by Umm Zakiyyah
Aliyah smirked and started to ask what he meant, but he cut her off by kissing her softly on the lips. She relaxed as he leaned into her and kept kissing her, and she felt her heart racing in eagerness to be closer to him.
“I just need to make sure you’re real,” he whispered.
Aliyah opened her mouth to speak but her breath caught as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it too. A second later he stood and scooped her off the couch and carried her up to his office, where he now kept a fold-out mattress.
“We’re going to make our own memories,” Jacob had told Aliyah when he first showed it to her. “Before marrying you, all I ever did in this room was work. It was the one place in the house that was only mine. I used to consider it my oasis,” he told her. “Now it really is.”
***
“Why did you keep saying no to me?” Jacob asked an hour later as they lay in the darkness of his home office, a streetlight outside the window creating a soft glow on their faces. “I mean, before we got married?” His head was propped up by a fist, his elbow in the fold-out mattress beneath them as his free hand toyed with the twists of Aliyah’s air, his expression reflective.
Aliyah drew in a deep breath and exhaled, unsure how to answer the question. It was difficult to put into words. Her instinct was to say Deanna, but she now knew that wasn’t fully true.
Going through a divorce had made the entire world seem like an unstable place. Nothing and no one was safe anymore. The possibility of someone genuinely caring for her, especially a man, was an experience she associated with fairytales and an eternal life after death. It didn’t help that her own parents and siblings had abandoned her long before Matt did, so Aliyah was morose in the most visceral way. Burdened by feelings of worthlessness, she was afraid to trust again. It was too risky. Trust had only brought pain and abandonment. So it was safest to trust only herself.
And then there was the part of Aliyah that had believed what Deanna had said about her. Aliyah didn’t know how to keep a man. She didn’t know how to keep a marriage. She didn’t even know how to keep her own family. “If you can’t find a way to have a good relationship with your own parents,” Deanna would often say, “then that says a lot about your Islam.” And perhaps it did say a lot about her Islam, Aliyah considered. It was a possibility that she didn’t dismiss, even now.
“I was scared,” Aliyah said finally, her voice low as she was lost in thought. “Marrying you went against everything I thought I believed.”
Jacob was silent for so long that she feared that she’d offended him. “I know what you mean,” he said finally. “I never thought I’d try to marry another wife, and I never thought I’d get a divorce.”
Aliyah frowned thoughtfully as she looked toward him. “Really?”
He nodded as a reflective grin creased one corner of his mouth. “The Bivens are upstanding members of the community,” he said, lighthearted sarcasm in his tone.
She coughed agreement. “Sounds like the Thomases.”
He huffed and shook his head. “Sounds like the everybody, if you ask me,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who didn’t at least at some point in their life imagine that their family was some remarkable gift to the world or an exception to all the corruption on earth.” A shadow of sadness fell over his face. “Even the ones who come from the most miserable backgrounds.”
Aliyah was quiet as she remembered the heartbreaking conversation that she and Deanna had had late into the night during the snowstorm. “Deanna told me about her cousin Bailey,” she said, her tone heavy with sadness. “It makes me feel bad that I wasn’t more patient with her.”
Jacob sighed and dropped his fist to the bed and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “She told me after we got married.” He spoke as if the memory still haunted him. “That’s why I stayed so long.”
Aliyah was quiet as she imagined the pain that Jacob must have gone through all those years. “You did the right thing.”
Jacob exhaled in a single breath, unmasked self-reproach in that sound. “Did I?” Jacob’s face was contorted in disagreement when he turned his head to look at Aliyah. “I don’t think so,” he said, returning his gaze to the ceiling. “I should’ve never married her in the first place.”
“You don’t mean that…”
He shook his head, and Aliyah could see the firmness of his jawline in the dim light. “I do mean it,” he said in a tone that suggested there was not a shred of doubt in his words. “And not because I think she was a horrible person,” he said. “But because I think I was a horrible husband.” He shook his head again. “She needed someone else. I just hope she finds him one day.”
His tone was so regretful that it pained Aliyah to listen. “I didn’t know anything about that kind of trauma,” he said. “So I had no business trying to be her savior.”
“But you didn’t know until after you were married,” Aliyah said softly, hoping her words would soothe him somehow.
“That’s no excuse,” Jacob said. “The signs were there long before then, clear as day.”
Aliyah contorted her face in disapproval. “How?” she said. “You’re not psychic.”
“But my gut told me something was off from day one.”
“Twenty-twenty hindsight,” she said.
He placed one hand behind his head, his gaze still upwards. “Maybe,” he muttered.
“Guilt and obligation get all of us, I think,” Aliyah said reflectively. “It’s hard to get away from because, like you told me before we got married, sometimes it’s connected to pleasing Allah.”
Jacob turned his head toward Aliyah, a curious smirk on his face. “I told you that?”
She smiled back at him. “Yes you did,” she said. “Your exact words were, ‘You have to be careful with that though. Guilty obligation isn’t mutually exclusive to pleasing Allah.’”
“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t remember.”
