His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  “Oh…”

  “This just…” Salima heard Aliyah take several breaths after the utterance. “I don’t know what to…” More breathing. “Can you…”

  “QaddarAllaahu maashaa’a fa’al,” Salima said, careful to speak as gently as possible in response to Aliyah’s anxiety. “This was already written for you, ukhti. So Allah has a better plan.”

  Salima paused as a thought came to her suddenly. “Are you inside or outside?”

  “Out-side,” Aliyah said with a jagged breath.

  “And where is Jacob?”

  “He…went in-side.”

  “Then go to your car and sit down for a moment okay?”

  “O-kay…”

  “Recite isti’aadhah and the du’aa for when you’re facing a difficult situation,” Salima said. “You know it, right?”

  “Ye-es.”

  “Start saying it now.”

  She heard Aliyah muttering the supplications over and over again, and she silently supplicated to Allah herself for Aliyah.

  “There’s nothing Deanna can say or do that Allah hasn’t already written for you,” Salima said when she heard the car door slam and Aliyah’s voice steady with her prayerful utterances.

  “Jazaakillaahukhairan,” Aliyah said, her breathing returning to normal. “You’re right.” She drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “I just need a few minutes to gather myself.”

  “No problem,” Salima said. “And I’ll stay right here with you until you feel better, insha’Allah.”

  “I’m sorry,” Aliyah said, embarrassed humor in her tone. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your parents. I know they have more rights.”

  “They’ll be fine, insha’Allah,” Salima said, and it was then that she registered how relieved she was to hear a familiar voice. In just the few minutes she’d been on the phone with Aliyah, she was already feeling guilty for her negative view of Larry. In the presence of her parents, the new perspective had felt like wisdom, but now it felt like betrayal. Yet still, even then, Salima wasn’t able to convince herself that her parents were entirely wrong in the advice they’d given her about Larry.

  “Then I won’t hold you long,” Aliyah said apologetically. “But can you recite Qur’an really quick? I think that’ll help calm me down more.”

  A grin formed on Salima’s face. “You can recite yourself, you know,” she teased.

  Aliyah laughed self-consciously. “I know. I just…”

  “It’s okay,” Salima interjected good-naturedly. “I need to hear another reciter myself sometimes, especially when I’m stressed.”

  “I like your recitation, mashaAllah.”

  “MashaAllah,” Salima muttered humbly, stepping out of the bathroom so she was standing in the hall. “Any specific requests?”

  “The last part of Sooratul-Hashr,” Aliyah said, gratefulness in her voice. “Starting from ‘yaa ayyuhalladheena aamanoo.’ ”

  Salima smiled to herself at this touching moment, one friend comforting the other with the highest source of comfort, the Words of the Creator. “A’oodhu billaahi minash-Shaytaanir-rajeem…” she began, raising her voice confidently as she was taught to do during her studies, then recited what meant:

  O you who believe, fear God (Allah). And let every soul look to what it has put forth for tomorrow—and fear Allah. Indeed, Allah is Acquainted with what you do. And be not like those who forgot Allah, so He made them forget themselves. Those are the defiantly disobedient.

  Not equal are the companions of the Fire and the companions of Paradise. The companions of Paradise—they are the attainers [of success].

  If We had sent down this Qur’an upon a mountain, you would have seen it humbled and coming apart from fear of Allah. And these examples We present to the people that perhaps they will give thought.

  He is Allah, other than whom none has the right to be worshipped, Knower of the unseen and the seen. He is the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful. He is Allah—there is no god but He—the Sovereign, the Pure, the Perfection, the Bestower of Faith, the Overseer, the Exalted in Might, the Compeller, the Superior. Exalted is Allah above whatever they associate with Him. He is Allah, the Creator, the Inventor, the Fashioner; to Him belong the most beautiful names. Whatever is in the heavens and earth is glorifying Him. And He is the Exalted in Might, the Wise.

