime and still had another 30-minute drive, Aliya decided to walk around a bit. There were a lot of men in the parking lot, and Aliya couldn’t help but smile. Unlike her friends, she was not looking for a husband. She just wanted to have fun. Every other Muslim woman she knew had been looking for a husband since the age of 14, but that was the last thing on Aliya’s mind. She didn’t care if he was Muslim, Christian, or any other religion. She was an equal opportunity dater.
Ironically enough, she had found through her years of dating all different types of men that she liked Muslim men the least. She felt they were too strict and always trying to control her, just like her father. He always had something to say:
“You’re pants are too tight.”
“Why don’t you wear hijab anymore?”
“You don’t pray anymore.”
She couldn’t stand her father’s nagging or the arguments that inevitably ensued, so she kept her visits short and sweet. That was the only way she could consider her relationship with him peaceful. Plus, she knew it broke his heart to see his only child so far removed from the religion.
As Aliya walked through the crowd, she was surprised to see so many men at such a girly concert. After she thought about it, though, it made sense. What better place to catch women than at a “Diva’s All-Stars” concert? She wondered if there would be nearly as many men inside the concert as there were in the parking lot, but it really didn’t matter. They were there now. That’s all she cared about.
As usual, men flocked to her, but she ignored them all. She sauntered past the whistles and cat calls like she didn’t even hear them. Aliya used to talk to those kinds of men, the immature, aggressive ones that would start a conversation with “Damn, you fine, girl,” the kind that felt completely free to grab her hand—or any other body part he saw fit— without asking permission. But she was 20 now, and she was looking for something different, someone different.
She saw a small refreshment stand and decided to get a drink. As she walked toward the stand, she studied the menu. She studied it so hard that she didn’t even notice she was walking directly into a man who had knelt down to tie his shoe.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said as she began to walk away, eyes still fixed on the menu. She didn’t even see his face and wouldn’t have paid him any more attention if it hadn’t been for his voice.
All he said was “No problem,” but that was enough to stop her in her tracks. His voice was so deep that she could actually feel the vibration in the hand she had placed on his shoulder to catch her balance. She turned around to see the face the voice belonged to and, to her surprise, it was even more breathtaking. Among all the gold teeth, baseball caps and sagging, male skinny jeans, she had managed to trip over a gorgeous man in pair of nice fitting dark denim jeans with a crisp white button down and a thick head of freshly twisted locs.
Aliya was usually pretty witty when she talked to men, but this time she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“You alright?” he asked as he dusted off his shoe and stood up with a million-watt smile.
She couldn’t think of anything more to say other than what she had already said. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. Aliya had talked to many men before, and this was the first time she had been rendered speechless by one.
“It’s okay. I guess I picked a pretty bad spot to tie my shoe.”
“Oh no, it’s all my fault. I mean, I should have been looking where I was going. I’m not usually this clumsy. I’m actually pretty graceful, or at least that’s what people tell me. I’m not crazy, you know. I don’t make it a habit of walking into cute men.” Oh no, did I really just say that out loud? Aliya was nervous. She couldn’t stop talking. She couldn’t believe she was becoming one of those goofy, rambling women she usually felt sorry for.
He could tell she was nervous and thought it was cute, but he knew he had to rescue her from herself. He put his hand on her shoulder and cut her off in mid-sentence. “My name is Langston. What’s yours?” Finally, she had stopped talking.
“Aliya,” she managed to say after a deep breath.
“Well, Ms. Aliya, I have to get going. I hope you enjoy the show.” He shook her hand and then began to walk away. Aliya stood there in shock, trying to get herself together. She watched him walk toward the entrance, and then turned around to walk back to her car. She had forgotten all about that drink and needed to sit down. Just as she turned around, she heard Langston’s voice rise above the crowd. “Aliya,” he said in a loud and firm voice. “Thanks for bumping into me.” He flashed yet another one of his addictive smiles and walked into the building.
Chapter 3- Mariam
Mariam was only a few minutes from the concert, and she couldn’t wait to get out of the car. She couldn’t stand the tension between Malikah and Jaime. For as long as they’d all known each other, she had been the peacemaker between the two of them. She had been the backbone of the whole relationship, and it grew tiring at times. Because of the vital role she played in their friendship, the other girls nicknamed her Mama Mariam. She liked that her friends looked up to her for advice, but sometimes it was more than she could handle. She wondered at times what they would do once she got married and started her own family. She and Rashad were pretty serious and he could propose at any moment.
