Wearing a long sleeved white blouse that hung to her knees and a pair of loose bell-bottom black pants that looked like a skirt from a distance, Sarah struggled to keep up with her sister’s quick stride along the park’s path Sunday morning. It was a few minutes past eight, and they had been walking for twenty minutes. The sun was a glowing bulb in the cloudless sky, but its heat was already making Sarah sticky with sweat. She could hardly keep up with Kate, who talked and walked with such ease that Sarah felt a tinge of jealousy as she herself struggled to keep her breathing under control.
“And so he talks to her,” Kate said, bent arms moving at her sides, pony tail swinging behind her head, her breaths audible between her quickened words that matched her stride. Kate wore a fitting sleeveless white T-shirt and shorts that reminded Sarah of volleyball players. Kate’s thin gold necklace stuck to the skin under her neck. Next to her sister, Sarah grew acutely aware of her black pull-on khimaar that made her feel like a student at a private Muslim school. She noticed other joggers and walkers staring at them, and she wondered if they were accustomed to seeing Muslims. “And she says no.” Kate laughed. “That was a no-brainer, but I guess I had my hopes up.”
“Then it’s over?” Sarah’s words sounded closer to panting, and she wondered how long she’d last holding a conversation on this trail.
“Looks like it.”
Sarah couldn’t help feeling relieved. She was uncomfortable with Kate’s interest in the Syrian man in the first place. And right then, the whole idea of polygamy made her stomach churn. At least the brother had enough sense to ask his first wife’s permission. “Well, at least that’s behind you.”
“Yeah, but it was going so well.”
“Kate, he’s married. How could you even consider it?”
“We were talking about marriage, that’s how.”
“But you still haven’t admitted to having a Creator,” Sarah joked. “How are you supposed to marry a Muslim?”
“Hey,” Kate said, glancing to her sister with a grin, “not so fast. Who said I haven’t changed my mind?”
“Changed your mind?” Sarah laughed. “You talk about it like it’s a decision.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“No. You have a Creator. That’s already been decided.”
“I mean believing in Him.”
Sarah shrugged, feeling the aching turn into sharp pains in her legs. “I guess that is a decision, at least for now.”
“But I was really close to converting.”
Sarah laughed out loud, momentarily forgetting how easily a voice carried outside. “I believe that.”
“I’m serious.”
“Then I’m proud of you.” There was a hint of mocking in her voice.
“What’s so funny about me believing in the obvious?”
Sarah considered it. “Nothing, except it’s strange timing.”
“You found God through your husband.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “But that’s different.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, and Sarah could hear her breaths.
“I think it’s strange though,” Kate said.
“What?”
“That she said no.”
Sarah creased her forehead and looked at Kate, but Kate narrowed her eyes in thought as she walked, never losing her stride. “Why?”
“I guess I thought it was like a religious commandment or something.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and laughed. “You wish.”
“No, I’m serious.”
She was silent as she walked and panted. “You couldn’t be farther off the mark.”
“But I read it,” Kate said, glancing at Sarah. “It commands men to do it.”
Sarah was beginning to grow irritated. “It may sound like a command, but it’s not one.”
Her sister shrugged. “I’m just saying that’s how I took it.”
“Did you read the whole verse?”
“Yes.”
“And you still think it’s a command?”
“Not a command like he has to do it.”
Sarah chuckled. “That’s what a command is.”
Kate shook her head and walked without speaking for a while.
Sarah was relieved when her sister stopped to shake out her legs and stretch. Sarah placed her hands on her hips and breathed audibly with her mouth open. She didn’t even have the energy to stretch her muscles.
“So how long are you here?” Kate asked on their way back to the car. She had removed her belt pouch and placed the strap over her shoulder like a purse after removing her car keys.
Sarah lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know.”
Kate was silent until she unlocked the car. “Is everything okay with you and Ismael?”
Sarah gathered her eyebrows as she opened her door. “What makes you ask that?”