  ***

  Aliyah breathed a sigh of relief when her uncle opened the front door and she found Deanna in rukoo’, bowing in prayer, facing a corner of the room.

  You didn’t start yet? Aliyah mouthed to Jacob, who was sitting on the couch and had turned when she came in. Jacob shook his head and gestured to Deanna, indicating she had been praying since he’d come inside. A smile creased the corners of Aliyah’s mouth. If she hadn’t feared that Deanna might see her in the corner of her eye and misinterpret the action, Aliyah would have made sajdah al-shukr, the prostration for gratefulness, right then. Whatever would happen at this meeting, starting it with prayer was definitely a good sign.

  ***

  “What was that about?” Salima’s father said, lighthearted teasing in his voice as she returned to her seat at the table. Salima could tell that hearing her recite Qur’an during the phone call was the most unexpected surprise, but she detected fatherly pride in his voice. Her mother’s expression conveyed equal pride, her eyes compassionate and pleased as she watched Salima settle back into her seat. Salima sensed that they had been upset about her abruptly leaving the table but that hearing her recitation erased from their hearts any offense.

  “That was Larry’s sister-in-law,” Salima said. She thought nothing of it when she said it because it was merely a matter of fact. But a moment later, she realized how significant the information was in light of the conversation they’d just had. “She was nervous about a meeting she had to attend and wanted to hear Qur’an to calm her.”

  Eyebrows rising in surprise, they exchanged glances that seemed to say, Well, who would’ve guessed?

  “His whole family is fond of Qur’an actually,” she added.

  A few seconds passed in silence.

  “But…” her mother said, eyes narrowed. “…I thought he converted.”

  “He did,” she said. “But his older brother has been Muslim for about fifteen years now, I think. And Larry spent a lot of that time learning Islam from him. And his brother is married to one of my best friends, who I was just talking to now.”

  They nodded thoughtfully. “And you say Larry is fond of Qur’an too?” her father asked.

  “Definitely,” Salima said. “That’s what we have in common. But his focus is more so on the meaning as opposed to only memorization.”

  “Well, memorization is important…” her father said.

  “That’s why he started memorizing,” she said. “He’s taking classes at the masjid, and if he has any questions, he asks me. Sometimes I listen to his recitation, and I correct him.” She smiled to herself at the thought, her heart feeling renewed appreciation and admiration for him.

  “Well…” her father said, as if feeling obligated to balance out their views from earlier, “that’s not something common amongst the more zealous converts.”

  Her mother nodded. “That’s true… The extreme ones don’t spend a lot of time studying Quran.”

  Salima’s spirits lifted in hopes that they were changing their mind about Larry. But then she saw her mother frown.

  “But I still don’t think he’s good enough for you,” her mother said.

  “I agree,” her father said, as if he’d given this a lot of thought. “It’s good that he’s studying Qur’an, but it’ll take years before he’s qualified to marry someone like you.”

  ***

  Deanna heard Aliyah’s voice responding to Benjamin’s salaams, and she stiffened in annoyance as she sat for the last part of prayer. But she willed herself to concentrate on her Creator, wanting to stay focused on why she’d come, and what had inspired her prayers.

  That morning, Deanna had prayed S
alaah for only the second time since the congregational prayer in jail, and she was surprised by the calming effect it had. Yes, there were moments that she was racked with so much guilt that she was tempted to abandon prayer right then, but then tranquility settled over her and made her throat close and her eyes fill. It was then that she realized that she missed this, the feeling that she had a higher purpose in life. She missed feeling the certainty that there was a God and that He would take care of her, as long as she took care of herself. It was why she’d become Muslim in the first place.

  Visiting her brother Asher had left her feeling filthy, alone, and abandoned. Returning to the emotionally cold atmosphere of her parents’ home only made her loneliness more suffocating and pronounced.

  I can’t live like this anymore, she’d said to herself. She was anguished and disgusted at that tiny voice telling her that Asher was just a godless version of herself—or at least someone she was on the fast road to becoming. And she feared that his summation of the Michaels was more accurate than the fairytale version she’d created of her family in her head.

