What We Learned Along the Way (39 page)

“Maybe it’s a little too early to be running
those kinds of thoughts through your head. Look at them. They’re
our babies. You know you don’t want them in somebody’s daycare,
sitting on a cold floor, playing with some broken down,
germ-infested toys, eating cheap, unhealthy snacks all day,” Joseph
said in his most dramatic voice.

“You’re right. Like I said, it was just a
thought.” Jaime closed the website and turned the computer off.

“Besides, you might not have to worry about
going back to work ever again,” he said with a smile. “I just got a
promotion.”

“You did? That’s wonderful.”

“Starting next Tuesday, I’ll be the head
accountant. I’ll be working on accounts for the whole department.
I’m on my way up, baby. I can feel it. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be
able to start my own accounting firm one day. Aliya and Langston
won’t be the only ones living large.”

“I’m so happy for you. News like that calls
for a special dinner.” While Jaime prepared her special lamb, she
thought about her mother. She had been doing a lot of that lately.
She felt so guilty that her mother had sacrificed her life and
dreams for her. She was scared she may end up doing the same. She
had no reason to rush back to work right now. Joseph was great and
had no problem with her pursuing her dreams (once she figured out
what they were). Her fear was that, like most other married women
she had ever met, a day would come when things weren’t so great and
when she had to make a choice between maintaining the “perfect
family” veneer and doing what truly made her happy.

She had always been taught that a Muslim
woman’s place was in the house, caring for her husband and
children. She learned that at an early age and had no trouble
accepting it. But now, after having talked to her divorced mother,
after having met this amazing woman that she didn’t even know
existed, Jaime was starting to feel that Muslim women, that women
everywhere, had another place. She still accepted the popular
notion that women had to maintain their families, but she was just
now realizing the importance of maintaining self. She didn’t want
to fall into that black hole of sacrificial motherhood. As they ate
her special dinner, she tried to avoid that hole.

“You know, I might want to start my own
business one day,” she told Joseph, testing the waters.

“That’s what I’m talking about. A business
woman. That’s a good idea. What kind of business?”

Jaime hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’m not
sure. Something good.”

“Well, I’d hope so.”

“You’re right about the daycare. Now isn’t
the best time for me to go back to work, but that time will come. I
have a degree, and I want to use it. I want to be able to chase my
dreams. One day.”

“Speaking of those, what are they? Joseph
asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m always talking about having my own
accounting firm. That’s my dream, to be able to help people and
small businesses with their finances. And I would do it right, too.
I wouldn’t steal their money and treat them badly like so many
other companies. I really want to help.” Jaime could see the
passion in Joseph’s eyes. “So, it’s obvious what my dream is, but I
still don’t know what yours is. I’ve never heard you talk about
anything you really want to do.” Jaime took a drink before she
spoke.

“I’m still working on that part. I’m not sure
what I want to do yet. I just know that one day I’m going to really
want to do something, and I hope you’re going to support me in
that.”

“Of course I will. I’m your husband. I’m
going to support you in everything.” Jaime felt better knowing that
her husband wouldn’t expect her to choose between her family and
herself, but now she was worried about the fact that she didn’t
really have a dream. As far back as Jaime could remember, Joseph
had always been good with numbers. Aliya had an artistic gift.
Mariam was a leader and all around genius, and Malikah had an
amazing singing voice (though you’d never know it). Everyone she
knew had an obvious gift, everyone except her. She was pretty good
at Quranic recitation, but she couldn’t really call that a gift.
That was nothing more than the result of 15 consecutive years of
private Arabic lessons. She didn’t have anything that was truly her
own, truly her God-given talent.

Jaime was expecting a visit from her mother,
so she knew who it was when the doorbell rang. She didn’t know,
however, that her mother wasn’t coming alone. Jaime gasped when she
opened the door, completely unprepared for the tall, familiar
figure.

“Daddy?” she finally managed. “Mom? Dad?
What?” Jaime couldn’t get her thoughts together. She hadn’t seen
her father in two years now.

