What We Learned Along the Way (32 page)

“They were preemies, so they’re still a
little small,” said Jaime. Hayyat was watching the children’s show
on the muted TV, but Joseph was distracted by the shiny object on
Rashad’s arm.

“I think he likes your watch,” Joseph said.
The baby reached for the sparkly treasure. Rashad moved closer to
make his goal attainable.

“He wants you. Take him,” Mariam said. Rashad
picked up the surprisingly-light boy and took off his watch for him
to play with. As he played, slobber dripped all over the watch.

“You might want to take that from him if you
want it to still work when you leave,” Joseph suggested.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Rashad said
nicely, completely unalarmed that the gears of his expensive watch
were being flooded. He had a peaceful look in his eyes that Mariam
had never seen before. Another pang of jealousy shot through her.
At the end of the night, they said their salaams, took a few more
pictures and got on the road.

“That went well,” Rashad said as they drove
to their hotel, that peaceful look still in his eyes.

“Yes, it was nice, a little awkward, but
nice,” Mariam agreed. They drove in silence for a few miles.
“Rashad?” she finally said.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Let’s have a baby.”

“Sister Aliya, you’ve really outdone yourself
with this banquet,” an older woman commented as she admired the
beautifully decorated hall.

“Thank you, Sister Karen. I worked really
hard.” Aliya had almost single-handedly planned the 7th annual
Islamic Community Unity Banquet. In the beginning, Malikah helped,
but ever since her accident, she hadn’t been coming around that
much. Aliya called her when she could, but she was really busy.

“When do we go on?” a group of little kids
ran up to her and asked.

“Head back stage and look for Sister Jasmine.
She’ll help you all get ready.” As much as she wanted to dislike
her dad’s new wife, they had actually started to grow close over
the past few weeks. She had been a big help with the banquet
program. Aliya went to sit down, but was approached by Brother
Hamid.
Not Brother Hamid
. He was a sweet, but loud man that
didn’t seem to know the difference between inside and outside
voices. He also had a problem picking up on social cues. No matter
how annoyed you looked, he would continue to talk until he was
ready to stop.

“Sister Aliya,” he said in a booming voice.
“Got the latest edition of the Muslim Times?” He held up a stack of
papers.

“Yes, Brother Hamid. We get ours delivered to
the house, remember? I’ve told you that every week for the past
month now.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Shoot, that’s
right. Guess, I forgot, huh? Anyway, where’s your husband? I need
to talk to him about some business.” He pronounced the word like
"bid-ness."

“He’s around here somewhere,” Aliya said,
trying to spot him in the crowd.

“Oh, I see him,” he bellowed. “Over there
talking to that new sister.” He tucked his papers under his arm and
walked quickly toward Langston and the woman. Aliya couldn’t see
Langston or the woman he was talking to, so she followed Brother
Hamid with her eyes until she spotted them.

“Who was that you were talking to?” she asked
later that night in bed. Langston finished the sentence he was
reading in his magazine before answering.

“Who was I taking to when?”

“At the banquet. You were talking to a woman
when Brother Hamid walked up to you.” He made a face like he was
trying to recall all the people he had talked to that night.

“Oh, you mean She’tay. I think that’s what
she said her name was.”

What kind of name is She’tay? I bet it has
one of those unnecessary accents on it, Aliya thought to
herself.

“What was she talking about?”

“She’s new to the mosque and wanted some
information about the program. I think she saw me coming from
backstage and assumed I was the person to talk to. Nice sister. You
should get to know her.” Langston opened his magazine to where he’d
left off and continued reading. Aliya rolled over and went to
sleep.

The biweekly sisters’ meeting started at 2:30
on Sundays. Aliya arrived at 3 o’clock. “So sorry I’m late,” she
started to say, but the women weren’t paying attention.

“All I’m saying is that you better watch your
husbands. I don’t trust her.”

“We don’t even know her yet. Let’s give her a
chance.”

“We don’t have to. Half the men in this town
have.”

Aliya was confused. She thought she was on
her way to a sisters’ meeting, but felt like she had walked into a
high school lunch room full of gossiping teen girls.