After they passed the third “Divas All-Star” poster, Malikah started to get suspicious, but when they pulled into the crowded parking lot of the concert hall, her suspicions had been confirmed.
“You got tickets to this concert? They’ve been sold out for weeks! I can’t believe it!” Malikah blurted out. She had been dreaming of going to this concert for months, but had written it off as impossible. The tickets were sold out before she even got a chance to try to buy them. She was excited to actually be there and forgot all about being mad at Jaime. When they got out of the car, she gave both of her friends a huge hug. “Thank you so much,” she screamed.
Mariam didn’t have to call Aliya to see where she was. Her long, curly hair and brightly-colored outfits always made her an easy target. It only took a few minutes for them all to meet up. Together, the four of them looked like an odd bunch, their personalities and personal styles as different as they could possibly be. They didn’t at all look like they would hang out together. Jaime and Aliya looked like polar opposites, one completely covered in beautiful Islamic clothing, the other dressed like a bohemian model in a bright yellow, backless sundress with a huge, golden brown curly afro.
Mariam wasn’t as stunning, but beautiful still. Her style was more “all-American girl.” She often looked professional, like she was going to work, even when she wasn’t trying to. For the concert, she wore a cute pair of denim trousers with a long pink tank top, a light green blazer, a simple pair of pearls, and matching hijab. She looked like the Muslim version of a Tommy Hilfiger model.
Potentially, Malikah was just as beautiful as the others, but she didn’t know it. She was insecure and always wished she looked like someone else. She has trouble seeing how beautiful she was on her own. She wasn’t as tall as Jaime, her hair wasn’t as long as Aliya’s, and her outfits never looked as cute and put together as Mariam’s, but she was beautiful. Rather than focus on her flawless skin and beautiful eyes, she obsessed over her weight, thanks to her mother. She wasn’t fat at all (a solid size 14 and carried it well) but she didn’t like it. Mariam couldn’t understand how unhappy Malikah was with her body. She had curves Mariam would die for.
“Happy Birthday,” Aliya said as she gave Malikah a huge hug. “How have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Mariam loved the way Aliya always seemed so warm and happy to see everyone. After 40 minutes of Malikah and Jaime’s game of the silent treatment, it was all she needed to see a smiling face. Ever since Aliya started working overtime at Starr, they didn’t get to see that much of her anymore. When they were younger, they did everything together, but now that they were getting older, they saw less and less of each other. They hadn’t all been out together in over a month.
Mariam and Malikah went to the same college, but they didn’t see each other that often. Mariam was student body president. She was always planning a bake sale, a car wash, a sit-in, or some kind of forum. She had little time to spend socializing. Jaime was head of the planning committee at the mosque, but she really wasn’t as busy as you would think. The committee was a fairly large one, and rather than take responsibility like most leaders, she merely divvied up all of her work for everyone else to do. Jaime loved being the committee chair. She had no idea most of the committee hated her.
Mariam announced that they should be getting to their seats, so they all started heading in. Because of the large crowd, they held hands to keep from getting separated. As they walked to their seats, Mariam hoped that everything would go well. She didn’t have the energy to diffuse anymore tense situations. When they got to their seats in the 5th row, Malikah almost lost her mind. “I can’t believe we are this close to the stage! How did you get these seats?” she asked with excitement. “I could practically jump on stage and sing backup!”
“Don’t worry about all that. I’ve got connections,” Mariam said nonchalantly. She didn’t tell her she’d won them on the radio.
Mariam liked seeing her friend so happy. After the fish fiasco, she needed something big, and this was it. She looked down the row at her three friends laughing and enjoying each other’s company. She could feel tears welling up as she thought about how this might be the last time she saw them all together for a long time. Though Mariam had known for a few weeks, she still hadn’t found the right time to tell her friends she had been offered and was accepting a job in Chicago. All the hard work she had put into her college career was finally paying off.
Mariam had gone through a rigorous interviewing process for a position as creative director at Meredith Advertising firm. She knew it was a hard job to get, but Mariam had always been the type to reach for the impossible. She had an impressive resume and the GPA to match, so when she heard that out of the 200 original applicants, she was in the top 4, she wasn’t surprised. She was surprised, though, when she received a letter from Meredith Headquarters. It said they were so impressed with her that not only did they want to offer her the position, but that they wanted her to work from the head branch in Chicago. They would provide her transportation and living arrangements. The only thing that would have stopped her was Rashad. They had been discussing marriage a lot lately, and she didn’t know what would happen if she moved to another state.