Kate climbed inside and leaned forward to insert the key into the ignition before shutting her door. “You usually have a pretty tight schedule.”
“I miss you,” Sarah said, closing her own door.
Kate laughed. “Now, that’s more comical than me believing in God.”
“Why do you find that funny?”
She grinned at Sarah as she turned her head and placed her hand on the back of Sarah’s seat as she backed out of her parking space. “Because for two decades, we’ve been pretty much strangers, and all of a sudden you call and want an open-ended visit. And a week later you’re on my doorstep with more luggage than I’d take on summer vacation.”
Sarah chuckled. “Now, that’s an extreme observation. We haven’t been strangers.”
“Ha, ha, ha. And don’t change the subject.”
She began to feel uncomfortable. “Let’s just say, I’m suffering from an early empty nest syndrome and need the company.”
“Aminah’s gone too?”
“Good as.”
Kate laughed as she checked both directions of traffic before making a left turn onto the street. “Then I’d think you’d be home with her spending quality time.”
Sarah was silent, unsure what to say, but she maintained her smile. “Would it satisfy your curiosity if I made up a story and said I’m divorced and all yours?”
Kate’s eyes grew wide and she glanced at Sarah. “You’re getting a divorce?”
Sarah laughed, her heart pounding. “I never said that.”
“But you are.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re not denying it either.”
“I’m not divorced, Kate.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
Sarah exhaled in relief.
“I think you’re getting one.”
She turned to Kate as if she had been slapped, and Kate met her gaze with a triumphant grin.
“So I’m right.”
Sarah felt her head start to pound. “You’re wrong, Kate. Dead wrong.”
“Sarah,” Kate said with a laugh, “you were never a good liar.” There was a long pause, and Sarah knew her sister was still smiling, but she refused to look at her. She focused her attention on staring out the side window. “Remember when you were sneaking off to meet Ismael? It was written all over your face. And that stupid line you gave about talking to colored students to learn about their life.” She laughed, shaking her head. “We may have been strangers for the last twenty years, Sarah, but we’re still sisters. Besides, I’ve been through a zillion relationships, and I can read ‘man trouble’ all over your face.”
Sarah felt herself growing upset, and the familiar anxiety that she had sought to escape was eating at her. There really was nowhere to run. Besides, how could she run from herself?
“Sooo,” Kate said with so much self-assurance that it irritated Sarah, “you want to talk about it?”
“This is what I was afraid of,” Alika said, sighing and placing her glass of water on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Sarah’s house disrupting mine.”
“Alika,” Ismael said in a plea, “I didn’t want to mention it, but I didn’t feel comfortable keeping something like this from you.”
Alika sighed, searching for the right words. “That’s something you can feel comfortable keeping from me.”
“But how? It’s eating me up. I have to talk to someone.”
“Then find a male friend. But not me.”
She saw his confused expression, and she decided to approach the issue differently. “Ismael, if we had been married for five or ten years, or even one, then maybe I can be someone you can confide in about her. But we’re not even really married yet. Our parting is as simple as you saying, ‘I divorce you.’ We wouldn’t even have one month. I’d be like a bad date, gone the next day.”
Ismael appeared surprised that she knew this injunction.
“I talked to Nusaybah and my wali,” she said to satisfy his curiosity. “So I know what we’re doing. It’s like a trial period, no risk if it doesn’t work. About the only thing we can do now is what we’re doing today, have some privacy while we talk.”
Ismael listened.
“But know this, Ismael. This is not a trial for me. To me, we’re married. I already know what it means to sacrifice. I already know what it means to feel torn. I saw my mother, and I saw my stepmother, so I knew what I was getting into. So I don’t worry about what Sarah’s going through. I sympathize, but I don’t worry.”
She paused. “And I don’t really worry about what you’re going through.”
“But this is—”
She put a finger up to stop him. “But I do worry about how you handle it. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but right now, I’m more worried about me than her. If I have to worry about Sarah, then you’re not doing your job, and it makes me think I was wrong about you.”
