We Started Out As Friends...coming soon

2012-11-05T21:57:00.001-05:00

The Paperback is now available! Also the kindle version is available at:
We Started Out as Friends
Enjoy, and please remember to leave a review!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

2012-08-07T04:42:00.002-04:00

Fatima breezed through her studying. Her first exam was biology, her favourite subject. She kept good notes and always reviewed after classes, so preparing for exams was less difficult. After lunch she put the girls down for a nap, with the intention of doing the same herself.
"Can we go see Papa?" Masuma asked before her head hit the pillow.
"After you wake up," Fatima replied. She was truly grateful for the loving and supportive extended family that she had. There was no way she could get through each day without them. When they all woke up from their naps, they went across the street to see Ali’s parents.
“There she is.” Mama’s friend, Nargis, was visiting and her face lit up when she saw Fatima. She was a nurse and loved anything to do with babies. It was her son, Abbas, that was getting married the following week and the two women were discussing the final details of the wedding.

"Come darling, sit." Nargis motioned to a cushioned chair next to her. Mama and Nargis sat in the sunroom, surrounded by unassembled wedding favours.
"As-salaam alaikum, Auntie." Fatima kissed Nargis on both cheeks.
Nargis belonged to a large Khoja community in the city. The Khoja’s were an ethnic community of Indians, some of whom had travelled to and settled in East Africa. She was uncommonly kind and welcoming. She had become fast friends of the Abatis soon after their arrival in Canada. She was thrilled that Ali had agreed to recite Quran at Abbas’s wedding.
"His voice just moves me. He must be the best reciter in the province, maybe the country,"Nargis said.
Fatima squeezed Mama’s hand. "The best male reciter."
"Of course, of course," Nargis agreed. "So Fatima, how have you been doing?"

Fatima knew that the question was about more than her pregnancy. The lawsuit was all over the news. She was surprised reporters were not outside her house. Maybe photographers were lurking in the bushes. Anyway, she couldn’t worry about that. So far they had received enormous support from friends and neighbours. Everyone seemed to believe in Ali’s innocence. If anyone didn’t, they kept it to themselves. Fatima’s phone had been ringing almost non-stop. She often turned the ringer off as a result. Call after call came from Ali’s present and former teammates, coaches and managers. They all expressed their support. Ali had told her he would need to do a press conference soon. She remembered the conversation well.

“I guess I’ll be expected to be there.” She had dreaded the idea of being in the spotlight.
"Absolutely not," Ali had said.
"Why? I know in cases like these it usually looks better if the wife stands by her husband’s side." Fatima mentally recalled countless cases of women, smiling or stoic, standing by the sides of their husbands while the men faced some scandal or another. She always wondered how the women could do it.
"I don’t care how things look. I'll do what's best for my family. I’m not going to parade you in front of cameras just so I look innocent." Fatima had been through enough, he had said. He wouldn’t dream of putting her through such a circus. Papa had already warned him about succumbing to the pressure of press agents and managers. Fortunately, everyone knew Ali was his own man, and no one expected to be able to browbeat him into doing anything.
Fatima turned to Nargis.
"I’m fine. It’s Ali’s last week on the road. He has three more games, and then he’s home until the fall."
"Perfect timing.‛"Nargis smiled and raised her eyebrows.
"It is. I couldn’t have planned it better myself," Fatima added, as she reached for one of Nargis’s sweets. She always travelled with some kind of treat. Children loved her because of it. Today she had almond baklava with maple cappuccino syrup.
"Do you miss being out there?" Nargis asked.
"Yes and no. I love watching him play, and I always watch the games on TV when I’m home, but these days I would rather avoid the crowd. And I certainly don’t miss hanging out with the other wives. They’re a piece of work."
"So when are you due?"
"Next Friday." Fatima bit into her baklava.
"The day of the wedding?" Nargis looked from Fatima to Mama and back to Fatima. "How do you plan to swing that?"
"Well, the other kids were past their due date, so I just figure I’ll keep going until I can’t."
"You are amazing. I would be sitting at home with my feet up from the beginning of eight months! Are you ready for four children?"
"I guess I'll find out." Fatima smiled and her eyes sparkled. She really loved these last days of pregnancy. She never felt anxious to give birth. She enjoyed each of her final moments to the fullest.

Mama interjected, "She doesn’t have a thing to worry about. We are all ready and waiting to take care of her and those four babies."
"Do you know what the baby will be?" Nargis asked.
"No, I didn’t want to find out." Fatima slipped a quick look at Mama, who didn’t say a word.
"Whatever it is you just be grateful. A healthy baby is the most important. When you have worked in the hospital as long as I have and seen all that I have you understand that." Nargis was a neonatal nurse, so Fatima understood exactly what she meant.
"Have you been reading Surah Yusuf?" Nargis continued.
"Every day." It was said that reciting this chapter in the Quran by a pregnant mother would make her baby pious, intelligent and beautiful.
"What about names?"
"Ali is going to choose this time. He hasn’t told me what he’s thinking about." Fatima adjusted herself on the chair.
Nargis’s eyes widened. "I would never trust my husband to pick my child’s name! I don’t even let him pick which restaurant to eat at!" she exclaimed.
All three women laughed. "I trust him," Fatima replied.
Mama smiled silently.
Being with these two women made Fatima miss her own mother even more. Dana was currently in Malaysia working on two buildings that had recently been discovered in northern Kedah state. She wasn’t due home until September. Fatima had been fighting the desire to call her; she couldn’t bring herself to broach the topic at hand. She just wished Dana could be with her. Fatima knew if her mother could just hold her, everything would feel right. "Oh Mom, where are you?" Fatima whispered under her breath as she looked out on the backyard.

The Abati house had a similar set-up as Fatima’s, except for the huge sunroom that the Abatis spent so much time in, and the magnificent backyard. Mama’s garden was the envy of the entire neighbourhood. The previous summer they had put in a small pond with a waterfall. In the morning or late evening it was the most soothing sound to hear the trickling water. Mama had even added a few tropical trees to her nursery. Sometimes, if Ali and Fatima had the opportunity to get out at night, they would come and sit in the backyard to enjoy the beauty.
"Ok ladies, let’s get these favours wrapped," Nargis said. The women spent the rest of the afternoon filling and wrapping monogrammed mint tins for the wedding guests, chatting, laughing and, of course, eating. Fatima had invited Rachel to meet her at the house after work and Mama was looking forward to seeing her and spending time with her.