To her surprise, Rashad was excited about the news. He said he was growing tired of Houston and thought a change of scenery might do them some good. He was the head chef at Starr, the same restaurant where Aliya worked as a bartender. He knew it was a national chain and felt pretty sure they had a location in Chicago. All he had to do was get transferred. After hearing that Rashad was on board, Mariam was sure about her decision. She was moving to Chicago after graduation. She loved Rashad and couldn’t believe they were going to be making a move like this. She just hoped he would propose soon.
Chapter 4- Jaime
By the end of the night, they were all tired and decided to go back to Aliya’s for a nightcap. Though Jaime wouldn’t have admitted it to her parents, she had a great time. They didn’t like her listening to worldly music, so she didn’t bother telling them about the concert. She only hoped they wouldn’t ask what she did once she got home. By the time they got to Aliya’s, it was after midnight. Jaime loved Aliya’s house. Though she was a lot less religious, Jaime never talked to Aliya the way she did Malikah. Part of it was because she knew Aliya wouldn’t hesitate to put her in her place, but a bigger part was that she secretly admired Aliya for being so strong and independent. Aliya never worried about what others thought of her and didn’t spend her life trying to impress people. She was free to be herself.
Though she was the youngest in the group, she was the first to have her own place. It was decorated so nicely that you wouldn’t think a 20-year-old lived there. It looked more like a swanky apartment that belonged to a 30-something fashion designer or maybe an up-and-coming artist. It was full of color and texture. Jaime loved all the art on the walls. Her favorite was her framed black and white picture of Ella Fitzgerald.
Jaime dreamed of having her own place, but her parents wouldn’t hear of it. They wanted her to stay home until she got married. If she was as bold as Aliya, she would have told them she was an adult who could take care of herself. She would have said it would be good for her to step out on her own and start to establish her own life instead of having it dictated to her. She would have told them getting a job and making her own decisions wouldn’t make her a bad Muslim, but she couldn’t say any of that, not to their faces anyway. Sometimes she felt so trapped that she wanted to scream.
While Jaime sat on the couch and imagined what it would be like if Aliya’s apartment where her own, everyone else raided the fridge. “Take anything you want,” Aliya yelled from the bedroom. Mariam and Malikah were already busy feasting on pizza, chips, cookies and ice cream.
“I really shouldn’t be eating this,” Malikah said between bites. “I’m trying to lose 20 pounds, so I can be skinny like yall.”
“For what?” Mariam asked with her hand in the potato chip bag. “You have a cute body. Why are you obsessed with losing weight?”
“Because I’m sick of being fat.”
“You obviously haven’t memorized the house rules,” Aliya said as she came into the kitchen. She had changed into a pair of sweat pants and an oversized tee. Even then, she was beautiful. “In my house, we don’t talk negatively about others or ourselves. We only talk about how fabulous we are and how all the men love us!” Aliya laughed as she grabbed a bottle of water from the table and sat down with her friends. “No, seriously, though,” she said softly as she put her arm around Malikah. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are. You are always comparing yourself to us, but the man you’re going to marry won’t want a woman that looks like us. He’ll want you.”
“And how do you expect to attract a good man if you don’t even like yourself?” Mariam added.
While the other girls talked, Jaime was quite. Finally, someone noticed.
“Why are you so quiet, Jaime?” Mariam asked. It wasn’t normal for her to pass up a chance to talk about herself in front of everyone else.
“Oh, no reason.”
“She’s probably scared her parents will find out she’s been listening to music with us pants-wearing heifers,” Malikah joked. Jaime remained quiet. Malikah knew then something was wrong. The Jaime she knew would never take a shot from her without firing back an acidic response.
“Talk to us, Jay. What’s wrong?” Aliya asked. Jaime looked around at her friends. Then she put her head down and began to cry. They were all shocked. They hadn’t seen Jaime cry since she was 7 and accidently ate a piece of ham.
“Do you ever feel like you’re suffocating? Like you literally can’t breathe? Like you’re standing in a room full of people trying to yell at the top of your lungs, but no sound is coming out?” She paused for a second to catch her breath. “Aliya, look at you. You’re younger than all of us and you’ve done so much for yourself already. And you,” she said, turning to Mariam, “you’re so driven, so dedicated.” Then she turned to Malikah. “Even you, Malikah,” she had to think for a second for something to say about her, “I know you’re in school and have been forever with no real direction and may never even graduate, but you never give up.”
Malikah knew that, from Jaime, that was as close to a compliment as she was going to get. It was odd, because even with the backhanded compliment, she had never felt as close to Jaime as she did at that moment. Even though she wasn’t even sure what she was talking about, she felt she understood. She could see pain in her eyes and recognized it. It was the same pain she felt all the time when she was alone in her room.