He creased his forehead. “Wrong about me?”
“Yes. I thought you could handle this.”
“Alika, understand, I’m not saying I can’t handle this. I’m just—”
“You don’t have to say it outright, Ismael. Everything you’re doing, everything you’re saying is saying it for you.” She paused. “You’re practically apologizing between every word. I already know you’re turning over your options. Sarah or Alika. Sarah or Alika. And if my hunch is right, then we can end this now. If you really think Sarah’s actions mean you have to choose, then I misjudged you.”
“My wife left me, Alika. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Alika sighed. “Ismael, if I didn’t believe in Allah, I’d ask you to leave right now and never come back after what you just said.”
Ismael’s face grew more contorted in confusion. “What?”
“Listen to yourself, Ismael. You’re blaming me for your wife’s actions.”
“What?” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “Don’t you even care what all this is causing?”
Alika stared at Ismael as if seeing him for the first time. He really didn’t understand. “Do I care?” She shook her head, wanting to laugh out loud but found no humor in it. “Ismael, listen to me, please,” she said in a calm that betrayed the frustration she was feeling right then. “If you want to know if I care, of course I care, if for no other reason than whatever she’s going through, you’re going through, which means, as your wife, I hurt for you. But I’m hurting right now, too, Ismael. I’m scared right now. Sarah’s not the only one who wants to cut and run. I do too sometimes.”
He looked surprised and hurt. “You never mentioned that.”
“That’s my point, Ismael. What good would it do? You married me to build a relationship, and it’s not a good idea to put all my insecurities on the table right now. We’re still getting to know each other, and it won’t do anything but prevent you from getting to know me. Now’s the time to build, to learn each other, talk, laugh, have a good time.”
She went on, “I’m no fool. I know Sarah is having a difficult time, and it hurts me to think of that, especially as I know that most men would drop the new woman in a second to keep their first. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t see that as bad per se, as long as it’s what Allah guided you to. Sometimes we do have to choose, and I can’t blame a man for going with what he knows and has already built than what he doesn’t know and only hopes to build. Stick to what you know. But there’s one problem.” She paused. “You don’t always know, and most times women come back on their own. If you keep running after her, she’ll keep running. And where does that leave me? But if you stand still, after pleading with her, begging her to stay, saying how much you love her, and doing everything you can to make it work, well, then, Ismael, you’ve done your job. Even you said she said no matter what happens, she’s finished with the marriage. If that’s not a sign, then I don’t know what is. You don’t even have to choose. She does. I’m here. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means a lot, Alika. It’s just that I don’t want to lose her.”
“And you want to lose me?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You don’t have to. I already know the answer. But you’re willing to let me go if it means holding on to her. And as much as I hate that knowledge, I do understand. And I can’t explain to you how much that hurts, Ismael. These past weeks feel like a lifetime. I can’t imagine any second wife making it. But who do I talk to if you want to talk about Sarah all day? Who cries for me if you cry for Sarah on my couch? Who is there to comfort me, Ismael, when you make me feel like I’m a trial period on a vacation package?”
His gaze was on his hands now. “I’m sorry, Alika. I never thought about it like that. I just feel torn.”
“That’s what polygamy is. And you have to find a way to feel torn without disrupting my house or hers. Otherwise, all you are is a tennis ball, and Sarah and I are on opposite sides of the net. And I’d only be throwing back at her what she threw at me. I don’t want a tennis match, Ismael. I want a marriage.”
“But how do I do that?”
“For one, leave her alone for now. Let her heal. Don’t even call. It’s what she expects. I know that’s hard for you, but remember she’s the one who got on a plane, Ismael. If she had at least stayed, I’d say something different. Let her find whatever she’s looking for. If two and a half months pass, and she still isn’t home, then go and fight for her. But not now. And definitely not here in my home.”
