His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  “Are you happy?” Salima asked, still smiling.

  At the thought of Jacob actually being her husband, Aliyah was overcome with so much joy that she couldn’t find the words for it. It was still difficult to believe that it was really happening. “Yes,” she said, unable to keep from grinning herself.

  “Come on,” Salima said, grabbing Aliyah’s hand and pulling her where the sisters were moving to the rhythm of the drum. “Let’s dance.”

  Aliyah felt a tinge of apprehension as Salima danced in front of her, holding one of Aliyah’s hands at the same time. It had been a long time since Aliyah danced in front of people. Usually, her dancing was confined to the privacy of her home when she was exercising alone. Even when Reem had accompanied her during workout routines, Aliyah had merely followed the DVD program. It was difficult to fight the anxiety she’d battled for years in relaxed social settings. She always felt safer in structured environments or when she knew exactly what she was expected to do or say.

  “Jamil asked me the oddest question the other day,” Salima said later that evening when most of the sisters had gone home. She sat next to Aliyah, who was at the dining room table finishing the last bit of baklava, mentally preparing to leave herself. It had taken every bit of willpower to have stayed as long as she did. Aliyah had been looking forward to spending time with Jacob though neither he nor she had made any definite plans. Since their children now knew of their marriage, it would no longer be inappropriate for them to visit each other at home, though of course they still planned to interact primarily on the phone until they were ready to live together.

  “What’s that?” Aliyah said without looking up as she lifted the half-eaten diamond shaped baklava to her mouth. She discreetly glanced at her wristwatch as she chewed and lifted a cloth napkin to wipe the flaky crust from the tips of her fingers.

  “He asked what I thought of Larry.” The laughter in Salima’s voice made Aliyah sense that Jamil’s inquiry had made Salima both uncomfortable and confused.

  Aliyah creased her forehead and met Salima’s gaze, a question in her eyes as a smirk formed at her lips. “You mean…?”

  “Girl, I know.” Salima grinned in disbelief, breaking eye contact with Aliyah to smooth out the wrinkles on the tablecloth with the flat of her palms. “I was like, ‘Boy, are you crazy? I’m old enough to be his mother.’”

  The brief silence that followed was filled with the chatter of the remaining few sisters who were in the living room engrossed in a conversation of their own. In that moment, Aliyah knew that Salima was gauging Aliyah’s approval more than she was asking her advice.

  “His mother?” Aliyah said, still smirking, eyebrows raised.

  “Well his older sister, at least,” Salima said in playful defensiveness. “I have gray coming in.”

  “I do too,” Aliyah said matter-of-factly. She shrugged. “But what difference does it make? Apparently, Larry doesn’t care.”

  “How could he?” Salima coughed laughter. “He’s never seen my hair.”

  “I don’t think he cares,” Aliyah said sincerely. “What he sees in you isn’t superficial.”

  Salima’s gaze became distant, and she frowned thoughtfully as she ran her palms over the tablecloth again though it was already flattened and free of wrinkles. “I wanted to be with Mikaeel in Jannah,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  Aliyah immediately knew that Mikaeel had been Salima’s husband. At the mention of him, Aliyah didn’t know what to say. Before that moment, he’d only been a concept, a symbol of Salima’s pain. But hearing his name made it feel as if he had left the room only hours before.

  Aliyah was silent, unsure what to say. There was nothing she could think of that could make it better for Salima, but she felt she should at least try. “Maybe you still can be with him in Paradise,” Aliyah offered.

  Salima sighed. “I’ve considered that,” she said tentatively. “Over the years, I mean. And at first, it really mattered to me, you know, that I could be with Mikaeel, even if I married again.” She shrugged dejectedly. “But what scares me now is, I’m not sure I care so much anymore.”

  ***

  “I’m sorry I’m running late,” Aliyah said as she drove to Jacob’s home to pick up Ibrahim after leaving Salima’s.

  “It’s no problem,” Jacob’s voice said through the earpiece. “Just use the key. I’m in my office doing some work. The boys are in the playroom.”