“I’m 22 years old, and I haven’t been anywhere or done anything without my parents. Everything I’ve ever had, my father has gotten for me. I haven’t done a thing for myself and I can’t stand it. I had to beg them to let me go to college, and for what? So I could graduate at the top of my class and then sit home and stare at my dusty degree? According to my dad, ‘it’s not proper for a Muslim woman to get a job and work around all those godless men,’” she said, imitating her father’s voice. “I can’t take it anymore. I just look at you all and feel like I’m missing out on so much.”
“Have you tried talking to them?” Mariam asked.
“Until I’m blue in the face. They don’t listen to me,” Jaime answered.
“You’re parents love you and only want the best. I’m sure they don’t realize that you’re so unhappy,” Mariam said softly while rubbing Jaime’s back.
“I’ve seen you around your parents, Jay. Not to be mean, but you have no backbone. You’re like a 3 year old when they’re around,” Aliya said in a far less sympathetic voice. She had always been a no-nonsense, give-it-to-you-straight kind of girl. “You’ve got to stand up for yourself and let them know that they’ve raised a wonderful young woman who can think for herself.”
Jaime looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 3 am. She stood up and started to gather her things. “It’s pretty late, guys. They hate it when I come home late. I’ll call a cab.”
“At this time of night? Girl, you aren’t going anywhere.” Aliya commanded. “You’re staying right here with me. I’ll take you home tomorrow morning.”
“But my parents,” Jaime began to complain.
“Your parents will be just fine. They know you’re with us and that we wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Aliya didn’t even wait to see if Jaime agreed or not. She went in the back room and brought out some extra covers and pillows. Mariam and Malikah were pretty tired too, so they all camped out on the living room floor.
Chapter 5- Aliya
Between the excitement of the concert and Jaime’s parent problems, Aliya had forgotten all about Langston; but that night, she dreamt about him. When she woke up and realized the whole thing was a dream, all she could say was “Damn. Oh well.” She told herself that a guy that perfect had to be married or at least involved with someone. He was probably gay or into that “down low” mess, she told herself. In less than five minutes, she had convinced herself he had to be a crazed bank-robbing rapist, anything to make herself feel better about not getting his number.
The clock on the wall read 10 am. She noticed that Mariam and Malikah were gone. There was a note left on top of a pillow:
Sorry to leave so early. Didn’t want to wake you. Someone called in sick at work. I’m going to cover. I’m taking Malikah home, too. Call you later. Salaam.
“That’s just like Mariam,” Aliya said to herself. “Always ready to help someone. She’d cover someone from her death bed if she could.” She folded up the extra covers, careful not to wake Jaime. Then she went into the kitchen and made some eggs and pancakes. By the time she was done, the wonderful smell had already awakened Jaime. “Morning, Sunshine,” Aliya greeted her.
Jaime was still half asleep. All she managed was a groggy, “Hey.”
“I know you’re dying to call your parents. You can use my phone. By the way, what happened to yours?”
Jaime looked embarrassed. “They took it. My mom was looking at my outgoing calls one day and saw that I had been talking to Joseph.” Jaime couldn’t believe she just told her that. She was planning on telling everyone she had dropped her phone in the toilet, but she was too sleepy to lie.
“Are you serious?” Aliya couldn’t believe her ears. “Oh, girl, I would have gone crazy living in your house. Come eat,” she motioned for Jaime to come sit at the table. “So are you in a rush to go home or do you want to chill a bit?”
“Uh, I’m in no rush. I don’t really have anything to do at home. I don’t have any committee meetings or anything.”
“I have to go work for a few hours. Want to come?”
Jaime had been to Starr before, but Aliya was a bartender, and Jaime didn’t think she should be spending her morning at a bar. Reading the concern on Jaime’s face, Aliya reassured her.
“Don’t worry. It’s not that bad. It’s still early, so no one is ordering drinks yet. Mostly appetizers and sodas. Come on. It’ll be fun. I can get you free food,” she said, trying to convince her friend.
“Well, I guess I could come. Let me just call my parents.” Aliya pointed in the direction of the phone. While Jaime talked to her parents, Aliya took a quick shower and got dressed.
She wore her usual black Starr tank, a pair of fitted jeans. She ran the flatiron through her hair and pulled it back into a neat ponytail. She gave Jaime a fresh pair of jeans and a tank to wear under her abaya.