They were silent for sometime.
“But how do I know she’ll come back?”
“You don’t. And even if you never met me, you still wouldn’t know. Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But I feel like I did.”
“Sarah is going through a lot right now. Any woman would be, including me. I saw the same in my mother. And she didn’t even have the Qur’an to turn to.” She paused and shook her head. “Honestly, Ismael, the only way you can fight this is to do what you already did, show her how much you love her until she can’t possibly live without you.”
He laughed. “But she already left.”
Alika shook her head. “I met her, Ismael. Sarah’s a strong woman.” She paused. “But more importantly, she’s intelligent and pious. Those two put together make it almost impossible for her to leave someone like you. She’s seen for twenty-six years what I saw in you when we first met. And I can’t imagine someone like her giving that up.”
He took a deep breath and sighed. “I can.”
There was long pause before Alika spoke. “I used to think my father was heartless for holding his ground and staying with his second wife while my mother cried and begged him to not go back to her.” She bowed her head in deep thought. “Now I know he was just wise.”
“But don’t you ever feel guilty?” Alika asked Nusaybah once everyone had gone home after class.
Nusaybah shook her head from where she sat next to Alika in the sitting room. “Never.”
“I do. After he left this morning, I was thinking maybe I should be more worried about Sarah.”
“You didn’t marry Sarah. You married him.”
“I know, but—”
“Is Sarah worried about you?”
Alika laughed. “It doesn’t look like it.”
“Then take a lesson from her.”
Alika creased her forehead as she looked at Nusaybah.
“Sarah’s worried about the same thing you were worried about this morning, her relationship with Ismael, and she’s right for that.”
“But—”
“It makes no difference if you’re his first or second wife, Alika. You have no reason to feel guilty, and you have no obligation to make amends between them. You need to worry about you and Ismael. You never get a second first year.”
Alika laughed. “You make it sound like we’ll make it to October.”
“You will if you hold your ground, inshaAllaah.”
“I never imagined that I’d face this as a Muslim.”
Nusaybah smiled. “Muslims are people, Alika, no different from anyone else.”
Alika grinned and shook her head. “After your class, I feel like there’s nothing like Islam on the earth.”
“I didn’t say Islam is no different. I said Muslims.”
She was silent as she reflected on what Nusaybah had said. “But after everything I’ve learned, I feel like Muslims are a lot different from others.”
“Knowledgeable Muslims are, Alika. And no one else. And those are few.”
“But I haven’t even been Muslim a year, and I feel a lot different from others.”
Nusaybah paused to gather her thoughts. “What I’m saying is, at the bare minimum, Alika, you have only one difference between the Muslim and others, their belief in Allah alone. This belief is shown through praying the five prayers. Now, in the Hereafter, this difference is a great one, the difference between eternal torment and ultimate entry into Paradise. The Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wasallam, said that the one who leaves prayer falls into kufr. In other words, without prayer, there is no Islam.”
Alika listened, her forehead creased.
“But in this life, if a person is only Muslim through Tawheed and prayer, you will see little difference between them and others. This is the case of people without knowledge, and most of us are ignorant, na’oodhu billaah. And ignorance can be thought of as two types, ignorance through having not learned or understood specific concepts in the religion, or ignorance through weakness in eemaan. If a person hasn’t learned or understood, it only needs to be taught or explained, which is, in general, easy. If a person’s ignorance is due to weak faith, it’s manifested through many things. Pride, insincerity, sinfulness, the desire for praise, or what have you. This is another matter. The problem is, the second type of ignorance is a hindrance in seeking knowledge or even understanding Islam correctly. And even if a person seeks knowledge and understands Islam, she’s not protected from the second type of ignorance. In fact, combating it is a lifetime struggle, even for a scholar or student of knowledge. One of the most difficult types of ignorance to combat is insincerity. Attaining ikhlaas is Islam itself, hence Sooratul-Ikhlaas in the Qur’an.”