  A tinge of guilt pinched Aliyah as she was reminded of the house key that Jacob had given her a couple of weeks ago. “For emergencies,” he’d explained. She felt uncomfortable accepting a key to Jacob’s home when she hadn’t given him one to hers. “Ibrahim has my extra key,” she’d told Jacob apologetically. “So if you ever need it…” Her voice had trailed awkwardly. Jacob had chuckled. “It’s okay,” he’d told her. “I just wanted you to have mine in case you ever need it for anything.”

  As Aliyah turned her car into the driveway of Jacob’s home, a sense of sadness weighed on her as she thought of Deanna. It was a distant feeling, resignation mingled with grief. But there was no lingering shame for arriving at the home as Jacob’s wife. She didn’t even have the anxiety she’d had when she came to the house to pick up Ibrahim from Larry. Aliyah still felt bad for what had happened in her friendship with Deanna, but not for marrying Jacob.

  These new feelings surprised Aliyah, but pleasantly. A faint, hesitant smile formed at her lips, a small but not insignificant reflection of the pride she felt in herself for her emotional growth. For perhaps the first time in her life, Aliyah was living out what was best for her, regardless of what others thought, and she didn’t feel guilty about it.

  A twinge of gloating pride surged at the thought of Deanna one day finding out that Aliyah was married to Jacob. For years, Deanna had plotted in tireless cruelty to ensure that her best friend would be denied the opportunity to marry a good man or have a good reputation. But Allah had turned everything around—in a way that only He could do.

  But the feeling of gloating pride passed just as quickly as it had come and was replaced with heart-wrenching fear. If Deanna was capable of sinking to such spiritual lows, then anyone was—even Aliyah herself. Deanna was no more or less a flawed human being than anyone else. So what was it that had catapulted Deanna into emotional and spiritual self-destruction?

  The depths of hasad that must have been eating at Deanna day in and day out, Aliyah couldn’t fathom. But, as it was with all sins of wrongdoing, the destructive envy that Deanna had allowed to overtake her had ultimately not harmed Aliyah at all. Deanna harmed only herself—and with her own hands.

  Whoever uses his heart as a weapon destroys himself first, Aliyah had read somewhere. And how true it was.

  The car idled in the driveway of Jacob’s home as Aliyah took a moment to gather her composure in the face of these terrifying thoughts. Was she really that different from Deanna if she allowed herself to feel triumphant at the thought of Deanna learning about her marriage to Jacob? Aliyah wanted so badly to never give in to negativity and pride, but it was difficult. She wanted so badly to be forgiving of any wrongs she suffered, but was that realistic? Or praiseworthy even? Did she really have to “turn the other cheek” whenever someone transgressed against her? Did she really have to smile and always be patient through every wrongdoing she suffered?

  Aliyah sighed. Probably not, she concluded in resignation of the complexity of life. But with Deanna, Aliyah was at least determined to try, if for no other reason than Deanna would always be Younus and Thawab’s mother.

  But still, Aliyah thought as she turned off the ignition, the reminder of Deanna’s cruelty hurt—viscerally. That someone whom Aliyah had considered her best friend would betray her on that level, and consistently, she doubted she would ever understand. There would probably always be moments that Aliyah would grow angry with Deanna. And that’s okay, Aliyah told herself. Some things were just naturally enraging no matter how much time had passed and no matter how much
you strived to forgive.

  Recently, Aliyah found herself engaging in mental confrontations with Deanna more and more. How dare you, she’d say to Deanna in her head. How dare you.

  The old Aliyah would have berated herself for these thoughts, but Aliyah was learning to allow herself the emotional release. Of course, she still believed in the Islamic injunction to make excuses for her Muslim sister, but she now understood that there was a vast difference between negative thoughts based on pure suspicion and negative thoughts based on confirmed truth. The former necessitated not only a litany of excuses, but also withholding oneself from a negative reaction. Because, ultimately, in the case of suspicion, you didn’t even know what had really happened in the first place. Allah does not like the public mention of evil, the Qur’an said, except by one who has been wronged. How much more, then, was Aliyah’s right to what she expressed privately, with only her hurting heart as a witness?

