\u201c\u2026So give me a call, Aliyah. I think this may be the one.\u201d Aliyah rolled her eyes as she deleted the voicemail message then pressed the \u201cend call\u201d button on her cell phone. Her uncle had converted to Islam when she was in high school and had been influential in her own decision to become Muslim, and for that, she would always be grateful. Her parents practically disowned her after she left the church, and her uncle Benjamin was the closest thing to a father she’d had since accepting Islam in college. But for the past eight months Aliyah was becoming increasingly annoyed with her uncle. She appreciated his enthusiasm in fulfilling his role as her wali, but she wasn’t ready to get married.<\/p>\n
But Aliyah couldn’t tell her uncle that. Benjamin was wrestling a guilty conscience more than he was feeding his enthusiasm as her marriage guardian. It wasn’t his fault that Aliyah was divorced. She wished he could understand that. If there was anyone to blame for her marriage falling apart, it was Aliyah herself. She was the one who’d eagerly introduced Matthew to her uncle and begged him to support the marriage. She’d foolishly believed that if she did everything right, everything would turn out all right.<\/p>\n
Matthew was one of the good guys, Aliyah couldn’t deny that. But she should have been less na\u00efve about the nuances of the spiritual growth of a new Muslim. Matthew had been Muslim only a year when they’d met, and Aliyah had been Muslim for eight. It wasn’t until they were living together as husband and wife that the seven years between their Islamic experiences felt like light years.<\/p>\n
Aliyah collapsed on the couch of the living room and tossed the cell phone on a cushion next to her. She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. She needed a new job. She liked teaching algebra and computer science at the local college, and she would always be indebted to her best friend, Deanna, for asking her husband to put in a good word for her. And it didn’t hurt that the masjid was only a five-minute drive from the campus, so she was able to relax in the women’s musallaa during her lunch break and planning periods if she didn’t have any student appointments. But the money simply was not enough.<\/p>\n
The shrilling of the house phone sent Aliyah’s heart racing, and she sat up quickly and opened her eyes. Aliyah hadn’t realized she had fallen asleep. The house was dark except for a glow of light coming from the kitchen. The phone shrilled again, and Aliyah groaned as she pushed herself off the couch and walked over to where the cordless sat on a wall table near the front door.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGirl, open the door,\u201d Deanna’s agitated voice said.<\/p>\n
Aliyah hung up without replying, and true to character, Deanna was pounding on the front door before Aliyah could even unbolt it and pull it open.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you deaf?\u201d Deanna said as she stepped into the foyer carrying a half-full paper grocery bag. \u201cI’ve been standing outside that door for at least ten minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI’m sorry, Deeja,\u201d Aliyah said as she closed the door and locked it. \u201cI was knocked out.\u201d<\/p>\n
Deanna rolled her eyes as she handed the paper bag to Aliyah. \u201cPut the ice cream in the freezer before it melts, and you might want to heat up the gyros in the microwave.\u201d<\/p>\n
Aliyah’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face as she peered into the bag. \u201cYou brought gyros?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, against my better judgment. You know that bread has too many carbs.\u201d1<\/p>\n
\u201cI love you, Deeja!\u201d Aliyah sang out as she made her way to the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, yeah, whatever. Where’s the remote?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt’s probably on the couch somewhere,\u201d Aliyah called out from the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cI saw his other wife,\u201d Deanna said when Aliyah returned to the living room with their gyros on a glass serving plate, a stack of paper napkins next to them.<\/p>\n
Aliyah felt nauseated all of a sudden. \u201cHow do you know it was her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Deanna pointed the remote toward the television to turn down the volume. \u201cIt was her.\u201d She reached for a gyro then folded her legs under her on the couch as she often did to get comfortable. \u201cShe was with Matt.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMay Allah bless their marriage,\u201d Aliyah muttered as she sat down next to Deanna and lifted her gyro from the plate.<\/p>\n
Deanna’s hand froze inches from her mouth as she glared at Aliyah. \u201cNo, Ally. That is not the correct response to this news.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDeanna Janice Bivens,\u201d Aliyah said, purposefully using the authoritative tone that Deanna’s mother often used when she referred to Deanna by her full name, \u201cyes it is the correct response. Now let’s eat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what your problem is?\u201d Deanna said thoughtfully, setting down her gyro. \u201cYou’re too nice. That’s why people run all over you. I’m not saying you have to wish harm on that girl, but you don’t have to pray for her marriage. She stole your husband, for goodness sake.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe didn’t steal my husband.\u201d Aliyah took a generous bite of her gyro, her eyes on the television screen as she savored the taste of soft bread, seasoned lamb, raw onions, and cream sauce.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I’m sorry. I forgot,\u201d Deanna said sarcastically. \u201cYou gave him to her.\u201d She picked up her gyro again and took a bite, a disturbed expression on her face as she stared at the TV.<\/p>\n