“So most Muslims are ignorant through weakness?”
“My point is, we are all struggling, Alika. After prophets and messengers, the sincere scholar is on the highest level of Islam in this world. And to even attain scholarship itself, let alone sincerity in it, is a life-long endeavor and very rare.”
Nusaybah knew that what she was saying was confusing to Alika, but she was willing to take that risk. Nusaybah imagined not telling her these things would be more confusing. Too many Muslims gave up on Islam because of the actions of Muslims, even Muslims born into the faith. It was important for Alika to understand that Islam was only one thing, the establishment of a personal relationship between yourself and your Creator for the sake of your soul.
“What I’m saying is,” Nusaybah said, “you’ll need to hold on to your Islam and be patient with the Muslims, including yourself. Right now, your focus should be only Tawheed and prayer, which I hope the class is helping you with.”
“But what about my marriage?”
She smiled. “I know everything I said sounds like a riddle, but if you go home and reflect on it, Allah will make it clear. But this is your marriage, Alika, Tawheed and prayer. And if you focus on these things, it will clarify not only your own confusion but the confusion of those around you.”
Alika pursed her lips then shook her head, her gaze on her hands for a moment. “Why should Muslims, of all people, make me feel ashamed of my marriage? That’s not fair.”
Nusaybah wanted to hold Alika like she would her own daughter and tell her it would be okay. But she knew this was only the beginning of the painful contradictions Alika would see in the world around her, a world of contradictions that did not discriminate based on faith. Polygamy was only one part of the rubble in the collateral damage caused by the abandonment of the Sunnah. And no Muslim was free from blame, not even Nusaybah herself. Perhaps she did not have the disease of hating Allah’s allowance of plural marriage, but did she guard her tongue? Did she truly respect her husband? Was she truly grateful to Allah?
Inevitably, every Muslim contributed to the degenerate state of the ummah although, naturally, some were more guilty than others. Even if no outward action contradicted pure Islam, what of pride because of that? She had watched the self-destruction of her second husband due to pride, and next to pride, struggling with polygamy was a small matter, at least if it was merely a struggle and not the result of pride itself.
There was so much Nusaybah wanted to say, but she tried to find a way to summarize everything that was on her mind. “Polygamy is a difficult thing for any woman to accept,” she said, measuring her words, “but no one has a right to make you feel ashamed for being the second wife, or third, or fourth. The day you signed the contract was the day you became his wife, and that’s all that matters.”
“Then why do I feel like I just committed a sin?”
“Because you’re human, Alika, and you’re American.”
“But I’m Muslim, Nusaybah. Shouldn’t that count for something?”
“And it does, Alika. As soon as you recited the shahaadah, you were guaranteed certain rights from your Muslim sisters and brothers. I just don’t want you to get discouraged when they forget that. Make excuses for them. Ask Allah to forgive them. And believe me, Alika, it makes things better for you. If nothing else, it teaches you that your focus is on the Hereafter, not this world. And the believers are few, Alika, but the Muslims are many.”
Alika sighed, shaking her head, and Nusaybah wanted to cry for the pain she saw in her sister’s eyes.
“But I left this, Nusaybah. I left that world when I became Muslim.”
Nusaybah shook her head. “No, Alika. The world you’re speaking of is here.” She placed her right palm on the left side of her chest. “If you realize that, nothing will get you down except what goes on in there.”
“But how am I supposed to do that? I can’t live in a bubble.”
“I know how you feel, ukhtee. Believe me, I know.” Nusaybah feared it would be too much for Alika if she shared her own experiences as a co-wife. Even Nusaybah found it difficult to be patient through the loneliness she sometimes felt, this in addition to the emotional tug-of-war of polygyny itself.