“As salaam alaikum, ladies. What’s with all
this backbiting?” Aliya interrupted.

“You’re right. We need to stop. I was just
warning them to watch their men around that new sister, She’tay,”
said one of the women. Aliya was not one for gossip—she had been on
the receiving end of it far too many times—but considering that her
husband had already decided to befriend this woman, she wanted to
hear what they had to say.

“Why should we watch our men around her?”
Aliya asked.

“Let’s just say she has a colorful past. She
used to dance in rap videos and even has ties to some political
figures. She gets around,” the woman said. Aliya didn’t want to
just accept what she was hearing about a woman she had never met.
She knew people had said similar things about her, none of which
were true.

“Even if that stuff is true, she’s obviously
changed. Maybe she’s grown,” Aliya suggested.

“Yeah, she’s grown, alright. Grown too big
for those tight clothes she has the nerve to wear.” The women
laughed.

Aliya had had enough. “So, are we going to
get down to business or spend the rest of the evening discussing
someone who isn’t here to defend herself?” The group agreed that it
was time to discuss something productive. Aliya loved the women in
her sisters’ group, but wondered if they had once talked about her
just as callously.

“How much did we make at the banquet?” Sister
Sarah asked. Aliya pulled a folder out of her bag. She shuffled
through it until she found the paper she was looking for.

“Minus expenses, we made twenty five hundred
dollars, which is five hundred past our goal,” she said excitedly.
“At this rate, we’ll be able to make our expansion dream a
reality.” As far back as Aliya could remember, the mosque had been
trying to raise money to expand the building for an elementary
school. They had never even come close, but now that Aliya had
practically thrown herself headfirst into the events committee,
they were well on their way to having that school after all.

“We raised over two thousand at the banquet,”
she told Langston when she got home. “Jasmine said that’s more than
they’ve ever raised before.” Aliya was proud of herself.

“Sounds like Jasmine’s been saying a lot
lately,” Langston said while mixing a batch of cookie dough.
“Jasmine says this. Jasmine says that,” he imitated. “She must be
growing on you.”

“I guess she’s okay, but we’re not friends or
anything like that, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Aliya
said, becoming slightly defensive.

“Of course not. Never that.”

“Something smells good, daddy,” Harlem said
as she walked into the kitchen.

“Sure does. That’s daddy’s secret recipe.”
Every time they went to any type of potluck event, Langston always
brought his famous peanut butter cookies, and they were always a
hit. Aliya stared at Harlem. She was so tall now, like a completely
different person. Aliya couldn’t believe she was almost 5. She also
couldn’t believe the comment she’d made in that horrible argument a
few months back. If she could take back anything in life, it would
be that. They had made up and talked about it, but Langston was
never quite the same. It was almost as if he had left a small part
of himself wherever he’d driven off to that night. Aliya never did
work up the nerve to ask him where he’d been. She just thanked God
when he showed up early the next morning and slid into bed next to
her.

“So, you guys are raising lots of money? You
need to sell these babies,” he said, holding up a ball of dough.
“You’ll have your school in no time. Ain’t that right, Harlem?”

“Right, daddy,” Harlem said cheerfully.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. How about
you mix up a batch to sell at the mosque next week?”

He rubbed his chin like he was thinking. “I
don’t know about that. I mean, these are special cookies. I can’t
just have anyone selling them. Who do you all have working the
table?” He seemed really interested in who was going to be selling
his confections.

“I don’t know. We rotate. I think it’s Sister
Sarah’s week.”

“Sister Sarah? See, that’s what I’m talking
about. She picks her nose. She’s not worthy.” He held his mixing
bowl close like a parent protecting a child. The three of them
laughed. Aliya didn’t admit it, but she could recall a few times
she’d caught Sister Sarah with a busy finger. “I’m just joking.
Sure, you guys can sell my cookies, but I was serious about Sister
Sarah. She’ll have to keep her distance.”

“Scouts honor,” Aliya reassured him.

That week after jummah prayer, Sister Sarah
took her place behind the table. Aliya followed quickly behind.