  All people are naturally self-centered and think of themselves as fundamentally good, the self-help book had said. They readily recognize evil in the world around them, but almost never as readily recognize it within their own worlds or within themselves. Even those of us who are honest about our evil usually do so from a point of self-compassion, contextual justification, or stubborn self-defense. It is almost unheard of for someone to stand up and angrily condemn themselves. That’s why self-honesty about one’s evil is usually discussed in the context of a confession or a contrite apology, but almost never condemnation. This self-centered view extends to our families and loved ones as well. No evil committed by our own hands or by those we love feels as horrific as that committed by others or by other people’s friends and family. For most of us, true evil is and will always be somewhere “out there.”

  Deanna was reluctant to turn her head to the right and utter the tasleem to end the prayer. The reason that she was praying at all, even though Dhuhr had not yet come in, was because she didn’t want to be left to her own devices in starting over with Jacob. She’d come over an hour early so that she could spend it in prayer. Benjamin and Valerie had seemed a bit surprised to see her before the scheduled meeting, but they were gracious in welcoming her and pointing her in the direction of the qiblah so she could pray as many units of Duhaa that she desired.

  But now Jacob had arrived (she heard him give Benjamin salaams earlier) and Aliyah too, though Deanna wasn’t completely sure why her former best friend would choose today of all days to visit her uncle. Whatever, Deanna thought to herself, turning her head to the right then the left, ending the prayer. Be the bigger person, she said to herself. You are walking with the Lord.

  ***

  Jacob felt a twinge of pity as he watched Deanna complete her voluntary prayer then walk over to where he was sitting and give him salaams. Her burnt red khimaar sat loosely on her head, making his stomach convulse at the reminder of the day they’d first met.

  She offered him a wide smile and sat down a few feet from him on the couch, a pungent scent of perfume wafting in his direction with that motion. It was the same scent she’d worn the night she’d invited him to her apartment under the guise of a double date. He instinctively glanced around for Aliyah, but he did not see her. He heard the hushed banter of women coming from the kitchen and realized that she was visiting with Valerie. Benjamin sat across from Jacob and Deanna, offering Jacob a subtle but reassuring smile.

  “Bismillaahir-rahmaanir-raheem,” Benjamin said, his firm authoritative voice relieving Jacob of the pressure of starting the meeting himself. “Because you haven’t yet agreed on a co-parenting counselor,” Benjamin said, “I’m going to be your mediator today in hopes of you both coming to an agreement on how to work together for the sake of your children.”

  Deanna started to say something, but Benjamin raised a hand to stop her. “I know each of you have other matters you want to discuss,” he continued. “And since those things will most likely affect your approaches to co-parenting, I’ll let you share those before we move on to making arrangements for caring for your children.”

  Benjamin nodded and gestured toward Deanna. “We can start with you, Sister Deanna,” he said.

  When Deanna lifted her head haughtily and looked directly at Jacob, Jacob knew the meeting wasn’t going to go as smoothly as he’d hoped.

  “You married Aliyah, didn’t you?” Bitterness was in her tone, her eyes narrowed in accusation.

  Jacob instinctively glanced at Benjamin, unsure how to handle this sudden, unexpected slap in the face. Benjamin’s expression revealed neither approval nor disapproval, and Jacob took that as a sign that he was permitted to speak.

  “Yes,” he said more firmly than he intended, detecting an edge of defense in his tone. The hushed silence in the kitchen let Jacob know that Aliyah and her aunt were hanging on to every word. “After our divorce, I asked her to marry me.”

  “After our real divorce?” Deanna’s upper lip was upturned in a sneer. “Because that was fast.”

  “Yes, after our real divorce,” Jacob said, “the one recognized by Allah.”

  Deanna tossed up her hands as if disgusted and losing patience. “You were wrong for that,” she said. “But I want you to know that I forgive you. This doesn’t have to ruin anything between us.”