On the way to work, Aliya told Jaime about Langston. “Girl, you had to see this guy. He was beautiful and polite, not like those immature men that are always trying to grab all over you. He was so respectful.” She paused for a second. “But he sounds too good to be true, doesn’t he?” she said, searching for confirmation. “I’m sure he is married with, like, 8 kids, or gay or something, right?
All Jaime wanted to know was, “Is he Muslim?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Being a Muslim doesn’t make you a good man. I’ve been cheated on by Muslims and Christians alike,” Aliya answered with a slight attitude. She hated when people told her to get a Muslim man. Jaime could sense her annoyance, so she let it go and told her friend what she wanted to hear.
“Yeah, he was probably gay,” Jaime replied.
Aliya was like a celebrity at her job. Everyone there, including the customers, knew her name and seemed happy to see her.
“You can hang out here.” Aliya pulled up a stool for Jaime. “I have to go in the back for a second.” She gave Rashad a quick hugs she walked past. Jaime was shocked. She didn’t like to see men and women touch so freely.
“As salaam alaikum, Jaime,” Rashad said with a big smile. “How have you been?”
Rashad was very attractive. She thought he looked cute in his chef’s hat. He always made her a little nervous when he spoke to her. She felt bad because he was he practically engaged to Mariam.
“Wa alaikum salaam. I’m fine,” she replied. “You don’t mind that she hugs you like that?”
“Who, Aliya?” he asked, pointing behind him toward the kitchen. “You know how she is. She hugs everyone. She’s just one of those huggy types,” he said casually.
“Oh,” Jaime said with a certain snootiness about her.
“I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you later.” Rashad went back into the kitchen. Just as he left, Aliya came back out and went to seat some customers. She dropped a bowl of pretzels in front of Jaime as she passed. Aliya was surprised to see the restaurant so busy at such an early hour. She felt bad leaving Jaime alone at the bar, but she had to work. In about an hour, she sat 15 tables and served 9 of them. The crowd was steady streaming in. She sat down for a second in the back to get a quick break.
“I know you’re not taking a break now,” Rashad said jokingly as he walked by.
“Oh, I know. It’s just so busy out there. Needed a moment to catch my breath. I feel bad. Can you check on Jaime? See if she needs anything?
“Do I have to? That girl has a bad attitude.”
“Please, Rashad. You know she’s not used to being in an environment like this. She’s Mariam’s best friend,” Aliya pleaded.
“You owe me,” he said as he left the kitchen.
After giving herself a one minute pep talk, Aliya found the energy to get back to work. Just as she opened the door, one of her co-workers asked her to cover table 10. “It’s just one guy. He looks pretty easy to please, and he’s cute,” she said with a wink. Aliya walked over toward the table. Because of the dim lighting, she couldn’t see his face yet, but from his silhouette, he looked like he had broad shoulders. When she got closer, she recognized the face. It was Langston.
Chapter 6- Malikah
After Mariam dropped her off, Malikah took a long shower and thought about last night. She struggled to fight back her own tears as she thought about Jaime. Though Jaime had always been the one she liked the least in their friendship, last night she felt like she was Jaime. She could identify with everything she said, everything she felt.
Malikah was in her 4th year at Smithson College, but credit-wise she was only a sophomore. She went to college because that’s what you do when you graduate high school, but she never had a plan or any direction. She figured she’d find her calling after a year or so, but things hadn’t gone as planned. After a long talk with her parents and career counselor, she went ahead and declared Business as her major, but that did nothing to help her decide what she wanted to do. She felt so lost, so pointless. It seemed like every paper she wrote, every class she took, every presentation she ever gave were just tasks on a random list of things she had to do. She never felt like she was working toward anything, and she hated that feeling. She considered, countless times, dropping out, but she didn’t want to hear her mother’s complaints.
Every time she tried to talk to her mother, she told her she wasn’t working hard enough in college, and that she should have met a nice husband by now. “You remember the Khan’s daughter? She found her husband by the end of her freshman year.” Her mother always had to bring up someone who had already found her husband.
“Well, I’m sorry, mama. I’m just not as quick as everyone else. It takes some people time to find a good man.”
“Time is what you don’t have. Those hips are getting wider by the day,” her mother said, patting Malikah on the hip.
Malikah had to laugh to keep from crying. She hated when her mother talked about her like that. Where does she think I got these hips from? she thought. Malikah and her mother’s bodies looked almost identical.
“Even if I never get married, you’ve always got Kalimah,” Malikah said aloud. I’m sure she and the glorious Adam will give you some beautiful, small-hipped babies.”
