What We Learned Along the Way (25 page)

“Jaime, don’t take this the wrong way,
because I really do love raising the children and think of them as
my own, but Rashad is their birth father and it’s not exactly like
we’re living on easy street. I don’t think it’d be such a bad thing
for him to shell out some money to help. That’s the least he can
do.”

“If this is too much for you, all you have to
do is say so. That’s why I told you not to marry me in the first
place,” she said defensively. She folded her arms and stared out
the window.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t handle it. I just
wouldn’t be so quick to turn down money for the babies. That’s all
I’m saying.”

Jaime’s phone went off again. Another message
from Rashad:

I see you’re ignoring me and I guess I
deserve that. I really do want to help though. Please send me your
address and I will send you some money.

“He texted me again. He wants our address to
send some money.”

“You already know what I think,” Joseph
said.

“I know, I know. You think I should take the
money. I just don’t like him. He’s such a snake.”

“If you don’t like him, that’s even more of a
reason to take the money. Get him where it hurts, in the pockets.
Come on, it’s not going to hurt to let him help out a little. If
I’m fine with it, you should be too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaime
asked.

“It means that I am the man of the house; and
if I’m willing to humble myself enough to accept money from another
man to help with my family, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
The tone of his voice made his comment sound less like a suggestion
and more like a command. He had never been the type to speak
forcefully to his wife, or anyone else for that matter, but he
really was struggling to support his new family. He knew having a
wife and twins would cost money, but he had grossly underestimated
how much he would need to make everything work. Rashad pitching in
could really ease the strain.

“Well?” he said, waiting for her to send
Rashad the address. Finally, she did.

“I just don’t want him to think that this in
anyway makes up for anything,” she said after a few minutes of
silence.

Joseph didn’t respond. He was really annoyed
and didn’t want to say something he might regret, so he kept quiet
and continued to listen to the news report on his favorite talk
radio station.

The children had fallen asleep on the car
ride home. Jaime and Joseph were careful not to wake them as they
carried the babies into the house. When they first brought the
babies home, they hated how much they slept and wished they spent
more time awake. Now that some of the newness had worn off, they
had learned never to wake sleeping babies.

Back when they were first born, Jaime ordered
copies of the babies’ hospital pictures. Just before she left for
Dallas, she mailed them to her parents, hoping that, despite their
feelings for her, they would embrace the children.

Her father didn’t even want to open the
package when he saw it was from Jaime, but her mother couldn’t be
so harsh. Even though she was hurt by the news of her unmarried
daughter having a child, she still missed her and was starting to
rethink the disowning decision.

Once the emotion had subsided, she tried to
talk her husband into bringing their daughter back into their
lives, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She thought about making the
decision on her own to rekindle their relationship, but she knew
that might backfire in her face. All she wanted was to have her
family back, but she knew disobeying her husband’s wishes wasn’t
the way to do it.

Mr. Fareed was a man’s man, the type that
didn’t budge after putting his foot down. Though he meant well and
was a good husband overall, he was very controlling and not at all
keen on the idea of compromise. He was the man. He made the rules,
and that was all the compromise you were going to get from him.

Mrs. Fareed, on the other hand, was the exact
opposite. She was seemingly the perfect wife for an overbearing
man. She was a sweet, caring woman, but she was very passive and
quiet. She couldn’t imagine doing anything against her husband’s
wishes, so when he said there was to be no communication with
Jaime, there was none.

When the pictures showed up in the mail,
though, she couldn’t bring herself to keep quiet.

“We have to at least open it,” she pleaded.
“She’s our daughter.”

“I’ve told you a million times, Jamilah, I
have no more daughters.”

“But Shafik, you’re not being reasonable. You
can’t spend the rest of your life denying this. This is not the
Islamic way to handle the situation. You think you’ve never made a
mistake in your life?”

Mrs. Fareed couldn’t believe the words that
were coming out of her mouth. She had been married thirty years and
not once had she spoken back to her husband. It felt good to stand
up for herself, but she was also scared.

“Don’t turn this around on me. I wasn’t the
one to disgrace this family!” he roared.

“But you were the one to tear it apart, and
that’s a disgrace, too,” she roared back. She had never heard
herself sound this way, this intense.

They both looked surprised. He was surprised
that his wife had raised her voice at him. She was surprised that
she was still standing after having done it. He had never hit her
and wasn’t a violent man by any means, but she had also never
spoken to him that way either. She didn’t know what to expect.

To her surprise, he didn’t do much of
anything. He looked her in the eyes for a second, searching for the
quiet, submissive woman he’d known for so long. He picked up the
package and ripped it open without looking inside. He handed it to
his wife and stormed out of the room. Inside were four pictures of
two babies, a girl and a boy. There was a note scribbled on a
folded piece of paper inside the package:

As salaam alaikum,

I pray that one or both of you have
forgiven me enough to open this letter, but I fear these words may
quickly end up in some trashcan, forever unread. However, in the
hope that you are reading this, I will continue. As you can see,
there are two babies. I had no idea until I delivered that I was
having twins, a girl named Hayyat and a boy named Joseph. He is
named after the wonderful man that I have chosen to marry. I’m sure
you remember him from the mosque. The children are completely
healthy and are destined for big things, I can tell
already.

Allah continually speaks of his
mercifulness in the Quran and I know that you both are avid
readers. Please, do not ignore these parts. I cannot change what I
have done, just as you cannot change your past deeds. I beg of you
not to judge me by this one mistake, but instead by the solid
reputation I have built for myself over the past 23 years. We all
make mistakes, but true believers continue to serve the Most High
despite them.