“As salaam alaikum, Jaime,” her father said.
Jaime felt overwhelmed. She needed to sit down.

“I know this is a shock, honey,” her mother
said as she invited herself in. “Your father really wanted to talk
to you and he was scared you wouldn’t want to see him.” He stood in
the doorway.

“You can come in,” Jaime said. She had so
many thoughts running through her head and wasn’t sure which ones
she wanted to share.

“Stop that. Hair is for combing, not
pulling!” Joseph said to the kids as he walked through the front
door. He was so busy trying to get them to stop fighting that he
didn’t even notice Jaime’s parents on the sofa. “Whoo, they put me
through it today,” Joseph said as he knelt down to unhook their
belts and take them out of the double stroller. Jaime was happy to
see Joseph and the kids. Maybe they would break the tension in the
room.

“Joseph, dear, look who’s here. My parents,
both of them,” Jaime said as she went over to help with the
children. The two of them exchanged no words, but their eyes had a
conversation.

“Mr. Fareed,” Joseph said as he walked
towards him with an extended hand. He wasn’t sure about the
circumstances of this visit, but knew he had to be respectful.

“Joseph,” Shafik said as he ignored the hand
shake and embraced his son-in-law with a huge hug. “Thank you for
taking care of my daughter,” he said.

Jamilah took both of the children over to the
sofa and began to pull gifts from her bag. The children were
elated. They paid no attention to the tall, bearded stranger in
their home.

“Could I talk to you alone?” Shafik asked his
daughter. “It’s a nice day. Maybe we could take a walk,” he
suggested.

“I guess that’ll be okay.” Jaime walked with
her father in silence, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Nice neighborhood,” her father said, trying
to make small talk.

“It’s okay.”

“So, how far is the mosque?”

“About ten minutes away.”

“That’s good. Do you go often?” he asked.
Jaime was starting to get annoyed.

“Did you really come all this way to ask me
if I go to the mosque? Because if you did, you could have done that
on the phone and saved yourself a trip.” They stopped in front of a
small bakery at the end of Jaime’s block. The smell of the fresh
bread was pleasant.

“Jaime, I’m sorry for disowning you. I
shouldn’t have done that. When you told me you were pregnant, I
felt like I had failed as a father, like both of my children were
lost.”

“But, daddy, I wasn’t lost. I made a mistake
I pray I am forgiven for, but I wasn’t lost. I expected that you’d
be angry when I told you, so I wasn’t that shocked at your
response. I figured you just needed some time. I never imagined
that you’d actually disown me. The children are almost two years
old and they’ve never met their grandfather. I thought that you’d
at least come around for the children.” She wanted to say more, but
didn’t want to make herself cry.

“A mother’s job is to raise the children and
a father’s job is to protect them, physically and spiritually. When
we lost your sister, I swore by Allah that if he blessed us with
another child, I would do everything in my power to protect her. I
made a promise that I wouldn’t fail you like I did your sister. I
wasn’t able to fulfill that promise. And a man who does not keep
his word is no man at all. I couldn’t live with that!” he
protested. Jaime became embarrassed as some of the people sitting
outside the bakery began to take notice of their conversation. She
motioned for him to follow her over to a more remote spot. There,
they continued to talk.

“You couldn’t live with that, so you decided
to abandon your daughter and grandchildren? It is not your fault
that Hayyat died!” she said forcefully. “I’m sure you did
everything in your power to protect her, but death is the one thing
from which there is no protection. You can’t blame yourself for
that, and you can’t blame yourself for my mistakes! I’m an adult. I
make my own choices. I have to deal with the consequences.”

“You’re right. I realize that now. That’s why
I’m here. I’d like to start spending some time with the kids, and
you,” he added with a little smile.

“I’d like that.”

Malikah looked at her first semester grades
and smiled. It felt good to get A’s. And it wasn’t that hard. All
she did was actually apply herself. She felt bad about all the
years she’d wasted in school just skating by. She’d never do that
again. It took 23 years, but she was finally realizing that she was
more than just average. It was hard having a sister and friends
that were beautiful, smart, and all around amazing. She had always
felt like she was in their shadow, like she was the dud in the
group. When she was little, her friends always laughed at her for
crying while reading the book The Ugly Duckling. They couldn’t feel
it like she could.

