by Dyanne Davis
“Home, Hamid, back to America, back to Chicago. I’ve had enough.” She burst into tears and began sobbing.
For one brief panic-stricken moment, Hamid stared helplessly at his wife as she stood in the middle of the road and cried. Then he caught her up in his arms. Damn what anyone thought. “Heaven, don’t cry,” he soothed. “We’re leaving in three weeks.”
“I’m leaving tonight.”
“Please, Heaven, don’t leave without me, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to work anymore, you don’t have to come to the clinic again.”
He was holding her, her sobs breaking his heart. This wasn’t how Heaven handled things, not with tears. She fought back. She only cried when she was hurting, when she was missing him, he thought. Damn.
“I thought you were so busy. Why are you out here with me? Why aren’t you in the clinic?” Heaven attempted to push away. “You never touch me in public, why now?”
“I’m out here with you because nothing is as important to me as you are, nothing. And I had no right to talk to you in that manner. I promise I will never do it again.”
“You promised that yesterday, and today you were even worse.” Heaven glared at him. “Your promises are worthless, Hamid.”
He stared at her. She didn’t know how right she was. His promises were worthless. He swallowed. No matter what his reasons for being driven, he truly regretted taking it out on Heaven. “This promise I will keep. I will not yell at you again.”
“I know you’re not, because I’m going home,” Heaven stubbornly insisted. “You stay here, Hamid. This is your dream, not mine.” She turned and pointed toward the clinic.
“You’re my dream, Heaven, that’s my vow. I asked you over a year ago to tell me to give it up. And you didn’t. That’s why I keep returning.”
“Then maybe you should think about just staying here.” Heaven pulled away from him and began walking again, not surprised when a few seconds later the car pulled alongside her and he was asking her to get in.
“Please, Heaven. If you allow me to take you home I can return and help at the clinic.”
She glared at him but got in. It was bad enough that she’d left the others with all the work. Hamid shouldn’t leave as well, not because of her.
All the way home, Heaven refused to speak to Hamid. The moment she was in the door, she pulled her stored luggage from the closet and began throwing her clothes in it.
“Heaven, don’t. Just give me until tonight, just until tonight.”
She started sobbing again. This time Heaven began to worry about herself. She didn’t cry like this when she was angry. She should be telling Hamid where to go, not bawling like a baby.
“Heaven, don’t you think you’re being a little overly emotional?” Her reaction was worrying him. There was something out of sync. This was not Heaven. And then it hit him.
“Heaven, I’m not trying to fight with you, but I want to say something. Just think about it, okay? You don’t usually cry, Heaven, not when we fight.”
For a nanosecond, neither of them breathed. Then Heaven brought her head up. The tears were still streaming down her cheeks, but she had ceased sobbing.
“I’m just tired.”
“No, Heaven, that’s not it. Think about it.”
“How can you tell me what’s wrong? It’s my body.”
“Remember a few nights ago your breasts were tender?”
“So?”
“Heaven.”
She looked at him, understanding dawning when he smiled, but she didn’t smile back.
Hamid mentally calculated. “Heaven, you’ve been in Pakistan for two and a half months, but you’ve had only one cycle. I think you’re…”
“Nah,” Heaven whispered, reverting back to using Urdu.
“Yes.”
“Nah,” Heaven repeated. “I’m not.” But she stopped crying and ran for her calendar. Hamid was right; it had been almost seven weeks. She was way overdue. He didn’t give her a chance to say it. He grabbed the calendar from her hand and began flipping the pages, counting the weeks.
“You’re pregnant,” he whispered softly.
Heaven stared back at him in disbelief. His eyes had such a look of wonder that she didn’t know how to tell him that if she were, she didn’t know if she shared in his excitement. She didn’t want to raise a baby with Hamid leaving her for three months at a time.
“Heaven, you’re not happy about this. Why?”