“You had stopped by my office and I started complaining about how my Islamic studies teachers had made me feel guilty instead of inspired, so I started doing things out of guilty obligation instead of trying to please Allah.”
An expression of recollection passed over his face, and Aliyah smiled as she saw that his spirits had lifted. “Was that the day we were talking about that James Allen quote on your wall?” he said.
“Adapted quote to be exact,” Aliyah said, a smile in her voice.
“We are anxious to improve our circumstances,” Jacob recited, “but are unwilling to improve ourselves. We therefore remain bound.”
“You have a good memory, mashaAllah,” she teased, nudging him playfully with her elbow.
He chuckled. “It’s really not that hard to remember, especially since I’ve read As a Man Thinketh a zillion times.”
“Really? I thought I was the only nerd at the college.”
“Ha ha ha,” Jacob said, nudging her back.
“You think Dr. Warren would’ve really made me take it down if I’d left it as the original quote?” Aliyah said. “I went back and forth a few times before I decided it was safest to change men to we.”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know… She can surprise you sometimes, in a good way I mean. But I think your decision was wisest, especially since you were new there. The last thing you want to do is get on your supervisor’s bad side.”
Aliyah chuckled. “Too late for that.”
“Well…” Jacob said, humor in his tone, purposefully leaving his thought unfinished.
“Speaking of which,” Aliyah said, her voice rising cheerfully. “One of my atheist students had an epiphany.”
“What’s that?” Jacob said, looking at Aliyah, humored expectation in his voice.
“God exists!”
Jacob cackled in laughter.
“I know…” Aliyah said, laughter in her own voice.
“Did you tell her that God never ceased to exist, even when she was an atheist?”
“No,” Aliyah
said, a smile in her voice. “I didn’t want to ruin her special moment.”
“MashaAllah,” Jacob said, his tone more subdued. “May Allah guide her.”
“Ameen.”
There was an extended silence, and Aliyah felt her limbs growing weak with exhaustion. She shifted her position so that she was lying with her back against Jacob, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
“I got the weirdest text yesterday,” Jacob said, a tinge of tiredness in his voice.
“What’s that?” Aliyah said as she settled comfortably in his arms.
“Deanna was saying that she thought the colors teal and black would work best for our theme colors,” he said.
“Oh yeah,” Aliyah said with a groan, remembering just then Deanna calling a week ago to say that she had decided to become proactive in getting beyond the past. “She calls herself helping plan our waleemah.”
“How did she even find out about it?”
Aliyah cringed in embarrassment. “I think it came up the night she stayed over.”
Jacob sighed, but Aliyah could tell he was more concerned than upset. “And you invited her?”
“No…”
“And you didn’t ask her to help plan it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why would she text me something like that?”
“I think she considers this part of her healing process,” Aliyah said, overcome with dread.
“Taking over our waleemah?” Jacob said in disbelief.
“I guess so…”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Aliyah was quiet, unsure how to respond. In truth, she wasn’t even sure she wanted Deanna there at all. But given that it would be an open invitation to the Muslim community, she didn’t see how she could un-invite Deanna, especially since she was the mother of Aliyah’s stepsons. “Not really,” she said, embarrassment in her tone. “But I keep thinking, is it really such a bad thing, you know? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
Jacob huffed. “Trust me,” he said. “That’s not a question you want honestly answered in the context of Deanna.”
There was a thoughtful pause. “She’s seeing a psychiatrist now, isn’t she?” Aliyah asked.
“Yes, finally,” Jacob said, relief in his tone. “It was like pulling teeth to convince her that we couldn’t start co-parenting counseling together until we did individual counseling on our own.”
“We?” Aliyah repeated in confusion.
“Well,” he said with a sigh, “you know how it is with her. She can’t feel like she’s the only one who needs help. So I told her I’d look into it too.”
“And you really plan to?”
He was silent momentarily. “I’m thinking about it.”
“But why?” Aliyah said, disapproval in her tone. “You’re not mentally ill. She is.”
“I never thought I was,” Jacob said. “I just think it can help, you know…”
“With what?” Aliyah turned her head as far as she could.
“I have a lot of emotional baggage myself,” he said.
“Don’t we all?” she said. “That doesn’t mean we need a psychiatrist. Some things we just have to give to Allah.”
“And you think they’re mutually exclusive?” he said doubtfully. “Allah sends down the disease, and He sends down the cure. And that’s not just with physical diseases.”
Aliyah sighed thoughtfully. “Just be careful…”
“Of what?”
“Some of these people have a God complex.”
Jacob grunted agreement. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m dragging my feet. I’ve heard a lot of horror stories, especially from Muslims going to psychologists who were not understanding of Islam, to put it lightly.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Aliyah said. “Everyone isn’t qualified to advise us. They want to blame everything on our religion and try to convince us to leave Islam.”
“Or suggest healing methods that contradict our faith,” he said, “even if they’re not doing it on purpose.”
“Well, you won’t see me going to one of them, insha’Allah,” Aliyah said with conviction. “I don’t trust a single one of them, even the Muslim ones.”