“I thought that was you,” Jaylin said as he
sat down at the computer next to Malikah. “I usually don’t see too
many students around here once the semester is over.”

“That’s why I like it, not a lot of people
making noise and taking up all the good computers. Plus, it’s nice
to get away from the house sometimes,” she told him.

“That’s true.”

“So, what are you doing here? School should
be out for you, too.”

“School is never out for me, not while I’m
working on this PhD. Who knew I’d like teaching this much? My goal
is to become a tenured professor, but I’ve got a while until that
happens.”

“I didn’t know you were still in school. I
also didn’t know you wore regular clothes,” Malikah said, giving
her teacher a once-over.

“You didn’t know I wear regular clothes?
Well, what kind of clothes did you think I wear?” he asked with a
laugh. Malikah was a little embarrassed.

“You know what I mean. I’m just so used to
seeing you in dress clothes, slacks and button down shirts.” The
jeans and tennis shoes he had on made him look like a different
person.

“Those are my
trying-to-look-to-professional-so-I-can-get-some-respect clothes.
These are my hanging-out-on-a-Saturday-not-trying-to-impress-anyone
clothes. That’s the hard part about being a teacher. Your students
expect you to be in teacher mode all the time. I think you guys
forget that we’re people too. We want to relax and have fun just as
much as the next guy.”

“No, we don’t forget. We just don’t like to
think about it. No one likes to think about their teacher hanging
out and kicking it. It’s just weird,” Malikah admitted.

“What’s weird about it, especially with me?
It’s not like I’m one of those old, stuffy teachers. I’m young. I’m
cool. I’m barely older than you. That’s why I have to wear dress
clothes to class all the time, to distinguish myself from the
students.”

“Well, that’s true. You’re definitely not the
average teacher,” Malikah admitted.

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

“It is.”

“That’s good to hear. You know, I’ve only
been doing this for two years, so I’m still pretty new to this
whole teaching thing. Good to know someone thinks I measure
up.”

“Only two years? I thought you had way more
experience than that.”

“Malikah, how old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. Why?” she asked with a
suspicious eye.

“From the sound of it, you think I’m pretty
old. I just want to know.” Malikah took her time answering. She
didn’t want to say the wrong number. Too low and he’d know she was
lying. Too high and he’d be offended. She crossed her fingers and
settled on a number.

“32?” she said, unsure.

“I will be in three years. I’m 29. It’s
funny. When I was younger, I always wanted to look older. Now I’m
older and I wish I could look a little younger. Maybe it’s the
facial hair, he said, stroking his freshly groomed beard.

“No, I think it looks nice. I like facial
hair. It distinguishes the men from the boys. Now that I think
about it, every guy I’ve ever attempted to have a relationship with
has been clean shaven. Maybe that means something,” Malikah said,
reflecting on her past and completely forgetting about Jaylin.

“Earth to Malikah.” Jaylin waved his hand in
front of her face. “So, I guess you didn’t hear anything I just
said.”

“Sorry, I didn’t.”

“Well, you said every guy you’ve ever dated
has been clean shaven. Maybe you should try something a little
different.” Malikah laughed. She was embarrassed and flattered.
“Why don’t you come out with me tonight? I know a great restaurant
I think you’d like.”

“Tonight? I’m pretty busy. I don’t think I
can make it,” she said, trying to be polite.

“Come on. It’s Indian food.”

“Oh, I love Indian food, but really I can’t
make it. I actually need to be going now.” Malikah stood up and
gathered her things. “Can I get a rain check?”

“Sure. Any time.” He wrote his number on a
piece of paper and stuck it in the still open pocket of her bag.
“Give me a call sometime,” he said with a handsome smile.

“I told you he liked you!” Aliya said
triumphantly as they walked into Macy’s the following day. “I knew
it! I knew it! Why’d you turn him down?”