Kalimah was Malikah’s younger sister. For as far back as Malikah could remember, Kalimah had always been the pretty one, the skinny one, the cool one, and the one all the boys liked. So, it came as no surprise that seven months earlier, at the tender age of 19, she had married Adam, a handsome 28-year-old doctor who had just been featured as one of the city’s most eligible bachelors. Malikah loved her sister, but couldn’t help but envy how perfect her life was. In their mother’s eyes, Kalimah could do no wrong.
“I’m not worried about Kalimah. She’s got her man. I’m worried about you,” her mother yelled as Malikah left the room, trying her best not to react. She went upstairs and called Mariam, who was still at work and had to whisper into the phone.
“Hey, Malikah. Is everything okay?” She could tell from the sound in her friend’s voice that she was angry about something.
“My mother has been giving me the marriage speech again.”
“Oh, no,” Mariam said softly.
“Then she practically told me I’m too fat to get married. And she wonders why I eat all the time. Mariam, I’ve got to find a husband. I think that’s the only thing that will shut my mother up.”
“Just be sure not to make a rushed decision. I don’t want to see you marrying some random man, one of those desperate old men that will marry anything that appears to be female,” Mariam warned. They both laughed, thinking about all the old men they’d seen chasing young women.
“It’s not that bad yet, but it might get there. I just don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you and Jaime get an apartment together? That will solve both of your parent problems,” Mariam said enthusiastically. She was proud of her idea and had forgotten she was at work. She was getting a little too comfortable. “Girl, let me get off this phone before I get fired. I’ll call you when I get off.”
Malikah barely heard Mariam hang up the phone. The last thing she remembered was the part about her and Jaime getting an apartment. Me and Jaime? That would never work. We’d probably end up killing each other. But after last night, she did see Jaime in another light, and they did at least have annoying parents in common. Could it work?
“He-lllo?” Kalimah said as she walked into her sister’s room. “What are you doing? I’ve been knocking on the door for about 5 minutes.” Malikah was surprised to see her sister. Ever since she had gotten married, she didn’t come by the house much.
“Kalimah, what are you doing here? Sorry about the door. I was on the phone. I didn’t hear you.” She gave her sister a big hug. “You look great, as usual.” Sometimes, Malikah couldn’t believe they had come from the same gene pool.
“Thanks. You too,” Kalimah said, giving her sister a once-over. “So, what’s been going on? Sorry I missed your birthday yesterday. Adam had this huge charity banquet to go to. He said it wouldn’t look right for him to show up without his wife. You should’ve seen the dress I wore. It was…” Kalimah cut herself off in mid-sentence. “Look at me talking about myself. I came up here to hear about your birthday.”
Malikah let out a loud sigh. “I didn’t do much,” she said in a drab voice. She paused for a second. “Except go to the Divas All-Stars Concert!” she screamed. “Kalimah, it was great. I was so close I could have been a backup dancer. You should have seen me, girl. I was getting it.” She grabbed her sister’s hand and started dancing around the room.
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Lika.” Hearing that nickname took Malikah back to childhood when Kalimah couldn’t pronounce her name correctly.
“Where is Adam?”
“Adam? He had some work to do. I came over by myself,” Kalimah answered quickly.
“Adam is one hard working man. I haven’t seen him since the wedding. You don’t get lonely with him being at work all the time?” Malikah asked.
“Oh, not really. I’ve made some friends in the neighborhood, and he calls me a lot from work. He’s really a great guy.” For a second, Malikah thought she saw a glimpse of the same pain she had seen in Jaime eyes.
No way. She must just be tired.
“So, what’s married life like?” she asked with a devious smile. “I want to know everything. Start from the beginning and talk slow.” Even though Malikah was oldest, she always felt like the younger one when it came to relationships.
Kalimah laughed. “It’s nice, really nice, but it gets tough sometimes. Just make sure when you get married, you choose the right guy.”
“When I get married,” Malikah repeated flatly. “Right, that’ll happen soon,” she said in a sarcastic voice.
“It might. You never know. When I met Adam, I had no idea we’d be married.”
“Yea, but that’s different. Everyone knew you’d be married, and everyone knows I won’t be.”
Kalimah hated when her sister talked negatively about herself. “What’s stopping you? You’re beautiful and intelligent. You just have the wrong attitude. If you don’t believe you’re a good catch, it’ll be hard for someone else to.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re gorgeous. I don’t look like you.”
“Actually, you do look like me. We have the same eyes, nose and hair. We’re sisters, remember? But even if you didn’t, who cares? You don’t have to look like me to be beautiful. You’re just as cute as I am. All you need is a little makeover.” Kalimah stood up and walked over near the full-length mirror. “Come stand here,” she said, pointing to the ground in front of the mirror.