  Aliyah reached next to her and pressed the button to unlock her seat belt, overcome with paralyzing sadness at the realization that there was no way to escape the emotional pain incited by Deanna’s calculated and sustained betrayal.

  Revenge is almost never good, Aliyah had penned in the journal she had recently started keeping. But payback is nice. Mainly because it comes with no effort on your part, just God doing His work. And you can sit back and smile, saying, “That felt good.” Allah is indeed the Best Teacher.

  At the reminder, Aliyah’s spirits lifted slightly, and a reassuring smile creased one side of her mouth. Everything is going to be okay, insha’Allah, she told herself. Because it made no sense to believe anything else.

  ***

  “As-salaamu’alaikum,” Aliyah called out as she cautiously stepped into the foyer of Jacob’s home, softly closing the door behind her. The house was quiet as she dropped her keys back into her purse and turned the bolt lock.

  “Wa’alaiku-mus-salaam,” a voice responded as she slipped off her shoes.

  Aliyah turned to find Younus standing about ten feet from her. Cradled in both his hands was a large glass bowl of freshly rinsed grapes. The red and green clusters glistened under the dim living room light, dangling over the sides of the bowl. Apparently, he had come to the kitchen for a snack when he’d heard her let herself in.

  “My dad’s upstairs in his office,” Younus said, nodding his head toward the stairs. His voice was flat and matter-of-fact, betraying no emotion. Aliyah didn’t know whether or not this was a good sign. “I can let him know you’re here.”

  “That’s okay,” Aliyah said, perhaps too quickly. “I can go up and find him.”

  Younus pursed his lips and nodded, and Aliyah wondered if her response had come off as cavalier.

  “Are you going to live here now?”

  The question was so unexpected that Aliyah pulled her head back in surprise. “No, of course not,” she said, an edge of defensive humor in her tone.

  “Why not?” Younus asked, the same emotionless expression on his face. Aliyah wished she could tell what he was thinking. She didn’t know if he was interrogating her or showing genuine curiosity given their new circumstances.

  “This isn’t my house,” she said simply, hoping the answer sufficed. She offered Younus a close-lipped smile and started walking toward the stairs.

  “But you’re our stepmother now.”

  Internally, Aliyah cringed at the term stepmother as she halted her steps and met Younus’s gaze. “That, I am,” she said, maintaining a cordial expression.

  “Then why did you say this isn’t your house?” Younus squinted his eyes, his expression conveying genuine confusion. Aliyah thought she detected a tinge of hurt in his inquiry, and she felt bad for not knowing the right thing to say.

  “I don’t know,” Aliyah said after an awkward silence, exhaling the words. It was at that moment that she remembered Jacob saying that Younus is more interested in full disclosure than in passing judgment.

  She lifted a shoulder in a shrug as an embarrassed grin creased one side of her mouth. “I guess I’m still getting used to this stepmother thing.”

  Younus nodded, the shadow of a smile forming at his own lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

  Upstairs, Aliyah tapped the back of her knuckles on Jacob’s office door. Though she rarely had come upstairs whenever she’d visited Deanna, the times that she did, Deanna had pointed out Jacob’s office so that Aliyah would not accidentally enter it. It felt odd actually standing outside his home office—as his wife. The irony made her chuckle.

  “Come in,” Aliyah heard Jacob call out. “It’s open.”

  Aliyah turned the handle and pushed open the door. When she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, a smile spread on Jacob’s face as he got to his feet. Within seconds, he was in front of her and pulling her into an embrace. Her breath caught as she felt the firmness of his chest and the strength of his arms around her. She inhaled the sweet scent of musk as she nuzzled against him and locked her arms around his torso.

  “I miss you,” his deep voice rumbled above her head, weakening Aliyah’s resolve.

  “I miss you too,” Aliyah whispered, surprised that her voice was steady given the thumping in her chest. She could stay like this forever, she thought to herself, slowly closing her eyes to drink in the moment. Right then she wished she hadn’t made the condition that they wait so long before they lived together. Though she’d never stated it outright, she knew that the implication of the wait time also included delaying consummation of the marriage. She wondered if there was a way to implicitly revoke that implication.