The hours flew by quickly. By the time Rachel rang the doorbell Fatima needed to stretch her legs. When she opened the door Rachel rushed past her to greet Mama and Papa, who had recently emerged from his study, and then quickly excused herself. Fatima was still standing at the doorway with her hand on the door knob when Rachel returned.
"What was that?" Fatima asked referring to Rachel’s whirl-wind entrance. "Where are Joshua and Jonah?"
"Come, come." Rachel closed the front door and pulled Fatima into Papa’s study.
"What is it, Rachel?"
"Oh, are we allowed to be in here?" Rachel asked as she looked around the room.
"It’s fine, but what has gotten into you?" Rachel just hopped from one leg to the other. "Here Rachel, sit down." Fatima guided her into the large arm chair.
"Nice chair." She twirled around.
"It’s Ali’s."
"He has his own chair in his father’s study? Phew, they love their son."
"Rachel, the news?"
"It’s Jamie! He’s been arrested," she whispered forcefully.
"How do you know?"
"I have sources, too." Rachel had a few friends who were good at unearthing information and kept her updated on important community happenings.

"Ok, what was he arrested for?" Fatima pulled up another chair and sat beside Rachel.
"Illegal possession and misuse of a firearm!"
"Surprise, surprise. He’s a thug," Fatima said matter-of-factly.
"There’s more."
"Rachel, will you just spill it?"
"He escaped from police custody!"
"What?! How is that possible?" Fatima hit the arms of her chair.
"I told you he has connections." Rachel’s face was blank, but her eyes were moving. It was clear she had more on her mind.
"Ok, so what are you thinking?"
"A man with nothing to lose has nothing to lose."Fatima was getting very frustrated with Rachel’s communication. "The point, Rachel?"
"What if he goes off and comes here or something?‛"
"You think he will?" Fatima folded one arm across her chest and put the opposite hand under her chin.
"No, I don’t think so. The neighbourhood is pretty tight." Rachel was starting to sound erratic.
"What do you mean?" Fatima was having trouble keeping up with her.
"Oh, you don’t know?" Rachel put one hand on her hip. "There are security people all over the neighbourhood."
"You’re kidding?" Fatima was astonished.
"Did you doubt? Don’t tell me I know your husband better than you do? I’m sure Ali has at least three men watching your house alone."
"I had no idea."
"Didn’t you wonder why the street was so quiet? Normally, you would expect the press to be hounding you guys, under the circumstances."
"This is really heavy." Fatima dropped her hands in her lap.
"Yes, it is." Rachel said, as much to herself as to Fatima.
"Ok Rachel, everything is going to be fine. I have no idea what Jamie is up to, but Allah is greater than all these things. All we have to do is keep praying and take action. It’s time, Rachel."

"I don’t know where he is. What am I supposed to do?" Rachel answered, with attitude.
"Talk to Shawn and see what steps you need to take to protect yourself and your sons. You’re afraid of Jamie and with good reason, I might add. You have enough on him to get a restraining order. Then you have to file for sole custody. It’s pretty simple." Fatima waited for Rachel’s response.
"Ok, ok," Rachel agreed, but the look in her eyes said something else.
Fatima stood up and pulled Rachel to her feet. "Let’s get some food into you. We’ll get started after dinner. Where are the boys?"
"They went into the backyard. I’ll go get them." Rachel left the room, slipped outside and around the side of the house along the cobblestone pathway to the backyard.

Rachel, Fatima and their children had dinner with the Abatis in the sunroom and stayed until the sun set. Papa lit the large candles that stood on tall stands in each corner. The room was flooded with hues of red, orange and gold. The children wrestled and rode on Papa’s back, jumping and rolling around until they were exhausted. By the time they were ready to leave, Rachel was feeling much better. Fatima had spoken to Shawn, who had agreed to meet with them the next evening. Finally, something was taking shape.
"So Rachel, I’ll see you in the morning?" Fatima knew she was pushing it, but she hoped Rachel would be open to another prayer session.
"Sure, I’ll be there."
"Great. See you then."

They went to their own homes and turned in for the evening. Naomi was at a church retreat and was scheduled to return on Thursday night. Rachel spent the rest of the evening cleaning and organizing her house. She figured she could focus on one area of the house each day until her mother returned. Knowing that Naomi was expecting guests on Friday, Rachel started thinking about what food she could prepare for them. With Rachel’s help, Naomi would have nothing to do when she returned. By the time Rachel turned in, well after midnight, she found Jonah in her bed. "Nightmares again?" she whispered to herself. "What am I going to do, Lord? What am I going to do?"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

2012-08-07T04:14:00.002-04:00

The next morning Fatima woke up and looked around as she stretched in her bed. She had intentionally chosen a masculine style for the room. Dark furniture draped with solid colour fabrics brought a strong and comforting energy to the space. She usually used duvets and bedding in solid colours, plaids or stripes.
Ali spent so much time travelling that when he wasn’t she wanted him to feel at home. She wanted him to feel completely connected to their room and at peace when he was there. She never encouraged the children to sleep with them. Even when they were babies, they always slept in their own rooms. Ali did feel sorry for them sometimes and allow them in on rare occasions. Fatima only permitted them to hang out on the mornings that the family had time to lounge.
She did have some feminine markers in the room as well. The custom blinds were covered with sheer curtains, and on her side of the bed was a soft fluffy rug. She had a couch decorated with large soft cushions. Salt lamps sat on either side of the bed and she always had candles and aromatherapy oils nearby. It was her favourite room in the house.
The events of last night seemed to be a world away. Ali had not wanted to discuss the confrontation with Rachel when they returned home. He just wanted to put it all aside for the time being. Fatima had agreed to keep her focus on her family when she was in her home and leave the outside world beyond her front door.
She was not going to let the events of the evening rob her of precious time. It was Ali’s last night home and no one was going to ruin it. This approach was, sometimes, the only way to keep her sanity and ensure that her and her husband could outride the inevitable storms and challenges that would arise in their relationship.
As she stretched she looked up at the writing on the ceiling.