“I want to go home, Hamid. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this, me in one place and you in another. I don’t want to work in the clinic with you being the doctor and me being your nurse. I had that dream once. I don’t have it anymore.”
Words that had nothing to do with the baby were tumbling out of her mouth. She wanted to make herself stop talking. She could see Hamid’s happiness was draining away.
“I don’t understand. What dream? You told me your dream was to have your own business.” He stopped again. He knew the answer to his question.
“Your dream was to work with Brandon?” He frowned, careful to keep his voice calm regardless of how this was killing him. “And you can’t…you don’t want to work with me because of him? You’re my wife and you can’t work with me? Is that why you’re not excited that we’re having a baby? Did you also dream of having babies with Brandon?”
Hamid had to calm himself. He’d made a promise to Heaven that he wouldn’t break. He licked his lips and took in a deep breath, trying hard not to allow his pain to show. He was concerned now with Heaven.
“Let me say this and you can correct me if I’m wrong. You wanted a baby with Brandon, and now you’re stuck with having mine. Is that what’s bothering you?”
Heaven’s hand shot out to slap her husband, but he caught her hand in his and kissed it.
“No hitting, Heaven.”
“You’re wrong,” she said.
“I’m not wrong that you don’t want this baby.”
“We don’t even know for sure that I’m pregnant.”
“I’m a doctor, you’re a nurse. You’re seven weeks late. It’s easy to do the math. We know, Heaven.”
“Not for sure,” Heaven repeated.
“Still, that doesn’t answer my question. Why are you not happy?”
“Because, Hamid, you’re coming back to Chicago for only a month. I don’t want to raise a baby by myself.” She ran into the bedroom and locked the door. “Give me time to think, Hamid. I’m tired, let me rest.” She could almost feel his body pressing against the door. She knew her husband and knew the idea of leaving her alone in the bedroom wasn’t going over too well. Hamid was a fixer. He wanted to fix the problem.
“Heaven, let me in.”
“Go back to the clinic. They need you there.”
When he didn’t answer, Heaven knew Hamid was thinking she would take off. “I’ll be here when you get home, Hamid.”
“Do you promise?”
“Nah, I don’t promise.” Then Heaven lay on the bed, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Hamid stared at the closed door, wanting to comfort his wife, who wouldn’t need comforting if he had not yelled at her. This was enough. What good would it do to work away his guilt at leaving the clinic to be with his wife if he were going to kill his wife’s love in the process? Not one bit. It was time he told his wife the truth, the reason for his sudden craziness. And he would. Soon.
Heaven was right. He needed to return to the clinic, but first he had another stop to make. He had to say what needed saying. They were having a baby. He smiled at the thought. Heaven would come around once he revealed to her that he would never leave her again. Then she would be as happy as he was.
For now, Hamid would put aside his hurt feelings. She loved him, not Brandon. He’d never had any doubts about that. And he would not allow doubt to creep in now. As for everything else, he put it down to her just being tired.
In fifteen minutes, Hamid was w
alking in the door of his parents’ home and calling to his father. He kissed his mother and his sister Fatima, hugged them briefly, and continued out to the back gardens. He kissed his father’s cheeks, embracing him as he did so.
“There is a very strong possibility that Heaven might be pregnant.” Hamid watched as his father’s eyes sparkled with joy.
“Are you happy?” his father asked.
“You can’t imagine how happy I am, Abba.”
“And Heaven. Is she happy?”
“Heaven’s tired. We’ve been working very hard at the clinic.”
“She’s not happy?”
Hamid shrugged. “She will be. Right now, she’s angry with me. I’ve been trying to get as much done as I could before it’s time to leave. I’ve been yelling at everyone. I yelled at Heaven and she walked out of the clinic.” He shrugged his shoulder. “My wife fights when she’s angry, Abba. Once she gets over being angry she will be happy.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Won’t Heaven be angry when you return here to work?”