“You know what, Sarah? I’m in a selling mood
today. Why don’t you take the afternoon off?”

“Are you sure? You sold last week.” Aliya
felt bad. Sister Sarah was so nice, but a promise was a
promise.

“Yea, girl. Don’t even worry about it. I got
this.” She breathed a sigh of relief as Sister Sarah walked away.
Just as Aliya had expected, the cookies were a hit. Langston had
baked a hundred bags and they were nearly out. There were ten
people in line, and Aliya needed a bathroom break. She grabbed her
husband’s arm as he tried to walk by. “Honey, I need to run to the
bathroom. Can you man the table for a few minutes?” Before he even
had a chance to answer, Aliya walked briskly toward the
bathroom.

Langston sold cookies and made small talk
with the customers. He noticed the money pile was in disarray, so
he stopped for a second to get the bills organized. “I’ll be right
with you,” he said to the next person in line, his attention still
on the bills.

“So you run programs and you bake? I guess
you’re just a modern day renaissance man,” a familiar voice said.
It was She’tay. She wore a skirt that was long, but a little too
fitted to be appropriate.

“I just help out when I can. What can I do
for you?” he asked nicely.

“There are a few things you can do for me,”
she said under her breath.

“Excuse me? I didn’t hear you,” Langston
said, truly unaware of the flirtatious comment.

“Oh, I just said I’ll take two bags of your
delicious cookies. On second thought, make it three.”

“Three it is.” He gathered the cookie bags
and handed them over. She grabbed the bags, making sure to brush
his hand.

“I’ll take it from here,” Aliya said in a
less-than-polite voice. She had been standing in the doorway and
noticed She’tay’s friendly behavior.

“Thanks, hun. You’re just in time. I have to
go talk to your dad before he leaves.” Langston trotted out of the
back door to catch Mr. Ansar.

“Nice seeing you again,” She’tay said before
he was out of earshot. He didn’t turn around, but threw up a hand
of acknowledgement.

“Anything else I can help you with?” Aliya
said with an attitude that read “Try something, heifer. I’m
waiting.”

“Nope. I have all I need,” She’tay said,
dangling the cookie bags in her hand. “Thanks anyway.” She walked
away switching the hips that had gotten her so much attention in
her previous life.

“How much did we rake in with the cookies?”
Langston asked on the car ride home. “You get enough for the school
or do you need to sell for one more week?” he joked.

“I don’t know,” Aliya said coldly. “Why don’t
you ask She’tay? Oh, excuse me, I meant Sister She’tay.” She didn’t
even try to hide her attitude.

“Okay, what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means she was flirting with you and you
know it.”

“What are you talking about? All she did was
buy some cookies. Come on, Aliya. We’ve been having a nice day.
Let’s not go there.”

“All she did was buy cookies, huh? I was
there selling for nearly 45 minutes. She didn’t seem interested at
all. You take over for 2 seconds and all of a sudden she has a
sweet tooth.”

“You’re tripping, Aliya. If I didn’t know any
better, I’d think you just want to start an argument.” He kept his
eyes on the road, but could feel hers burning a hole in the side of
his head.

“No, what I want is for that whore not to
flirt with my husband!”

“Whore! That’s harsh. You don’t even know
that woman.”

“Oh, and you do?”

“No, I don’t know her either, but what I hear
is that she’s really trying to get her life together. Apparently
one of her last boyfriends was a Muslim and really opened her eyes
to Islam.”

“Wow, sounds like you really care.” Aliya
said sarcastically.

“I do. The same way I’d care about any other
person trying to get on the straight and narrow.”

“Whatever, Langston. Ain’t nothing straight
or narrow about her.”

“What are you scared of? That I’m going to
fall for this complete stranger and leave my incredibly wonderful
and beautiful wife? What does she have that I’m not already getting
from you?”

“Twenty five pounds and a girdle,” Aliya
answered. With her arms crossed and her face frowned up, she looked
like a little kid.

“Two things I definitely don’t need. You
don’t have anything to worry about, baby. You’re the girl for me.”
He put his hand on her knee. Aliya smiled. Langston smiled too.