You are...
The Answer to my Prayers...
The Fulfillment of my Dreams...
The Direction of my Destiny...

Ali had written it for her, but it reflected her feelings exactly. It had always been such a comfort to her whether he was home or not, but somehow today it made her feel sad. Things were not the same anymore. She had not mentioned Ali’s recent trip out of town, but it was on her mind. She wondered when she would learn about what had been so urgent. She would not bring it up now, but in time he would have to discuss it with her.
Ali would be leaving this morning and not returning until Fri-day. It was always hard to say good-bye, but this time would be more difficult. She really felt like she needed him to be with her right now. When he was with her she didn’t need to think. His presence would block out all her negative thoughts, fears and worries. When he was gone, all she did was think.
She missed the days of travelling with him, and often won-dered if she had had the children too early. Ali had wanted to wait. They were young, he had said, and had a lot of time, but Fatima had been so eager to try and have a son. After having Masuma and facing the realities of parenting, she decided waiting would be a good idea. And then dreams of a boy resurfaced, and along came the twins.

She didn’t even want to think about who this baby might be. She had refused to find out the sex of the baby, although the suspense sometimes was unbearable.
She leaned over to look at the table beside her bed. She had al-ready found four of the papers that Ali had placed around the house. The first one had the number 7 written on it. The other three papers had one letter each, an n and two e’s. She had placed the four papers in a line on her bedside table. She still needed to find the others to decode the message. Ali had promised her a special gift if she found all of them before he returned.
Fatima had her week fully planned. She would study in the mornings and then take her daughters out in the afternoon. She had several people she wanted to visit with before her period of confinement started, and she wanted to look for outfits for Rachel’s boys, in case Rachel decided to send them to the wedding the following week. She would be with Naomi and her church sisters on Friday, and then Ali would be home.

She glanced at her clock. She wasn’t sure if she should expect Rachel this morning, but she would be ready just in case.
At precisely seven thirty, the doorbell rang. Rachel held up a bouquet of flowers as a peace offering."Where did you find flowers at this time of the morning?" Fa-tima asked, as she graciously accepted the gift.
"Oh, I have my ways." Rachel was dressed in a blue, grey and black plaid skirt, a black sweater and a black leather jacket. She wore her hair curly and looked much younger as a result. "I need to talk to you about last night."
"Come in."
When they were both seated in the living room, Rachel started speaking quickly. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you, Fatima. I only came over because I had a really messed up day, and I needed to talk to Ali, that’s all. You know he has this different way of looking at things. I just needed to hear what he had to say. I would never do anything to harm you or your family." Rachel looked Fatima directly in the eyes. Rachel continued, "And I am so sorry about that stupid comment I made about you not trusting Ali. That was so mean and disgusting of me. We both know he is perfectly trustworthy, and you would never have any reason to doubt him. I’m so sorry."
"Never say never." Fatima placed the flowers on the table in front of her.
"Don’t say that, Fatima. You guys are perfect, and I can’t even handle anything less than that today, so don’t even go there." Rachel finally took a breath."
"Oh sure, I wouldn’t want to upset you now, would I?" Fatima continued, "So tell me, what happened that had you so upset?"
Rachel told Fatima about the meeting with Brigitte, about Jamie following her and Ali, and Jamie’s plans to take the boys."
"So you told Ali all this?"
"No, not exactly."
"Either you did or you didn’t," Fatima pressed.
"I didn’t." Rachel looked down.
"Why not?" Fatima was shocked and slightly confused."
"I don’t know. I just felt kind of overwhelmed. What will Ali do when he finds out?" Rachel glanced in Fatima’s direction.
"Well, I don’t know, but he needs to know that he’s being stalked, don’t you think?" Fatima’s eyes were wide.
"You’re going to tell him?" Rachel chewed the inside of her lip.
"Of course, I’m going to tell him. What if he’s in danger? How could you keep this from him? What did you come over for, if not to tell him this?"
"I don’t know. I was just babbling, really." Rachel looked down at her lap, folding and unfolding a corner of her jacket.
Fatima furrowed her brow and assessed Rachel. She believed that Rachel’s apology was sincere, but she did notice that Rachel suddenly had trouble meeting her gaze.
Fatima didn’t have to ask why. She knew Rachel too well. And she would never forget the words that Rachel had said last night.

"...you have everything. All I wanted was a few minutes."
Anyway, that wasn’t important now. This news about Jamie was going to have to take precedence.
"Don’t you think it’s about time you talked to the police, or at least saw a lawyer? You have to do something, Rachel. Shawn is really great, maybe you should talk to him."
"I don’t know." Rachel struggled with this issue. She was so afraid of making waves.
"What are you going to do? Wait until Jamie really goes berserk around here? You have two little boys and your mother to think about. It’s not just about you. This is not going away. You have to meet it head on, or else it will blow up in your face. We’re all here for you. You can do this."
"I’m not like you, Fatima. I can’t."
"Yes, you can, and you have to. Things are getting out of hand and you have to take action. I know you’re scared. You just move forward anyway. We’re going to support you. We have so many resources. You can get the best lawyers. You can have all kinds of security and protection. There is no limit to what we would do for you. You just have to say the word. But it has to come from you."
Silence fell between them as Rachel soaked in Fatima’s words. She knew Fatima was right and she agreed it was time for her to do something now. She had to. The first step was just the hardest.
"I went to see my dad."
Fatima eyes misted. "That’s wonderful. How was it?"
"Good. It was really good.‛ Rachel dabbed at the tears that were gathering in her eyes.
"You should go more often. Regularly. Maybe it will give you the strength you need right now."
Rachel nodded then quickly changed the subject. "So you’re going to tell Ali?"
"Absolutely."
"Ok, I’m going to think about everything you said. Really, I’m going to think about it."
"Good. Anyway, time is passing. Let’s get started." Fatima reached for the dua books she had put on the table.