If it wasn’t for her beautician license, Nusaybah doubted she’d ever see the inside of most sisters’ homes. Most never said it outright, but Nusaybah knew why she was rarely invited to events. She was the one who prepared sisters for their parties, not the one who was invited. She was rarely invited to even a wedding or walimah. One of her most hurtful memories was when Nusaybah had received a call from a sister she had known for years and who was to be married that week. The sister, after exchanging small talk, frankly asked Nusaybah not to come to her wedding, or the party that would follow. The sister apologized, of course, then said, “But you understand.”
“It’s the guilt that bothers me the most,” Alika said.
“You can’t continue like that though. The guilt comes from growing up here. We’re taught that monogamy is natural and good, and polygamy is unnatural and shameful. It’s considered illegal here, and, to some, sinful. But it’s only natural that Muslims follow this thinking.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t call that natural.”
“I didn’t mean natural in that sense,” Nusaybah said. “I meant that we’re human, and naturally, if there’s something that’s hard for us, we avoid it, and sometimes that means we cross the line. Even in our purest nature, Alika, women are jealous. Imagine how hard it would be for you if Ismael took a third wife.”
Alika nodded, understanding. “I see what you’re saying.”
“Don’t let it upset you,” Nusaybah said. “Life is too short.”
She went on, “But understand that living in this society makes it difficult for all women to distinguish between their natural feminine jealousy, which is how Allah created them, and hating polygamy itself, which is a sin.”
“I think the difference is obvious.”
“It’s not obvious to everyone though. There are some things that are obvious to you that aren’t to me, and vice versa. That’s why we need each other, all of us. If you suspect that a sister hates polygamy, don’t hate her. Then you’re no better.”
Alika nodded.
“And know that there are some sisters who really don’t have a problem with it, but they just cannot handle it as a reality in their lives. And we have to accept that, like someone will have to accept the same in us on a different issue.”
Nusaybah added, “But you should know that there will be others who think of polygamy like a disease, and although this is not right, you should be patient with them too.”
Alika gathered her eyebrows. “A disease?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“They won’t invite you to their homes. Or they’ll try to prevent, or even sabotage, any meaningful relationship between your husband and theirs.”
Alika’s eyes widened. “Muslims do that?”
Nusaybah sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”
She added, “This is a very dangerous feeling they’re struggling with, but you can’t let it get to you. We’re all human, Alika. And we’re all in need of Allah’s mercy, even you and me.”
“I thought you couldn’t be Muslim without accepting polygamy.”
“You can’t.”
“Then are these people really Muslim?”
“Yes, they are, Alika. Only when a person consciously hates something from the religion, or when they express open disagreement with something from the Qur’an or Sunnah, does a person leave Islam.”
“But their actions show open disagreement.”
“They believe in the Qur’an and Sunnah though, ukhtee.”
“But polygamy is in the Qur’an.”
“Alika, there’s more than polygamy in the Qur’an, and we’re fooling ourselves if we think we’ve mastered it all. Allah is Merciful. He holds us accountable based on our intentions. The sisters who ostracize you don’t intend to disagree with Allah’s revelation or even hate what Allah revealed.”
Alika shook her head. “But then why treat it like it’s a sin?”
Nusaybah sighed. “That’s just one of the many contradictions you’ll see in Muslims, and even within yourself. None of us are free from hypocrisy. But your focus is on your soul, not theirs.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“And it is, with the help of Allah. But only when your focus is within. The Muslim is the mirror of another Muslim, this is what the Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wasallam, taught. So when you see someone struggle with any part of Islam, then fear for yourself, and them. But never judge them or think you’re better, even as you hate what you see.”
They were silent as Alika pondered what Nusaybah had said.
“But shouldn’t this be normal?” Alika asked, still searching for answers. “I mean, everyone knows women outnumber men.”
Nusaybah drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Yes, this is true. And I hear what you’re saying. But marriage is such a selfish pursuit that you can’t expect people to look out for anyone but themselves.”
“But isn’t that wrong?” Alika narrowed her eyes. “What happened to do unto others as you would have others do unto you?”