“For what?” Malikah pouted. She hated looking in the mirror.
“Just be quiet and come,” Kalimah demanded. Malikah got up sluggishly and walked over to her sister. Kalimah stood behind her and put her hands on her shoulders. “Stand up straight. Roll your shoulders back. Look like you have some confidence. See, that looks so much better,” she said after Malikah stopped slouching. “You have to learn how to dress for your body. This shirt is too big. It makes you look sloppy.” Kalimah grabbed the extra fabric on her sister’s shirt and gathered it in the back, making the shirt look a lot more fitted. “Now, see how much better that looks?” she said with a smile. Malikah had always hated her body, but there in the mirror, it didn’t look so bad. “Now these pants, on the other hand, are too small,” she said looking down. “Unless you’re wearing some type of cropped pant, they should never stop above your ankles. And, contrary to popular belief, a looser fit would actually make you look leaner.”
Malikah was surprised at how much her sister knew about fashion. She felt like she was on one of those makeover shows. “How do you know all this?” she asked.
“You know I’ve always loved clothes; and since I got married, I’ve been watching a lot of TV, mostly fashion and makeover shows. And Adam spoils me. I shop a lot.”
“I wish,” Malikah said.
“You don’t have to. Let’s go shopping now! I’ll give you a real makeover, with clothes, makeup, shoes, hair, everything!”
“That all sounds nice, but I don’t have money for any of that.”
“It’s fine. I’ll pay for it,” she said, fumbling through her purse and pulling out a credit card. “Well, Adam will pay for it,” she corrected herself.
Malikah didn’t know what to say. She had never had a makeover before. “Well, in that case, let’s go.” She had actually starting to get excited, but it soon faded once they got to the mall. Seeing all the skinny girls trying on the skinny-girl clothes made her feel really self-conscious. She was scared to try anything on, because she knew it wouldn’t fit, as usual. Then would come the standard flood of depression and triple chocolate ice cream.
“Oooh, this would go great with your skin,” Kalimah said, holding a purple blouse up against her sister.
“I don’t wear purple. It makes me look like Barney.”
Kalimah chuckled. “You wouldn’t look like Barney, but we can try another color. How about this black, silk tank? It says ‘sophisticated, but still ready to party.’ Ooh, and then you could pair it with these pants,” she said grabbing a pair of jeans from the next rack. “And those heels,” she said, running down the aisle toward a pair of red pumps. By the time Kalimah had the entire outfit, she was out of breath. “Well, what do you think?”
Malikah didn’t hear a word her sister said. She was too busy staring at Muhammad from across the room. Kalimah noticed that her sister was paying no attention and soon figured out why.
“Is that Muhammad over there?” she asked. “I haven’t seen him in so long. He looks really nice.”
“Yea, he does,” Malikah said, finally coming out of her trance.
“Don’t tell me you still like him? It’s been about 5 years,” Kalimah said in disbelief. Malikah didn’t respond. “So, let’s go talk to him,” Kalimah said, reading her sister’s silence. She grabbed Malikah’s hand and pulled her toward Muhammad.
“No, no, no!” Malikah yanked her hand away. “I’m not going over there so I can make a fool of myself.”
“Come on. It won’t be that bad. I’ll go with you. I’ll talk first. You come in when you feel comfortable, okay?” Malikah didn’t respond, but she didn’t fight when her sister grabbed her hand again, either. “Muhammad, is that you?” Kalimah said as they got closer.
He looked surprised to hear someone yelling his name, but when he recognized their faces, he smiled warmly.
“Kalimah and Malikah, how are you guys? It’s so nice to see you.”
“You too. What are you doing in the mall? I thought guys didn’t like shopping,” Kalimah said.
“Oh, we don’t,” he reassured her. “I’m just picking up some new basketball shoes.”
“Oh my god, is that entire rack half off?” Kalimah asked herself aloud. “Excuse me, guys. I think I see a dress with my name on it.” She winked at Malikah before she walked over toward one of the racks they had already looked at. Malikah knew what her sister was doing, and she didn’t like it. With Kalimah gone, she and Muhammad were left alone. She couldn’t sink into the background anymore. She had to say something.
“Basketball shoes, huh? I remember you being really good.”
“I’m alright. It keeps me active. It’s either that or hit the gym, and I’m not really into weights.”