As you can imagine, Houston is not the
most inviting place for us right now, so I will be moving to Dallas
shortly. Should you ever want to reach me or visit the children, my
soon-to-be address is below.

465 Heder Ln.

Apt 432

Dallas, Tx 75201

With Love,

Jaime

Reading the letter brought Mrs. Fareed to
tears. Knowing that she was a grandmother of twins and that her
daughter was married and moving to Dallas was all shocking, but
happy news. She wished she could see her daughter and talk to her
face to face.

Weeks and months went by and Jaime had
received no response. She assumed they never even read the letter,
so she was surprised to get a package in the mail from her mother
one Saturday afternoon. It said she was overjoyed to hear that the
babies were healthy and that she had moved on with her life. It
said she would love to visit the children one day, though she
didn’t know how likely that would be with Shafik being as stubborn
as he was. With the letter was included a check for one thousand
dollars. “What your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” read the
post script.

“Joseph!” Jaime yelled with excitement.
“Joseph!” she screamed again.

Saturday was Joseph’s only time to relax, so
he always slept in. Jaime’s screaming woke him abruptly. He thought
something was wrong. He ran into the living room in his boxers with
his fists in the air, ready to fight if need be.

“What happened? What’s going on?” he said,
still half asleep.

Jaime was bouncing up and down on the sofa
waving a piece of paper in her hand.

“Look at this!” she said as she jumped up to
show him the check. It took his eyes a few moments to focus.

“Whoa, where did you get that?”

“My mother! I sent her a letter and some
pictures of the babies a while back. She finally responded.”

“That’s great,” he said as he gave his wife a
huge hug. He knew how much her parents meant to her and loved to
see her so happy. “What about your father?”

“I guess it’s going to take a little more
time to win him over. Even if he never comes around, just knowing I
have my mother’s approval again is enough. I could scream!”

The change that Joseph noticed in Jaime after
that was like night and day. She was still sad about the situation
with Mariam and Rashad, but knowing that her mother wasn’t mad at
her anymore made everything more tolerable.

She prayed every day for Mariam and Rashad’s
marriage. Even though she couldn’t stand Rashad for lying to her
and Mariam, she knew the two of them loved each other, and she
didn’t want them getting a divorce. She hoped that one day Mariam
would be able to forgive her and know that she never meant for any
of this to happen.

Mariam couldn’t believe that she still had a
job. She had been gone from work for over two months, but they were
completely understanding. She didn’t tell them about her marital
problems, but she did tell them about her brother getting shot.
They allowed her to take as much time as she needed. Her boss,
Jackie, had a wayward younger brother, too. When she heard about
the shooting, she really felt for Mariam.

“Do what you have to do at home. We’ll be
here when you get back,” Jackie told her over the phone.

Because he had nowhere to stay in Houston,
Rashad had returned to Chicago the day after the hospital
confrontation. He went straight back to work and worked more
overtime that ever. Anything to get out of that empty apartment.
Everything about it made him miss Mariam. He would die to have her
annoy him in her usual ways. He hated actually having enough room
in the bed and not being pushed over into the corner. He hated
putting leftover food in the refrigerator and still finding it
there the next day. He hated getting up in the morning to take a
shower and not finding that all the hot water had already been
used. He hated that she wasn’t around.

He knew he was wrong for what he did and
didn’t deserve another chance. She had every right in the world to
never speak to him again, but he couldn’t let go that easily.
Mariam was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he
wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. After prepping himself
for the type of language he was sure he was about to hear, he
picked up his phone and called his wife. No answer. He called
again. No answer. He repeated this patter for a week, each time
losing more and more hope for their future. Finally, on the fourth
day of the second week of calling, she answered. He was so used to
the voicemail picking up that he almost hung up in her face.

“Baby, is that you?” he said in a pathetic
voice. There was silence for a moment.

“Yes,” she said.

“I know you’re mad and have every right to
be, but I just want to say—” He began to apologize, but she didn’t
let him finish.

“You want to say what? That you’re sorry?
That you didn’t mean to do it? That I should give you a second
chance because you love me so much?”

“Well, yes, and no,” he stuttered. “Yes, I’m
sorry, and I do love you so much, and no, you probably shouldn’t
give me another chance. I don’t deserve one. I don’t deserve you,
but I love you and never meant for this to happen,” he said as he
began to cry.

Mariam had never heard Rashad cry. It shocked
her, but it wasn’t enough. “What are you crying for? Did someone
cheat on you and have a baby with your best friend?” she said
harshly. “I don’t see what the hell you have to cry about. I’m the
one whose life was ruined.”

“Baby, please, just hear me out,” he managed.
“I can’t lose you.”

“Too late,” she said right before hanging up
and throwing the phone across the room.

The conversation had not gone at all like he
planned, but Rashad wasn’t deterred. He continued to call. After a
month of pleading, begging and apologizing, Rashad had convinced
Mariam to come home to discuss salvaging their relationship. He
didn’t know how he had done it, but he had.

Mariam didn’t tell her parents she was going
back to Chicago to try and work things out. She knew they would
think she was crazy. She even thought she was crazy. She had just
finished crying a river over the whole thing and now she was on her
way to give him a second chance. But what was she supposed to do,
get a divorce after only being married a few months? As hurt as she
was, she couldn’t give up like that. Besides, she couldn’t stay in
Houston forever. She had to get back to Chicago for work. There was
no way she was quitting her job. Even if she and Rashad decided
never to see each other again, she was determined to find a way to
keep her dream job.

It was a lot easier to make the decision
knowing Jihad was doing so well. His recovery was amazing. Not only
had he come out of his coma, he was working hard in physical
therapy and might have a chance of walking again. The doctors
couldn’t explain how quickly he was improving.