“Yes,” Nusaybah agreed. “The Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wasallam, taught us that we don’t truly believe until we love for our brother or sister what we love for ourselves.”
“That’s what I mean. What happened to basic things like that?”
“Ukhtee, it’s only basic in theory. But living it, that’s a completely different story. For all of us.”
“But even if you’re not perfect,” Alika said, “I understand that. But just logically speaking, how can you expect to expunge the entire world of polygamy?”
Nusaybah laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s doing that.”
“That’s what it seems like.”
“It only seems like that because you’re on the other side. But most people are just trying to survive day to day. And they react on instinct when they think something will disrupt that. You’d be surprised how little attention polygamy actually gets.”
Alika exhaled. “All I want to understand is how everyone’s supposed to get married if it’s so taboo to even mention.”
“I know what you mean,” Nusaybah said. “But I think in this world, polygamy is going to become a fact of life for Muslims, like it or not. The good men are few, and the women are many, and it’s only getting worse as we approach the Day of Judgment. The reality is, times are becoming such that, if you want to get married at all, it’s in your best interest to at least ask Allah to open your heart to it. And this is also true if you want to stay married. But we can’t be so naïve as to believe every woman should be open to it, or, worse, every Muslim man should do it. I can’t imagine the nightmare women would live if every Muslim man tried to do it, even if we narrow it down to the ones with monetary means. It’s not a free-for-all institution, and, believe me, you don’t want it to be. Most Muslim men don’t have the spiritual or emotional sense to handle more than one woman, despite their polygamous nature. And the world’s a better place if they realize this before they go and ruin women’s lives in the process.”
Alika was silent. “I don’t know, Nusaybah. I don’t think Ismael can handle this.”
“That’s not your decision, Alika.”
“But all he talks about is Sarah.”
“This is still new to him. It’s only natural.”
“And it’s new to me too.”
“So you’ll learn together, bi’idhnillaah.”
“But when is it my turn?”
“Whenever he’s next to you.”
“Even if all he’s worried about is Sarah? I don’t have the energy for that.”
“You’re going to have to have the energy for it, Alika. That’s his wife. You’re all in this together.”
“What about me?”
“If he’s talking to you, Alika, it is about you. Don’t forget that. If you do, you’re ruining your chance to make a place for yourself in his heart.”
“I feel like I’m invisible.”
“Turn him away when he needs to talk, and you will be invisible.”
“But it hurts.”
“Let it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Be a woman, Alika. Women have made lemonade for centuries with the lemons in their lives. Don’t be any different.”
“But when is our chance to build our own relationship if I’m saving his other one?”
“Everything you do or say now is either laying a brick for your relationship or removing it. Right now, Sarah can remove fifty bricks from hers and still have a castle. But what about you, Alika? You don’t even have a foundation.”
Alika rolled her eyes to the ceiling in realization of her mistake. “O Allah, what have I done?”
“It’s not too late, Alika. Take this opportunity to be there for him. Listen to him. Let him cry on your shoulder if you have to. But you’re right. This isn’t about Sarah, so you shouldn’t focus on her. But you don’t do that by preventing the mention of her. You make his life so wonderful that he has no choice but to move on, even if only for a second each day. So make him laugh.” Nusaybah grinned. “And have some fun. But right now, no matter how hard it is, never complain or have a tantrum. You don’t have enough bricks for that.”
She nodded, but Nusaybah could tell Alika was not convinced of her ability to pull it off.
“I know this is a lot to digest, but this is something you should do, even if you aren’t married to a married man.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m getting more than I bargained for?”
Nusaybah grinned. “Welcome to life, Alika. This is what it means to keep your eyes on the prize.”
Alika laughed. “We shall overcome?”
“Someday,” Nusaybah finished with a smile. “InshaAllaah.”