“Are you serious?” Jacob sounded surprised.
“As a heart attack,” Aliyah said. “Deanna was my introduction to Muslim mental health professionals, and I think I’ve heard enough for a lifetime.”
A thoughtful silence followed. “You’re going to let her help with the waleemah?” Jacob asked.
Aliyah sighed. “At this point, I don’t think I have a choice.”
“Don’t do it unless you really want to.”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t know what I want. A part of me is scared to have her as an active part of my life again, especially for something so personal. But there’s another part of me that’s relieved and excited.” She frowned self-consciously. “Does that make any sense?”
“It makes a lot of sense,” Jacob said tentatively. “But I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret, especially on a day that should be about you.”
“Do you mind if she’s involved?”
“Me?” Jacob spoke as if the thought had never crossed his mind. “I don’t mind either way, as long as you’re happy.” There was a brief pause as he seemed to be lost in thought. “I just fear this isn’t going to end well,” he said honestly.
“I know… I fear the same thing,” Aliyah said. “But it’s so refreshing to see her happy again.”
“Again?” Jacob said, humor in his tone.
Aliyah chuckled self-consciously. “Well, it’s refreshing to see her happy,” she said. “And if I can be a part of making that happen, then I’m honored.”
“As long as it’s what you want to do,” Jacob said, concern and doubt in his tone. “I mean, considering everything.”
Aliyah nodded. “It is,” she said sincerely. “It’s not ideal,” she admitted. “But I think we can make it work.”
***
“Mashael!” Aliyah squealed into the phone Sunday morning as she held her cell phone between her shoulder and ear as she stood in front of the stove in Jacob’s kitchen. She set down the spatula she had been using to tease the eggs then pulled the cell phone away from her ear. She turned to where Jacob stood at the counter dicing raw kale. “It’s Mashael,” she whispered, an excited grin on her face.
Jacob chuckled. “I heard,” he joked. But Aliyah had already turned back around, picked up the spatula, and was engrossed in animated conversation, the phone back between her shoulder and ear. Jacob smiled to himself, pleased to see his wife happy.
“Is Sheldon with you?” he heard Aliyah say, hope in her voice. There was a brief pause. “Of course! We’re fixing breakfast now.” Another pause. “No, it’s no problem really…Great. insha’Allah, we’ll see you soon.”
Aliyah set her phone on the kitchen table then walked back over to the stove. “Can you believe it?” she said, a smile in her voice as she shook her head, glancing at Jacob as she held the spatula in hand. “I almost didn’t answer.”
“So…” Jacob said in lighthearted teasing. “Are we having company?”
“Oh my God,” Aliyah said, apology in her tone. “Is it okay?”
Jacob laughed and shook his head. “I guess it is now, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” Aliyah said. “I was so excited, I didn’t even think to ask you first.”
“It’s okay, really,” Jacob said, and meaning it. “I’ll just wake up the boys so they can help me straighten up a bit.”
He set down the knife and gathered the chopped kale with both hands then walked it over to the stove and sprinkled it atop the scrambled eggs. “How far are they?”
“She said they’re about twenty minutes away.”
“From the city, or from here?”
“From h—” Aliyah’s eyes widened, leaving her response unfinished. She quickly dropp
ed the spatula on the counter then hurried to the kitchen table to pick up her phone.
“What’s wrong?” Jacob said, concern in his voice.
“I think they’re on their way to my apartment,” Aliyah said, her forefinger quickly unlocking the screen and tapping the call log. “I forgot to tell her we’re here.”
As Aliyah walked out the kitchen with the phone to her ear to give Mashael the address, Jacob picked up the spatula. Folding the kale into the eggs, Jacob remembered the call he’d gotten from the realtor about the house. There was a family interested in buying and wanted to schedule a tour. Jacob had said he’d get back with them after he checked his schedule, but it had been two days, and he couldn’t bring himself to confirm a time.
Initially, selling the house seemed like the logical thing to do. This was a house he’d bought for him and Deanna, and he and Aliyah needed to start anew. It was even important for Younus and Thawab to have a fresh start, he’d decided. Having Aliyah as a stepmother in the same home in which their mother had lived would be confusing to them, he’d thought. But now he wasn’t so sure. Having Aliyah around, though only occasionally, had given life to the house in a way that Jacob had never imagined. Younus and Thawab laughed more, played more, and even talked more freely.
“Divorce doesn’t have to be tragic,” he remembered hearing a relationship expert say during a television interview. “I’m still not sure why we prefer to believe it must be,” she’d said, “especially when there are so many more tragic stories from the homes of two people who would never even consider divorce.” At the time, Jacob was still married to Deanna and didn’t give the expert’s words much thought except to assume they were in reference to men and women who remained in abusive relationships.
“Why do we do that?” Aliyah had asked Jacob during a conversation one day. “Why do we put rules on ourselves that Allah doesn’t? If Allah hates divorce, He hates even more for us to destroy our lives and souls,” she’d said. “And that doesn’t only happen when you’re married to a monster.”