First they started with Hadith e Kisa /The Story of the Cloak. Fatima explained briefly to Rachel. "One of the things I love about this hadith is the way the family members speak to each other. Imam Ali(as) doesn’t call his wife, ‘Fatima’, he calls her ‘Daughter of the Prophet,’ and she, in turn, doesn’t refer to him simply as ‘Ali,’ she uses his full title, ‘Commander of the Faithful.’
"When they speak to their children, it is with so much love and tenderness, it reminds us that those we are supposed to be most respectful to are the members of our household and not the outside people, the way we usually are.
"It is said that whenever this hadith is read, the angels come down and encircle the people, praying for their forgiveness until the gathering disperses and Allah answers requests made at that time. So, I really love this."
The two ladies spent the remainder of their hour together reading and listening to various duas and Quran. Fatima and Rachel both made their own specific supplications, and when Rachel left to go to work, Fatima prepared to give Ali the news.

“I know.”
"You know?‛"Fatima sat on the lounge chair in her bedroom. "How did you know, and when were you going to tell me?"
"I didn’t want to worry you." Ali walked into his closet to get his clothes.
"The more things you keep from me the more worried I get." Fatima raised her voice slightly to make sure he heard her.
He stepped back through the doorway. "I just found out last night. Shawn has a private investigator working on my case and this is what he came up with so far."
"That was fast."
"He has good men." Ali disappeared into the closet again.
"Ali, could you just sit down for a second and talk to me?" Fatima hated when he behaved like this.

Ali returned to the room, stopped getting dressed and sat on the bed facing Fatima.
"What else do you need to tell me?" Fatima asked.
"It’s just what Rachel said. Jamie is following us in an attempt to stir up trouble. When we have more evidence then we can take action."
"What kind of action?"
"Don’t worry, Fatima."
"This is my family, and all you can say is, ‘don’t worry?’ Do you think that’s reasonable? Now, you’re leaving. How do you expect me to feel?"
"You’ll be safe when I’m away. I’ve made sure of it," Ali said.
"Oh, when were you going to clue me in to what’s going on?"
"I tell you what I think you need to know," he replied without changing his facial expression.
"How manly of you." She was deliberately sarcastic, knowing how much he hated it.
"I am what I am, Fatima. I’m not going to come to you with every little problem, to stress you out, when you can’t do anything about it anyway."
"I just want to feel included. If something involves me or the family, I just want to know. It’s important to me. And how do you know I can’t do anything? I have a brain. I have ideas too."
Ali glanced at the clock. "Ok, what do you want to know?"
"Don’t talk to me like that, Ali. I’m trying to communicate with you, here." Ali could be so warm at times and then suddenly shift to being so distant, often with no warning. "Well, did the investigation find anything else? Related to your case, I mean." She could not bring herself to say the word 'paternity.'
"Well, I studied the photos, and it looks like my pictures were cropped from pictures that we took last summer, when we went on vacation,"Ali said.
"How would someone have had access to them?"
"I had emailed them to my cousins, so who knows. If someone got into my email then they could get it, I guess."
"What about the emails?" Fatima questioned.

"They were all sent between midnight and 2 a.m. You know I’m always sleeping at that time."
She knew that was true. She had never known Ali to stay up much past 10 pm. He would sleep even earlier if he could. He always woke up early, extremely early, but never before 2 a.m.
"Well, someone knows your schedule. What about the receipts?" Fatima continued.
"The dates are right. I was at those hotels." Ali stood and walked around the room. "I don’t know how anyone got a hold of them or if they are even the originals. The team is still working on that."
"I see. Anything else?"
"No, that’s about it for now."
So he is still being tight-lipped about his trip, Fatima thought. She wanted to ask about the paternity test, but the words could not pass her lips. As if Ali could read her mind he said, "I’m still waiting for Shawn to let me know which company we’re going to do the DNA test with."
Fatima nodded. "Ok, I just wish you felt comfortable to share with me. You shouldn’t be dealing with this by yourself." She was trying to be supportive, although she really wished she could jump somewhere into the future to a time when this would no longer matter.

Ali recalled the way Fatima’s mood had changed when he had reminded her that Shawn was coming over to discuss the case. He also recalled the look on her face when Shawn had left the house that day. How could he keep bringing up an issue that he knew disturbed her so much?
"I can handle it." He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head.

"I know you can handle it, Ali. That’s not the point. It makes me feel like you don’t trust me or value me when you don’t tell me things. I’m your wife. I want to be there for you."
"You are. You’re there in the way that I need; it just may not be what you think I need."
"What about what I need?"

Ali squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head back. When he brought it forward his eyes were heavy. "I’m trying, Fatima. I am trying."
"Ok, ok, let’s leave it for now. Thanks for telling me everything. I really appreciate it." Fatima smiled as she thought about his impending departure. "Anyway, I want you to leave happy."
Ali smiled back. "Impossible."

After Ali and Fatima had fed and dressed the children, they said their goodbyes and Ali departed amidst a torrent of hugs and kisses from the little ladies of his house. He then crossed the street to say goodbye to his parents. Fatima turned in to start studying. She had a full day ahead of her, but she knew that no matter how busy she was, Friday could not arrive soon enough

2012-08-07T01:47:00.002-04:00

Many of my readers have been asking when I will post more of the novel. I am preparing to publish this month, but I decided that I can post another chapter or two. Please leave a comment if you are reading and would like a little more before the entire book is ready for sale. Enjoy, and thank-you for reading!

Coollace - ShoeAccessories: I taught Dallas Right from Left in 2 days, love it...

2012-05-23T00:08:00.001-04:00

Coollace - ShoeAccessories: I taught Dallas Right from Left in 2 days, love it...: I remember Dante's teacher trying different methods to teach him Right and Left when he was 3. Once I created the R and L coollace, I test...

Update.

2012-04-02T01:04:00.000-04:00

Some of my readers have been asking about the book sales. I am currently reviewing the PROOF copy of the novel, We Started Out as Friends.
Look for book sales this Spring/Summer. Keep checking for updates. If you would like to be notified when the book is available for sale, send an email to saatulloch@hotmail.com, or become a follower of this blog to receive all notifications. Thank-you for reading and leaving comments. Keep following to see what happens to Rachel, Fatima and Ali...