Kate sat next to Sarah on the porch swing that was on her unfinished wood balcony that overlooked her backyard. Kate’s hair was still wet from taking a shower, as was Sarah’s although the only evidence for Kate’s sister was water stains bleeding through the light gray head cover that Sarah now wore. Beneath them, the grass glistened under the sun, and they could see the remnants of a garden that Kate had been too busy to tend. But neither Kate nor Sarah was enjoying the view. Kate was staring distantly beyond the trees that stood like tired soldiers surrounding her yard, some using the fence to rest their leafy arms that had grown more than they had expected or could maintain. Sarah was nervously rubbing the base of her ring finger although no ring was there, and her eyes held tears that Sarah was too stubborn to let loose in front of her little sister. After all these years, Sarah still imagined Kate saw her as immortal. Or perhaps she imagined Kate would get a negative impression of Muslims if she showed through more than her words that she was scared. But all Kate could think about right then was how, regardless of age or faith, humans were all joined by the painful and confusing reality of life, the center of which was the mysterious relationship between man and woman.
For a second, Kate glanced at her sister, unable to keep from feeling sorry for her. But she couldn’t tell Sarah this because Sarah’s mind was so befuddled that she would imagine Kate was looking down on her relationship or religion. But neither was true. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Sarah had everything a person could hope for in this grim life, and she couldn’t see it. She was too absorbed in self-pity to see what was right in front of her eyes. In reality, Sarah had no dilemma, a challenge maybe, but no dilemma. What Kate would give to switch places with her sister right then.
Kate had heard people talk about their relationship problems, and rarely did she have the luxury of being an advisor to someone, especially a married woman. After all, who would confide in her? But it struck her how, regardless of the problem, it was as if women were reverted back to little children in trying to figure out basic sandbox problems. But Kate couldn’t blame Sarah. Had she been blessed with everything Sarah had, she imagined she’d take her husband and children for granted too. Perhaps in the end, everyone was the same. The more you have, the more you think you deserve. The less you have, the less it takes to make you grateful.
“Sarah,” Kate said with a hesitant grin. “You weren’t the kindest sister in the world, you know that?”
It took a second for Sarah to lift her head and meet Kate with a tired look in her eyes. A smile tugged at one side of her mouth. “Yes, I remember.”
“So consider the reason I say what I will twofold. One, I love you despite all that. And two, you were always my role model in the kindness department.”
Sarah’s tired eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to read in Kate’s eyes what she was getting at. Kate grinned.
“I’ve only one thing to say to you, big sister.”
Sarah pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to her ring finger again, where she rubbed it.
“I think you’re the blindest and dumbest person I’ve ever met.”
Sarah’s head jerked up to meet Kate’s eyes. There was a look of hurt and disbelief in her eyes, and her eyes looked like they would overflow any second.
“To prove that reason number one for saying that is truer than number two, we’re going to take a little field trip.”
In the quiet of her home, Dr. Faith Anderson-Blackman felt her selfish cruelty. It would have been better for her to remain the psychologist when Sarah had sought her advice. She didn’t know how to be a friend. What had fifty-two years of life taught her if she were going to throw it away in a desperate attempt to save herself?
She had foolishly called Sarah a week after their meeting to let her know that she would be asking Teddy to discontinue his relationship with Aminah. She had apologized and explained her perverted logic, so perverted that she could barely remember it right then, except that it all came down to her fear that Ron would do the same to her as Ismael had done to Sarah.
At that moment, Faith thought of the streams of patients that had sat opposite her and how she would be amazed at the similarity of thinking among women. Women seemed to always be in fight or flight mode when it came to a problem. But what struck her as odd was that the women who really needed to run didn’t, and the ones who really needed to stay ran.
That she had contributed to the latter category made her fear that she had, once again, cheated herself out of a precious moment in life. This time she cheated someone else in the process.
Faith’s only solace was that she never followed through in her plan to talk to Teddy, and for now, she could count her blessings. But not before finding Sarah somehow and telling her she should stay with Ismael and revel in the beauty of a loving relationship that was more akin to a phenomenon than a fact of married life.