What We Learned Along the Way (34 page)

“Jaime, you can’t honestly believe this is
your fault.”

“Then whose fault is it? They were fine
before all this happened. I had never even seen them argue until I
got pregnant” she said, her eyes still full of tears.

“Of course they never argued. You’re parents
didn’t really talk to each other. I’m sure your pregnancy brought a
lot to the surface, but it was already there. You didn’t ruin
anything.” Joseph was trying to comfort his wife. He didn’t know he
was just making things worse.

“What do you mean it was already there? So,
what are you saying, that my parents have always had a bad
marriage? Just because you spent a few Fridays with them at jummah
doesn’t mean you know anything about them.” She stood up and walked
over to the other sofa.

“You’re right. I don’t know anything about
your parents. I’m sorry.” As much as Joseph wanted to make Jaime
feel better, he knew when to be quiet.

“So my parents aren’t all over each other
like yours are, and they’re not the most talkative people around.
That doesn’t mean anything. For 34 years, my parents have had a
good marriage! They were happy. I know they were,” she said with a
loud and firm voice.

Jaime couldn’t sleep that night. She kept
thinking about what Joseph had said.
I’m sure your pregnancy
brought a lot to the surface, but it was already there.
What
was already there? Their lack of passion and affection? Her
father’s impenetrable shell and complete lack of emotion? Her
mother’s sincere heart and soft, powerless voice? The comfortable
and inappropriate quiet that characterized their relationship? Was
this divorce written from the beginning? But it couldn’t be.

Jaime had read the wonderful love letters her
parents had written during their courtship. She could feel the
happiness dripping from the old, weathered envelop marked “Wedding
Pictures.” Her mother’s timeless gown. Her father’s overjoyed eyes.
It was all there. They were happy. Maybe it was a long time ago.
Maybe it was before she was ever born, but they were happy. And
with that thought, Jaime went to sleep.

“Hayyat and Joseph, telephone,” Jaime yelled,
holding the receiver in her left hand. “They’re coming,” she told
her mother on the other end. The sound of four quick but unsteady
feet came pounding around the corner. “Grandma Jamilah’s on the
phone. She wants to talk to you.”

The two took turns mumbling indecipherable
baby talk into the phone. Every once in a while, they’d throw in a
fervent “no” or “mine,” the only two English words they’d mastered.
Jamilah loved talking to her grandchildren and called at least once
a week.

“So, how’s it going?” Jaime asked after
prying the phone from the children and wiping the slobber from the
receiver.

“Alhamdulillah. I can’t complain,” Jamilah’s
voice always sounded calm and relaxed, even in the middle of a
divorce.

“Maybe that’s the problem. You never
complain.”

“And why would I do that, Pumpkin? Even when
things are hard, God is still in control. What good would
complaining do?” The name Pumpkin took Jaime back to her childhood.
Her parents stopped calling her that when she hit puberty and her
unbelievably round face finally started to thin out; the name no
longer applied.

“Okay, maybe ‘complain’ is the wrong word,
but you never stand up for yourself. You never stood up for me.
Maybe if you said something every once in a while instead of always
cowering in his shadow, he would have...” The words came streaming
out before Jaime could stop them. Finally, she got some
control.

Jamilah remained calm. “Maybe he would have
what? Stayed with me? Jaime, there’s a lot you don’t know about
your father and me.”

“I know enough. Everything was fine until my
pregnancy ruined it. Daddy flipped and you just let him, like
always. Every time something happens, he makes a big deal out of it
and you just go along with whatever he says. Like the time I wanted
to go to that weekend band camp when I was a girl. He said no
because there would be boys there. I begged you to tell him it
would be a great experience for me. I begged you to tell him I
could get a scholarship out of it. I begged you to tell him there
was only one boy in the whole program, but you didn’t say a thing!
You’re never willing to fight. You always just give up.” Up until
that point, Jaime hadn’t realized how much she resented her
mother.