The 10 o'clock Angel Train

2011-01-26T23:42:00.001-05:00

~~~Looking for WE STARTED OUT AS FRIENDS? Please go to the very first post(2009) to read the first chapters.~~~

I just finished listening to the book Happy for No Reason, by Marci Shimoff. It was a delightful book, full of personal case studies as well as scientific studies about researched and proven ways to live happier lives. I received a wealth of very practical information. One of the things I loved the most was the instruction to sleep before ten, preferably by nine. The author said if you are feeling depressed, sad or out of sorts you should go to bed early for 3 days in a row and enjoy the positive effects of this happiness habit. She calls it "The 10 o'clock Angel Train." I love it! So simple, yet it is something that most of us take for granted. I know my days always start and proceed much better when I have had enough rest. What about you?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

2011-01-05T01:40:00.002-05:00

The next morning Fatima woke up and looked around as she stretched in her bed. She had intentionally chosen a masculine style for the room. Dark furniture draped with solid colour fabrics brought a strong manly energy to the space. She also usually used duvets and bedding in solid colours, plaids or stripes.
Ali spent so much time travelling that when he wasn’t she wanted him to feel at home. She wanted him to feel completely connected to this room and at peace when he was here. She never encouraged the children to sleep with them, not even when they were babies. They always slept in their rooms. Ali did feel sorry for them sometimes and allow them in on rare occasions. Fatima only permitted them to hang out on the mornings that the family had time to lounge.
She did have some feminine markers in the room as well.The custom blinds were covered with sheer curtains, and on her side of the bed was a soft fluffy rug. She had a couch decorated with large soft cushions. Salt lamps sat on either side of the bed and she always had candles and aromatherapy oils nearby. It was her favourite room in the house.
The events of the last night seemed to be a world away. Ali had not wanted to discuss it when they came home. He just wanted to put it all aside for the time being. Fatima had agreed to keep her focus on her family when she was in her home and leave the outside world beyond her front door.
She was not going to let the events of the evening rob her of precious time. It was Ali’s last night home and no one was going to ruin it. This approach was, sometimes, the only way to keep her sanity and ensure that her and her husband could outride the in-evitable storms and challenges that would arise in their relationship.
As she stretched she looked up at the writing on the ceiling.

You are...
The Answer to my Prayers...
The Fulfillment of my Dreams...
The Direction of my Destiny...

Ali had written it for her, but it reflected her feelings exactly. It had always been such a comfort to her whether he was home or not, but somehow today it made her feel sad. Things were not the same anymore. She had not mentioned Ali’s recent trip out of town, but it was on her mind. She wondered when she would learn about what had been so urgent. She would not bring it up now, but in time he would have to discuss it with her.
Ali would be leaving this morning and not returning until Fri-day. It was always hard to say good-bye, but this time would be more difficult. She really felt like she needed him to be with her right now. When he was with her she didn’t need to think. His presence would block out all her negative thoughts, fears and wor-ries. When he was gone all she did was think.
She missed the days of travelling with him and often won-dered if she had had the children too early. Ali had wanted to wait. They were young, he had said, and had a lot of time but Fatima had been so eager to try and have a son. After having Masuma and facing the realities of parenting, she decided waiting would be a good idea. And then dreams of a boy resurfaced, and along came the twins.
She didn’t even want to think about what this baby might be. She had refused to find out the sex of the baby although the sus-pense sometimes was unbearable.
She leaned over to look at the table beside her bed. She had already found four of the papers that Ali had placed around the house. The first one had the number 7 written on it. The other three papers had one letter each, an n and two e’s. She had placed the four papers in a line on her bedside table. She still needed to find the others to decode the message. Ali had promised her a special gift if she found all of them before he returned.
Fatima had her week fulling planned. She would study in the mornings and then take her daughters out in the afternoon. She had several people she wanted to visit with before her period of con-finement started and she wanted to look for outfits for Rachel’s boys in case Rachel decided to send them to the wedding next week. She would be with Naomi and her church sisters on Friday and then Ali would be home.
She glanced at her clock. She wasn’t sure if she should expect Ra-chel this morning, but she would be ready just in case.

At precisely seven thirty the door bell rang. It was Rachel. She held up a bouquet of flowers as a peace offering.
“How did you find flowers at this time of the morning?” Fa-tima asked as she graciously accepted the gift.
“Oh, I have my ways.”
Rachel came in and closed the door behind her. She was wearing a blue, grey and black plaid skirt, a black sweater and a black leather jacket. She wore her hair curly and looked much younger as a re-sult. “I need to talk to you about last night.”
“Come in.”
When they were both seated in the living room Rachel started speaking. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you, Fati-ma. I only came over because I had a really messed up day and I needed to talk to Ali, that’s all. You know he has this different way of looking at things. I just needed to hear what he had to say. I would never do anything to harm you or your family.” Rachel looked Fatima directly in the eyes.
Rachel continued, “And I am so sorry about that stupid com-ment I made about you not trusting Ali. That was so mean and disgusting of me. We both know he is perfectly trustworthy and you would never have any reason to doubt him. I’m so sorry.”
“Never say never.” Fatima placed the flowers on the table in front of her.
“Don’t say that Fatima.You guys are perfect and I can’t even handle anything less than that today, so don’t even go there.” Ra-chel finally took a breath.
“Oh sure, I wouldn’t want to upset you now, would I?” Fati-ma continued, “So tell me, what happened that had you so upset?”
Rachel told Fatima about the meeting with Brigitte, about Ja-mie following her and Ali and Jamie’s plans to take the boys.
“So you told Ali all this?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Either you did or you didn’t,” Fatima pressed.
“I didn’t.” Rachel looked down.
“Why not?” Fatima was shocked and slightly confused.
“I don’t know, I just felt kind of overwhelmed. What will Ali do when he finds out?” Rachel glanced in Fatima’s direction.
“Well, I don’t know, but he needs to know that he’s being stalked, don’t you think?” Fatima’s eyes were wide.
“You’re going to tell him?” Rachel chewed the inside of her lip.