Hamid looked his father directly in the eye. “I am not going to allow Heaven to go through her pregnancy alone.”
“What are you saying? Are you breaking your vow?”
“Abba, you forget. I made a vow also to my wife.”
“Does she know you’re breaking your vow?”
“Nah.”
“Does she want you to do this?”
Hamid closed his eyes. “Yes, but she will not say the words. She knows how important the clinic is, how important you are to me, and how important keeping my word to you is. But, Abba, she’s my wife. We’re going to have a baby.”
“Your mother’s heart will be broken that your first child will not be born here, and so will your father’s.”
After moments of silence, Hamid looked hard at his father, then looked away. “My wife’s heart will be broken if I leave her. I will not break her heart, not again. You can come to America, Abba.”
His father nodded, but didn’t answer the invitation.
“I have to go now. There’s a lot of work to do at the clinic.”
“Hamid, you’ve been working too hard, too many hours. Your wife needs you as much in Pakistan as she does in America. Close up like a normal person. The poor and the sick will be with us always. Those you don’t care for one day will return the next. You must not forget that. I never asked you to kill yourself, Hamid. I only asked you to give back some for the blessings Allah has given you. Let Heaven shop, allow her to visit with the women. You mustn’t forget that your wife is an American woman.”
“She’s a very strong American woman, Abba.”
“But you’ve been forcing her to work as hard as you’ve been doing, and she doesn’t even know the reason why. It was not Heaven who made the vow, nor is it Heaven who is breaking it. You have made your guilt hers. We accepted her as our daughter. You will not abuse her, Hamid. I’m not surprised that she’s not happy about the baby. Right now she’s probably not happy with you as a husband.”
A stab of pain went through him at his father’s words. “I don’t blame Heaven for this, Abba. I don’t want you or Ammi to blame her, either. The fault is mine.”
“I know that. I have accepted many things that are not custom because of my love for you. I accepted your marriage to Heaven because I saw how much you loved her and how much she loves you. Too many angry words can stop her from loving you, Hamid. Be careful.”
“Don’t worry, I will not allow our love to erode.”
“Where is Heaven now?”
“She’s home resting.”
“Do you think she’ll be up to coming for dinner tomorrow night?” He looked sternly at Hamid. “At a decent hour, Hamid. Today go work for a couple more hours and let the others go home to their family, and you go home to your wife. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Abba.”
“Good, now tell Fatima to go to your home and stay with Heaven.”
Hamid smiled and embraced his father, again kissing him on each cheek. Then he sought out Fatima, kissed her and thanked her for going to be with Heaven. “Just let her rest for a couple of hours before you go,” he instructed, “I think she needs it.”
“You should not have worked her so hard,” Fatima admonished.
“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” In spite of the mess he’d made of things, Hamid was now happy. He’d at last told his father his decision. He was sure Heaven would be forgiving when he returned home.
* * *
“Sister, open the door.” Fatima banged louder. “Sister.”
Heaven thought for a moment of not answering, but she knew Fatima was not going away. She wondered if Hamid had sent her to sit guard duty.
“Heaven, please open the door.”
Heaven walked slowly to the door, admonishing herself for her behavior. There was no need to be rude to Fatima. She was not involved with her and Hamid’s fight.
“I’m sorry, Fatima,” Heaven said as she opened the door. “I was sleeping and didn’t hear you.”
“You were angry at Hamid and didn’t want to be bothered.”
Heaven couldn’t help laughing at her sister-in-law’s matter-of-fact explanation. “You’re right, I was, and still am, upset with Hamid. Did he tell you to come to make sure I didn’t get on a plane?”
“No, he didn’t say what was wrong or what he’d done. But he was talking with Abba, so I knew it was something serious. I don’t think Ammi or Abba know that you’re planning on leaving. You can’t leave; we have not had enough time with you. Especially since you moved here with Hamid, we haven’t seen you. We want to take you shopping. I want you to go to Dow Hospital and meet my friend Anjum.”