“I know this is hurting you right now. That’s
the only reason I’m letting you talk to me like this, but remember
who your mother is. You say everything was fine until you got
pregnant? You’re able to think that because of the sacrifices I
made throughout this marriage. Your father is a good man, a great
man, but your sister’s death hit him really hard. It completely
changed him. All those years I was quiet and submissive, it wasn’t
because I was weak and spineless. It was because I was dedicated to
my family and marriage and didn’t want you growing up in a chaotic
home. I didn’t want you to have fighting, divorced parents, so I
did what I had to do to keep the peace. You think I’m weak? A weak
woman wouldn’t have been able to endure what I did. You’re grown
now, Jaime. It’s time for you to make your own sacrifices. It’s not
my job anymore. So, your pregnancy didn’t ruin anything. It only
opened a door I’ve been waiting to walk through for years. With or
without your pregnancy, that door would have opened.”

Jaime was speechless. She had never met this
person she was speaking to, the owner of this strong, resolute
voice. She didn’t know what to say.

“You wanted this divorce? But you and daddy
where happy? You never argued once,” Jaime stammered.

Jamilah chose her words carefully. “I was
happy to have husband that provided for me and cared about you so
much. I was happy to provide you with a happy childhood.” Jaime
waited to see if there was more. There wasn’t.

For the next few days, the guilt weighed
Jaime down like an anchor. Had her mother really sacrificed her
happiness all those years just for her? And would she be expected
to do the same? Is that what it meant to be a wife, to have nothing
for yourself, not even peace of mind? She wasn’t sure if she could
live up to that.

The new landscaping in the front yard almost
made Jaime drive past her old home. “When did this happen?” she
said aloud, pleasantly surprised by the pink and purple flowers
that surrounded the finely trimmed shrubs. The yard she remembered
had always been plain and unremarkable. The living room, too, had
changed. It looked like it belonged to a completely different home.
“Where’s Big Blue?” Jaime asked her mother, referring to the
massive navy blue couch she’d practically grown up on.

“I got rid of that thing. I hated it. It took
up half the room. This is so much better,” her mother said as she
plopped down on the new camel-colored, suede couch and caressed one
of the pillows.

“From the looks of it, you hated everything
in the house,” Jaime said as she took another look at the
completely unfamiliar room. Gone were the cream colored bare walls,
shiny wooden floors, and overwhelming smell of incense. Her mother
had painted, put up artwork, hung plants, placed a beautiful
Persian rug on the floor and, apparently, cleared out all the
incense her dad used to burn incessantly. Now the room was intense,
exotic and beautiful. Definitely not her mother’s style. “Looks
nice. Who’d you hire to do all this?”

“Who’d I hire? You don’t think I could do
something like this on my own?”

“It’s gorgeous, but it’s not you. It looks
like you hired a really chic interior designer,” Jaime
admitted.

“I don’t know if I should take that as a
complement or an insult.”

“I mean, come on. The textured walls, the
artwork. No offense, but you’ve always been a Plain Jane. You never
took interest in decorating before.”

Jamilah laughed. “Do you like that picture on
the wall? The one with the red streak across the front.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jaime answered.

“And what about the one of the ocean
waves?”

“I love it.”

“I painted those,” Jamilah said, beaming with
pride.

“Are you serious? They look great. Since when
did you become an artist?”

“I’ve always had a deep love for all things
creative. I actually sold some of my painting when I was in high
school. One went for $25. That was big money back then.” She stared
off into space as she spoke, reminiscing on her previous life. “I
had big dreams.”

Jaime did a double take. Information
overload. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?

I spent my whole life thinking I had a square
for a mother.”

“You spent your whole life thinking a lot of
things,” Jamilah said, straightening one of her paintings on the
wall. “Where are the munchkins? I can’t believe you didn’t bring
them with you.”

“They’re with Joseph. I needed a break,”
Jaime said with a big sigh. At 16 months, the twins were more
active and vocal than ever. Joseph liked to refer to them as
“appropriately curious.” He was such an optimist. “Talked to
daddy?” Jaime asked. Though the divorce had been final for a few
months, Jaime still hoped the two of them would reconcile.

“Actually, yes. He came by last week, looking
for pictures of the kids.”

“What kids?” Jaime was confused.