“Of course I’m going to tell him. What if he’s in danger? How could you keep this from him? What did you come over for if not to tell him this?”
“I don’t know. I was just babbling, really.” Rachel looked down at her lap, folding and unfolding a corner of her jacket.
Fatima furrowed her brow and assessed Rachel. She believed that Rachel’s apology was sincere but she did notice that Rachel suddenly had trouble meeting her gaze. She knew Rachel too well. Rachel didn’t have to tell her why she had come over. It was obvious. And Fatima would never forget the words Rachel had said last night.‘You have everything. I just wanted a few minutes.’ Anyway, that wasn’t important now. This news about Jamie was going to have to take precedence.
“Don’t you think it’s about time you talked to the police, or at least saw a lawyer? You have to do something, Rachel. Shawn is really great, maybe you should talk to him.”
“I don’t know.” Rachel struggled with this issue. She was so afraid of making waves.
“What are you going to do? Wait until Jamie really goes ber-serk around here? You have two little boys, Rachel; and your mom. It’s not just about you.”
Rachel knew Fatima was right.
“This is not going to go away. You have to meet it head on or else it is going to blow up in your face. We’re all here for you, you can do this.”
“I’m not like you Fatima, I can’t.”
“Yes you can and you have to. Things are getting out of hand and you have to take action. I know you’re scared. You just move forward anyway. We’re going to support you. We have so many resources. You can get the best lawyers. You can have all kinds of security and protection. There is no limit to what we would do for you.You just have to say the word. But it has to come from you.”
Silence fell between them as Rachel soaked in Fatima’s words. She knew Fatima was right and she agreed it was time for her to do something now. She had to. The first step was just the hardest.
“I went to see my dad.”
Fatima eyes misted. “That’s wonderful. How was it?’
“Good. It was really good.” Rachel dabbed at the tears that where gathering in her eyes.
“You should go more often. Regularly. Maybe it will give you the strength you need right now.”
Rachel nodded then quickly changed the subject. “So you’re going to tell Ali?”
“Absolutely.”
“Ok, I’m going to think about everything you said. Really, I’m going to think about it.”
“Good. Anyway, time is passing. Let’s get started.” Fatima reached for the dua books she had put on the table.
First they started with Hadith e Kisa /The Story of the Cloak. Fatima explained briefly to Rachel. “One of the things I love about this hadith is the way the family members speak to each other. Imam Ali doesn’t call his wife, ‘Fatima’, he calls her ‘Daughter of the Prophet’ and she, in turn, doesn’t refer to him simply as ‘Ali,’ she uses his full title, ‘Commander of the Faithful.’
“When they speak to their children it is with so much love and tenderness, it reminds us that those we are supposed to be most respectful to are the members of our household and not the outside people, the way we usually are.
“It is said that whenever this hadith is read, the angels come down and encircle the people, praying for their forgiveness until the gathering disperses and Allah answers requests made at that time. So, I really love this.”
The two ladies spent the remainder of their hour together read-ing and listening to various duas and Quran. Fatima and Rachel both made their own specific supplications, and when Rachel left to go to work Fatima prepared to give Ali the news.

“I know.”
“You know?” Fatima sat on the longue chair in her bedroom. “How did you know and when were you going to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.” Ali walked into his closet to get his clothes.
“The more things you keep from me the more worried I get.” Fatima raised her voice slightly to make sure he heard her.
He stepped back through the door way. “I just found out last night. Shawn has a private investigator working on my case and this is what he came up with so far.”
“That was fast.”
“He has good men.” Ali disappeared into the closet again.
“Ali, could you just sit down for a second and talk to me?” Fatima hated when he behaved like this.
Ali returned to the room, stopped getting dressed and sat on the bed facing Fatima.
“What else do you need to tell me?” Fatima asked.
“It’s just what Rachel said, Jamie is following us in an attempt to stir up trouble.When we have more evidence then we can take action.”
“What kind of action?”
“Don’t worry, Fatima.”
“This is my family, and all you can say is, ‘don’t worry?” Do you think that’s reasonable? Now you’re leaving. How do you ex-pect me to feel?”
“You’ll be safe when I’m away. I’ve made sure of it,” Ali said.
“Oh, when were you going to clue me in to what’s going on?”
“I tell you what I think you need to know,” he replied without changing his facial expression.
“How manly of you.” She was deliberately sarcastic, knowing how much he hated it.
“I am what I am, Fatima. I’m not going to come to you with every little problem to stress you out when you can’t do anything about it anyway.”
“I just want to feel included. If something involves me or the family. I just want to know. It’s important to me. And how do you know I can’t do anything? I have a brain, I have ideas too.”
Ali glanced at the clock. “Ok, what do you want to know?”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Ali. I’m trying to communicate with you, here.” Ali could be so warm at times and then suddenly shift to being so distant, often with no warning. “Well, did the in-vestigator find out anything else? Related to your case I mean.” She could not bring herself to say the word ‘paternity.’
“Well, I studied the photos, and it looks like my pictures were cropped from pictures that we took last summer when we went on vacation.” Ali said.
“How would someone have had access to them?”
“I had emailed them to my cousins, so who knows. If some-one got into my email then they could get it, I guess.”
“What about the emails?” Fatima questioned.
“They were all sent between midnight and 2 am. You know I’m always sleeping at that time.”
She knew that was true. She had never known Ali to stay up much past 10 pm. He would sleep even earlier if he could. He al-ways woke up early, extremely early, but never before 2 am.
“Well, someone knows your schedule.What about the re-ceipts?” Fatima continued.
“The dates are right. I was at those hotels.” Ali stood and walked around the room. “I don’t know how anyone got a hold of them, or if they are even the originals. The team is still working on that.”
“I see. Anything else?”
“No, that’s about it for now.”
So he is still being tight lipped about his trip, Fatima thought. She wanted to ask about the paternity test, but the words could not pass her lips. As if Ali could read her mind he said, “Shawn is still researching the best company to do the DNA test with. You know, to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
Fatima nodded. “Ok, I just wish you felt comfortable to share with me. You shouldn’t be dealing with this by yourself.” She was trying to be supportive although she really wished she could jump somewhere into the future to a time when this would no longer matter.