  Aliyah appeared in the doorway, arms folded defensively. Valerie was next to her, caution on her face. Jacob glanced briefly in their direction before returning his attention to his ex-wife.

  Deanna shifted herself until she was looking at Aliyah. “And I forgive you too,” she said. “I knew you always wanted to be me, so I can’t blame you for trying when you had the chance.” She grunted. “I suppose your best friend being locked away was the perfect opportunity to steal my man?”

  “I am not your personal property, Deanna,” Jacob said, speaking firmly, his voice rising in upset. “I can marry whomever I want, whenever I want,” he said. “I belong to no one except Allah.”

  She flipped a hand at Jacob. “Like I said, I forgive you. You’re a man, so you can’t help yourself. And Aliyah…” Deanna contorted her face as she regarded her. “…she can’t help herself either because she’s never had a real man in her life.” Deanna shrugged smugly and looked at Jacob. “So I’ll share you with her if that’s what you really want.”

  Jacob shook his head, as if finding it difficult to comprehend the depths of Deanna’s narcissism. “I’m not interested in remarrying you, Deanna. I’m married to Aliyah now, and that’s not going to change insha’Allah.”

  “Jasmine told me you went behind my back.” Deanna was looking at Aliyah now. “But I didn’t want to believe it,” she said. “Because that girl’s a liar and a hypocrite. So I thought she was slandering you just to impress me.” Deanna shook her head, frowning in distaste. “But I see I overestimated you. I thought you were the good Muslim, the one who really feared Allah.” She huffed. “But you’re just like the rest of us. Selfish, pathetic, and greedy.”

  Jacob could see signs of offense on Aliyah’s face, and she looked as if she was going to respond and take the bait. “Do you have a point?” Jacob said to Deanna. “You said you wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”

  “Why her, Jacob?” Deanna’s eyes glistened, but she kept her face stern. “Couldn’t you have chosen someone more…” She gestured her hand flippantly and wrinkled her nose. “…worthy?”

  “Worthy of what?” Jacob said, puzzled disapproval on his face.

  “Worthy of sacrificing our marriage over.”

  He narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Do you really believe that Aliyah is the reason I divorced you?”

  “Isn’t she?” Deanna said, stubbornness in her voice though her face crumpled from hurt.

  “No she is not.”

  “Then why did you marry her?” Her chin quivered and tears shined in her eyes, but her firmness i
n tone suggested that she wasn’t registering her deteriorating state.

  Jacob glanced at Aliyah, who was shaking her head and looking down, apparently in effort to maintain her composure. “Because I wanted to,” he said, not a trace of regret or apology in his voice. “And because I knew she would make me happy, bi’idhnilllah.” At that, Aliyah glanced up, a surprised expression on her face as she looked at him.

  “But what about us?” Deanna said, her words laced in fury.

  “Was there ever an us?” Jacob countered.

  “Of course there was.” The tears pooled in her eyes and rounded her cheeks. But she seemed so detached from her pain right then that it was as if the tears were coming from someone else.

  “No,” Jacob said firmly. “There was only you and your husband project.” He clenched his jaw as he momentarily relived what he had gone through. “A project you started long before we met.”

  “Who told you?” Deanna said, her eyes wide with shock.

  Jacob pulled his head back in confusion. “Told me what?”

  “I only looked up your schedule and followed you so I could know where to find you,” she said defensively. “What’s so wrong with that?”

  “Followed me?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t notice me unless I could meet you alone,” she continued as if not hearing him. “And so I followed you to the welcome center so we could talk.”

  It took several seconds for Jacob to register Deanna’s words, and their meaning. “You followed me there?”

  “Only for a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?”

  Deanna contorted her face and glowered at him, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “But I don’t appreciate you calling it a husband project.”

  Jacob shook his head, too overwhelmed by what she was saying to respond immediately. “I was talking about the way you think about men in general,” he said finally. “Not about how you approached me.”