“Your kids. I guess he’s finally coming
around. I wouldn’t be surprised if he called you up one of these
days.” Jaime’s throat was suddenly dry. The mere thought of talking
to her father after all this time was unsettling. What would she
say? How would she feel? Mad because he abandoned her? Sorry
because her mother abandoned him? Happy just to be talking to him?
Or, worst of all, a volatile mix of all three?

Despite the fact that the living room had
warped into something completely different, Jaime’s room had been
left completely untouched. There wasn’t much there other than the
bit she’d left when she moved. Her bed, a few nasheed CDs, some
stuffed animals and an old trunk were still in their assigned
spots. She opened the trunk and found some old scarves she had
forgotten about.

“I looked everywhere for this!” Jaime said as
she pulled out a silky red one. She put them all in her overnight
bag and climbed into her old bed. It was comfortable like always,
but she still had trouble going to sleep. She felt horrible about
the fact that, at 24 years old, she was just meeting her mother.
The unusually hard pillow didn’t help either. She tried to fluff it
and noticed a hard object inside the case. It was a journal filled
with poetry, all in her mother’s handwriting. Jaime spent the next
hour learning the woman she had spent most of her life with.

“Over here!” Aliya said into the phone,
holding up her hand to show Jaime where they were sitting.

“Oh, I see you,” Jaime said. She hung up the
phone and made her way over to her friends. “Salaam, ladies. You
two look gorgeous.”

“You do, too. You sure you popped two babies
out of there?” Aliya asked, giving Jaime a big hug.

“You do look great,” Malikah added as she
stood up for her hug. It had been so long since they’d seen each
other.

“Look at you! You look like a CEO,” Jaime
said to Malikah, stepping back to take a good look. Malikah was
surprised at how genuinely happy Jaime seemed to see her. She was
used to their hugs feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

“Thanks, girl. I had to grow up sooner or
later,” Malikah said, looking down at her heather grey pants suit
and black patent leather stilettos.

“Are you coming from work?” Jaime asked. She
couldn’t think of any other reason for Malikah to be dressed
professionally on a Saturday afternoon.

“No, I had an interview this morning. I’m
going to law school,” Malikah said with a big smile.

“Law school?” Aliya and Jaime said in
unison.

“You finished undergrad?” Jaime asked. Last
she heard, Malikah was still unsure about what she wanted to
do.

“Yep. I walked this semester, but I don’t
officially graduate until the summer. I got sick of wasting time
with school. I had to buckle down and get serious. I could have
graduated a year ago if I had been more focused. That accident
really opened my eyes. Tomorrow isn’t promised.”

“I heard about your accident. What happened?
I thank Allah you’re alright.” Jaime said with concern.

Malikah let out an embarrassed laugh. “It’s a
long story. I’m just glad I’m okay. It’s unfortunate, but I think
it was necessary.

“You think your accident was necessary?”
Aliya asked.

“As strange as it sounds, yes. It really
helped me put things into perspective. I was so busy feeling sorry
for myself because things weren’t working out like I wanted. I was
unhappy with myself and jealous of you guys for being married. I
was so aware of everyone else’s blessings, but completely oblivious
to my own.”

“Wow. Well, I’m glad you were able to get
something so meaningful out of something so horrible,” Jaime said.
“What made you choose law school?”

“I figured I’ve spent most of my life arguing
with my mother. Why not try getting paid for it.” They all
laughed.

“Who’s talked to Mariam?” Malikah asked. She
didn’t expect Jaime to answer that question, but she did.

“Mariam’s doing well. She and Rashad are
doing a lot better.”

“You’ve talked to her?” Aliya asked in
disbelief.

“We talk every now and then. She and Rashad
came up for the twins’ birthday. It was nice,” Jaime said
nonchalantly, like she wasn’t delivering unbelievable news. Malikah
choked on the water she was in the middle of swallowing and Aliya
accidently dropped her chip in the salsa. They took a second to
collect themselves.

“Let me get this straight,” Aliya said after
fishing her chip out of the bowl. “Mariam, the same person that
tried to kill you, came to your house to see the children her
husband fathered?”