Ali recalled the way Fatima’s mood had changed when he had re-minded her that Shawn was coming over to discuss the case. He also recalled the look on her face when Shawn had left the house. How could he keep bringing up an issue that he knew disturbed her so much? “I can handle it.” He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head.
“I know you can handle it, Ali.That’s not the point. It makes me feel like you don’t trust me or value me when you don’t tell me things. I’m your wife. I want to be there for you.”
“You are. You’re there in the way that I need; it just may not be what you think I need.”
“What about what I need?”
Ali squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head back. When he brought it forward his eyes were heavy. “I’m trying Fatima. I am trying.”
Fatima knew that he was. “Ok, ok, let’s leave it for now. Thanks for telling me everything. I really appreciate it.” Fatima smiled as she thought about his impending departure. “Anyway, I want you to leave happy.”
Ali smiled back. “Impossible.”

After Ali and Fatima had fed and dressed the children, they said their goodbyes and Ali departed amidst a torrent of hugs and kisses from the little ladies of his house. He then crossed the street to say goodbye to his parents. Fatima turned in to start studying. She had a full day ahead of her, but she knew that no matter how busy she was Friday could not come soon enough.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

2011-01-05T01:33:00.000-05:00

Fatima parked the car and turned off the ignition. “Alhamdulillah”. She was home. Her last class of the year was complete, and she only had to prepare for her exams. The first of them was next Friday, her due date. She hoped she would be able to write it. The second one was later in the month and would most likely have to be deferred until the summer. She was not looking forward to the possibility of writing an exam in the summer, with a new baby, but at least Ali would be home and available to help with the children and the house.
She wasn’t sure if he had decided to study or not this summer. Either way, she knew she would have his help, as well as the help of the extended family. She would just wait and see what he decided to do. A long time ago she had learned the value of being silent. It wasn’t necessary to resolve every issue by talking. It was the natural female approach, but men didn’t appreciate it. Ali was patient , but he was still a man.
Allah had made men the head of the household, and they were capable of so much, but a simple thing like a woman asking a question was enough to mess them up. Early in her marriage, she had learned that many issues could be resolved without saying a word. Time, prayer, patience and compassion could take of so much.
She got out of the car, removed her back pack from the back seat and headed up the long stone path towards her house. Ali and Papa had completed the landscaping last year. The neighbours had questioned why they hadn’t just hired someone to do it, but Fatima never did. She understood the need a man had to do things with his hands. It was also a wonderful time for father and son to bond. She prayed that Ali could have that experience with his own son one day.
She smiled as she remembered advice Papa had given her when she got married. ‘When your husband is upset, you be quiet. When he is happy then you talk.’ It had come in handy on more than one occasion.
It wasn’t always easy to tell when Ali was upset, but these days she knew he was stressed. The baby was coming, he was dealing with the paternity suit and he knew Fatima wasn’t happy about it. He was concerned about what his parents were thinking. He still had to travel tomorrow to complete the final games of the regular basketball season, and on top of it all, it was April.
He never spoke about it, but more than once she had seen him looking at a picture he had of himself and his grandmother, taken when he was a small boy. Fatima ached inside. She wished she could help him, but she didn’t know how and she felt like he would not allow her even if she tried.
Fatima stepped onto the first of the porch steps, and one of the front doors opened slightly. She could see the light from inside the house, but nothing else. She took another step and the door opened a little more. She paused. The door remained still. With each step the door opened just a little more.
When she reached the top of the porch, she tip-toed to the door. She was determined to catch Ali this time. She silently slipped through the doorway and looked behind the door. There was nothing there.
“Boo,” Ali whispered from behind her. Before she could turn around, he had taken the backpack from her shoulder. How did he do that? Go from behind the door to the other side of the doorway, without her seeing him? If he had been behind the door at all. She could never figure it out.
She put her hand on her hip and looked up at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to frighten pregnant women, in the night?”
Ali pretended to be thinking. “Right now? No.Nothing at all.”
It was Ali’s last night home this week. As of tomorrow, he would be on the road until Friday. He always tried to make this time special, just as Fatima tried to make his time away special for the girls. She removed her shoes and her head scarf. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” She asked.
He reached behind her and closed the door. “You know I can’t sleep until I know you’re home.”
Fatima laughed. “Well, you’re going to have a long week.”
“As always.” Ali stepped aside, giving Fatima entrance to the kitchen. “How was your class?”
“All I care, is that it’s over, thank goodness. School is the last thing I want to think about right now.” She looked at the pie on the table. “Looks like you started without me.”
Ali moved the pie to the island. “Sit.” After Fatima sat at the table he sat across from her. “Sister Charles stopped by.”
“I actually saw her up the street. She stopped my car on the way in. She mentioned that she saw you.” Ali nodded. Fatima continued, “So how was your night?”
“The usual; kids, kids, kids and more kids, kids, kids,” Ali answered casually.
“Yes, I heard you have a lot,” Fatima replied.
Ali stretched his legs under the table. “It’s my wife. You know, she just won’t stop.”
“What? Ali, that’s not nice.”
“I thought we were joking.” Ali rested his forearms on top of the table.
“That didn’t sound like a joke to me.” Fatima moved her hands to her lap.
“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “It was 90% joke.”
Fatima got up to leave the table and Ali grabbed her arm.
“What else happened tonight?” She asked.
“Why do I get the feeling you already know?” Ali pulled her back into her seat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You just got home. It’s not what I want to talk about right now,” he replied, “or how I want to spend our last few hours together,” he added as he seated himself across from her.
“What happened? Is everything ok?” Fatima asked referring to Rachel’s visit.
“She just needed to talk.”
“What’s going on? And why didn’t she just wait for me to come home, if she was already here?”
“It wasn’t a big deal, just stuff.” Ali brushed some crumbs from the table.
“Naomi is ok… and the boys?”
“Yes, I think they’re fine.”
“You think they’re fine, and she just needed to talk about stuff that you can’t tell me. Do I have it right?” Fatima was having a difficult time hiding her irritation. She couldn’t understand Ali’s elusive behaviour these days. She felt like she didn’t know who she was living with anymore.