“Fatima, don’t worry. I’m not getting on a plane tonight.” Heaven moved into the sitting room. “I’m sorry we don’t have a lot to offer, but we do have some sweets and bottled water and juice, or I could make you tea.”
“You’ll make me nothing. I came to care for you, not for you to care for me. Now, let’s talk like sisters. What did the favorite son do?”
Again Heaven laughed. “He’s working so hard at the clinic. I don’t think he wants to leave, and I think he’s angry with me that he has to. He yelled at me in front of everyone. He’s never done that before.”
“What do you mean, he doesn’t want to leave? When you weren’t here he walked around with this sour face from missing you.”
Heaven shook her head. “It just doesn’t seem that we’re hitting the right note.” She saw Fatima had no idea what she meant. “When you’re married it takes time to become one.” Heaven stopped when Fatima started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
Fatima covered her mouth and laughed harder.
Heaven frowned, then started taking the twists apart. The same thing she’d been doing when Fatima had knocked.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m redoing my hair.”
“Why don’t you wear your hair long?”
“I don’t have long hair.”
“Why?”
“Not everyone has long hair.”
“Here in Pakistan they do.”
“In America they don’t.”
Heaven had more than half of the twists out when she noticed Fatima staring at her in an odd manner. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Your hair.” Fatima smiled. “It looks beautiful, wild, and sexy.”
“Sexy?” Heaven’s hands left her head and she sat stunned, staring at Fatima.
“What, you think I don’t know about sexy? I’ve been married.”
“Married!” Now Fatima definitely had Heaven’s attention. “I didn’t know that.”
“Of course you didn’t. I’m the family shame. Hamid would not have told you.”
“But why?” Heaven asked. “Divorce is permitted in your religion.”
“Yes, of course, but I was married twice. I have no children from either ma
rriage, so I’m now thought of as damaged goods. Only I know it isn’t true.”
Heaven couldn’t believe what Fatima was saying. “Did you take birth control pills?” she asked in a whisper.
Fatima just looked at her for a moment and Heaven thought she’d crossed the line, that maybe Fatima wouldn’t answer. But then a change came over Fatima’s face and Heaven sat ready to listen.
“Neither of my marriages was for love, not like you and Hamid. I was the dutiful daughter. I agreed to an arranged marriage with my first cousin. I have a friend that is a doctor. She said if I didn’t produce sons or daughters, after some time passed, my husband would divorce me. So she helped me. When Abba arranged a second marriage, with another cousin, Anjun helped me again. After this divorce, no one wanted to marry me. Because I have no prospects and I’m now in my forties, I am free to do what I want. I can go on holiday with my friend and neither of us has to worry.”
“Is your friend divorced as well?” Heaven asked, curious.
“No, she refused to marry. She said a man is a hypocrite, that he wants us to cover ourselves in the daytime and be wicked in bed.” Fatima laughed. “All men are like that, I think.” She looked slyly at Heaven. “How about Hamid? Is he like that?”
Heaven laughed. This conversation was the last thing she’d expected. She remembered a conversation she’d had with Hamid about Pakistani women and sex, and she laughed harder.
“Why are you laughing, Sister? Is Hamid bad?”
“I’m not answering your questions.”
“Why not? Both of my husbands were bad. Neither cared if what they did pleased me. They climbed on top and did their business.”
Questions roared through Heaven’s mind, things she wanted to ask but didn’t dare; she was bowing out of this conversation. “Fatima, I haven’t seen much of your sisters or your brothers.”
“They’re coming again, don’t worry. They live far away. Now tell me, is my brother like all men?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“Oh Sister, I’m so sorry that Hamid doesn’t please you.”
Heaven laughed. So, Fatima thought she could use psychology and make her talk. “Hamid makes me very happy.” The words popped out and Heaven smiled. Apparently Fatima’s psychology had worked.