  Jacob pulled his head back then lowered his face to Aliyah’s until their lips met. He kissed her softly, and Aliyah felt as if her head were spinning for how weak she felt right then. She had no idea if it was the combination of all the tormenting back and forth before their marriage and the now extended wait time before they could be together, but the emotional connection that she felt with Jacob right then was overpowering. She doubted she had the resolve to even go home that night.

  When Jacob pulled away from her and walked back to his desk, Aliyah needed a moment to gather herself. Breathe in, breath out, she mentally coached herself. It took several seconds before her breathing was steady enough to allow her to speak.

  “What are you working on?” Aliyah said casually as Jacob settled into his office chair and pulled it close to his desk. But she detected a slight quiver in her speech, as if her voice needed a moment more to recover. She walked over to where Jacob sat and stood at an angle opposite him so she couldn’t see the monitor.

  “Take a look,” Jacob said, gesturing a hand in front of him. He leaned back as Aliyah stepped next to his chair and looked at the screen.

  “Is this some sort of grant proposal for the college?” she asked skimming the document.

  Jacob grunted laughter. “The college? I think I’ve given them enough of my creative ideas,” he said. “This is something I’m working on for myself.”

  “Really?” Aliyah leaned into the screen and read more closely.

  “You’re applying for a grant?” she asked about a minute later, standing up straight and looking at Jacob.

  “I hope to eventually,” Jacob said, exhaling his words. “But this paperwork is for my non-profit status.” He paused as he looked at the screen.

  “What do you think?” he asked, his tone suggesting he wanted Aliyah’s honest input.

  Aliyah frowned thoughtfully and glanced at the document on the monitor. “I don’t know much about non-profits,” she said apologetically, reminded of the non-profit foundations her parents had founded. But she had been too young to know about the required formalities. “So I don’t think I can be much help.”

  “I meant the idea,” Jacob said, “not the proposal format.”

  “Oh…” Aliyah raised her eyebrows and looked at the monitor again. “Is it to help needy children?”

  Jacob nodded thoughtfully. “That’s one way to look at it,” he said. “But
more like needy adults.”

  “That’s really good mashaAllah,” Aliyah said. “If it works out, I mean.”

  “It’s focused on emotional trauma though,” he said self-consciously, his gaze fixed on the screen. “So I’m not really sure how to put it in words for the proposal.” He looked at Aliyah, uncertainty in his eyes. “Maybe if I had a name for it?”

  “Emotional trauma?” Aliyah furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

  An extended silence followed, and Aliyah wondered if she’d asked the wrong question. Jacob’s gaze grew distant as he seemed lost in a disturbing memory.

  “What inspired you to start the project?” Aliyah asked curiously, hoping to shift his thoughts. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  Jacob frowned thoughtfully. “It’s fine,” he said. But Aliyah thought she detected a self-conscious hesitation in his voice. “It’s just hard to explain because I’m not sure exactly…”

  Aliyah glanced around the room, and when she spotted a chair, she walked over to it and dragged it to Jacob’s desk. She locked her gaze with Jacob’s as she sat down facing him at an angle. She leaned forward, her expression letting him know she was listening.

  Jacob shrugged as he averted his gaze. “But I guess the short answer is you.”

  Aliyah drew her eyebrows together in confusion. “Me?”

  Jacob coughed laughter in an apparent effort to offset the vulnerability he’d exposed. “You made me realize there’s more to hope for in this life than just something better after death.”

  Chapter 24

  Troubled Waters

  Benjamin opened the door to his home early Saturday afternoon, and Aliyah heaved a sigh of relief when she stepped inside and saw both Jacob and Larry sitting on the couch in the living room. She had seen Jacob’s car in the driveway and had begun to feel anxious about her husband being Benjamin’s only male company. She didn’t want her mother to suspect anything about her and Jacob’s relationship. Naomi was visiting her sister Valerie, so whomever Benjamin entertained wouldn’t be Naomi’s concern. But Aliyah wanted to be careful. She had no idea what her mother was up to, showing up suddenly after more than ten years of refusing to even answer any phone calls or respond to a postcard.