You could have fooled me with that body, she thought. But all she said was, “That’s cool.” She was really nervous. She couldn’t wait until Kalimah came back. Before she could think of something else to say, a tall, modelesque woman in a beautiful sparkly hijab walked up and put her arm around Muhammad.
“You find your shoes, honey?” the mystery woman asked.
“Not yet, but I see you found a few things,” he said, looking at the overflowing bags she was carrying.
“I couldn’t help it, baby. They had a big sale and everything looked so cute on me.” She spoke in an annoying, whiny voice. Malikah thought she sounded like a little kid pleading with her father.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Malikah. This is Ameerah, my wife.” His last words echoed in her mind like he had spoken them in an empty, carpetless room. Malikah felt her heart drop to the floor. His wife? Why hadn’t anyone told her he was married? She tried to hide her shock and greeted his wife like she were actually happy to meet her. Then she slid her hand in her pocket and secretly made her cell phone ring.
She jumped, as if the ring scared her.
“That must be Kalimah. She probably needs my opinion on something. You know how she is, so indecisive. Well, gotta go.” She walked away as fast as she could, fighting the urge to run.
“Why are you out of breath?” Kalimah asked from behind a pile of clothes she had collected in the short period of time. “And why do you look like that? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Let’s go,” Malikah said angrily.
“Okay, let me just try these pants on and then I can…” Malikah didn’t even let her sister finish.
“Now!” she said firmly as she walked toward the exit. Kalimah put all her clothes down and followed her sister. Neither of them said anything the entire ride home. Kalimah wanted to talk to Malikah, but the look on her face warned her not to. Once they got back to the house, she followed Malikah up to her room. They sat in silence until Kalimah couldn’t take it anymore. It only took about a minute.
“So are you going to tell me what happened?” Kalimah blurted out.
Malikah didn’t answer for a few seconds. “He’s married,” she finally said.
“Married? Muhammad? When? To who?” Kalimah looked just as surprised as Malikah was.
“I don’t know. Some spoiled, skinny girl.”
Kalimah could see how sad her sister was and tried to comfort her. “Oh, well he wasn’t that cute anyway, and it looked like his hairline was receding,” she lied.
“He was that cute, and his hairline looked great. Everything about him looked great, including his Barbie wife,” Malikah said in a depressed voice. Ever since Muhammad transferred to her high school years ago, she had had a crush on him. From his first day of class, he was popular. Partly because he was so handsome and athletic, but mostly because he had such a great personality. He was so laid back and nice, not at all arrogant like the other popular kids. It was like he didn’t even know he was cool. She had always known that a guy like him was way out of her league, but that didn’t stop her from dreaming. Finding out he was married crushed her dream. She couldn’t stand to talk or think about it anymore. She changed the subject. “It’s getting pretty late. What time is Adam expecting you home?”
“I’m staying the night,” Kalimah responded quickly. “Can I sleep in your room?”
“You’re a newlywed. What are you doing trying to sleep with me?”
“No reason. I just miss my family. So, can I sleep here?” She sounded slightly irritated.
“Sure, if you want, but you know your room is still open. Dad never turned it into an office like he said he would.”
“I know. I just want to sleep with you, unless that’s a problem.”
“Not a problem at all. Strange, but not a problem.”
Chapter 7- Mariam
Time passed by quickly, and Mariam still hadn’t told her friends about her move. She knew the closer she got to the date, the harder it would be to tell them. She wanted to get it over with, but she was scared. How would they react? What would they do without her? What would she do without them? Even though she was the designated mother of the group, they did as much for her as she did for them. In different ways, they all helped each other out, either with advice, a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to talk to. She never thought she’d see the day when she moved away from her girls.
Mariam opened her curtains to let the sun in. She was a morning person. She loved getting up to go jogging early, before the sun got too hot and the streets got too busy. She checked the time. It was almost 8 o’clock. She jumped in the shower and got dressed. She was meeting Rashad for breakfast. Over the past few weeks, they had both been busy and hadn’t spent much time together, so she was really looking forward to having breakfast with him. As she stood in front of her closet, looking for something to wear, she heard her phone ring. It was a text message from Rashad: Can’t make breakfast, honey. Working the morning shift. Call you around 1 o’clock.
“Since when has he ever worked the morning shift?” she asked herself as she flopped on the bed. Even though Rashad sounded excited about the move, he had been acting weird ever since she told him. Maybe he didn’t want to go. Maybe he just said he did to be nice. Maybe he didn’t want to get married, or maybe he just didn’t want to marry her. Mariam’s mind was racing with thoughts about Rashad and his recent behavior. She could feel herself starting to get a headache, so she tried to think about something else.