“She just had a bad day, I guess. It seems like she’s had a lot on her mind.”
“Really? So she needed to talk. Did she forget that I had a class?”
Ali sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I can’t say. She was just upset. Her dad has been on her mind a lot and she just needed to talk about it. That’s all.”
“Why didn’t you tell her to come back when I got home?”
“I was going to, but she was all messed up and I could tell she was embarrassed that I wouldn’t let her in. I couldn’t do that to her.”
“You couldn’t? Oh, I see. I’m happy that you’re so considerate. Well, we have an agreement here and if this is going to work out then the boundaries have to be respected.
“You’re right. It was a special case. You had to be here to see. She was in bad shape.” Ali could see that Fatima’s agitation was growing and his focus was keeping the situation from escalating.
“That makes it worse.” She motioned with her hands. “Your shoulder is not the one she should be crying on.”
“She was nowhere near my shoulder.”
“Isn’t that comforting?” Fatima answered sarcastically. She stood up, slipped on her scarf and shoes, then reached for the door. “Maybe, I should go and talk to her.”
Ali moved as quickly as she did. He reached over her and put his hand on the door. “It’s late.”
Fatima pulled the door open. “That didn’t stop her from coming to my house.”

In 20 seconds flat, Fatima was at the side door of Rachel’s house. She started knocking on the door and when she remembered that Naomi was the owner of the house she knocked more softly. She caught her breath and stepped back. How many times had she knocked on this same door during her childhood?
She had knocked when she was desperate to use the washroom and not able to make it to her own house just steps away. She had knocked when she was thirsty or hurt or needed comfort. This time she was hurt and confused. Ali was keeping something from her. If Rachel had come to speak to him when she wasn’t home there must be a reason why and she wanted to know what that was.
Rachel moved the curtains to look out. The same curtains they had shopped for together, and Fatima had sewn with so much love, putting her trademark F on. Rachel opened the door and asked, “Fatima, what’s going on?”
“You were at my house tonight,” Fatima said. “Is everything alright?”

Rachel’s concerned looked changed. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
“Yes,” she said and crossed her arms in front of her. She was still feeling a little uncomfortable about her visit and anticipated that Fatima may be annoyed. She was prepared. Ali was Fatima’s husband but Rachel was not going to let Fatima take her to task for a simple conversation.
“You’re ok?”
“I guess.”
“So what happened? Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“I just needed to talk. A lot has been going on lately,” Rachel stated flatly.
“Ok...”
When Rachel didn’t elaborate Fatima finally said, “You knew I was at school.”
“And? What’s the problem? I can’t talk to Ali anymore? We’ve been friends since grade three.”
Fatima was fuming. She had come to Rachel’s house to see what had happened, to make sure she was alright, and all Fatima was getting was this strange attitude from her.What was going on? She couldn’t understand what had gotten into Rachel. If she was truthful, at this point she didn’t want to understand. She just wanted to make herself perfectly clear. “Rachel, we have boundaries and you know why.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you trust your husband?” It was a low blow considering the current issues at hand.
Fatima stepped up to meet Rachel and looked her straight in the eye. “I trust God and can handle whatever comes my way.”
Rachel’s nostrils flared and her eyebrows arched. “Well handle this. Yes, I knew you were at school. Yes, I went to your house at 9:30 on a cold, dark night knowing that you were not there, because I needed something from someone and no, it wasn’t you. I needed my friend. My best friend. As I remember, I used to have two of them.”
Fatima kept her breathing even and refused to respond. She wanted to hear everything.
“Your beloved husband opened the door, to find a basket case on his front porch, and attempted to call everybody and their mother to deal with it, so he wouldn’t have to. After I freaked out and made a total fool of myself, he finally let me in and was gracious enough to allow me a seat at your kitchen table, making sure to sit as far away from me as possible. He gave me cold water, and let me babble. Then, when your children needed him, he left me to enjoy Sister Charles’ pie by myself, with Batool’s help of course. Then, I let myself out, through the door that was left open the entire time. I think you would have been proud of him.”
Fatima should have been furious, but all she felt for Rachel at that moment was sympathy.
“Why Rachel? Why do you do this to yourself?”
Rachel was startled by the sudden change in Fatima’s approach. “What are you talking about? Listen forget it, ok? It was just a conversation. No big deal.”
“Really.”
“Look, Fatima you have everything. All I wanted was just a few minutes.” Rachel leaned on the metal railing while watching Fatima.
“You still don’t get it. You have it all too. If you would just stop focussing on what you think you’re missing you might be able to see all that you have. Ali has never stopped being your friend. Anytime you need him he’s there for you. He watches out for your mom and takes care of your boys like they’re his. He would lay down his life for you. How many people have friends like that? But somehow that’s not enough for you.What do you want, Rachel?”
Rachel shifted her eyes. “He just feels sorry for me.”
Fatima laughed out loud and shook her head. “I’m sure if he wanted to give charity there are many easier ways he could do it,” she retorted.
Rachel remained silent, but her bottom lip started to quiver. Fatima stepped down into the garden. She picked up the stones that Ali had placed so carefully. She started throwing them at the budding crocuses just pushing their way through the dirt. “Who” she threw a stone, “plants flowers” she threw another stone, “in someone else’s garden?”
Rachel released her hands and then crossed them again. “He did that for my mother,” she said decidedly.
“Your mother is blind!” Fatima had not realized her voice had increased so much in volume.
Rachel covered her mouth to prevent herself from speaking. Fatima, breathing heavily stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up to Rachel’s level. “That is exactly why you are in the situation you’re in.You don’t even know what love looks like.”
Rachel saw Ali before Fatima did.
“Fatima, it’s time to go inside.” Ali’s deep voice cut through the night air and the building tension between the two women. All that could be heard now was the rustling trees and their breathing.
Fatima and Rachel stood staring at each other without speaking.
Rachel spoke first. She had to take a cleansing breath and clear her throat to do it. “Your husband is speaking to you.”
Fatima shook her head and turned to walk away. Rachel watched Fatima and Ali enter their home before she retreated and slowly locked her door.

CHAPTER TWELVE

2010-09-19T22:59:00.002-04:00

Rachel transformed when she got into her workplace. She was dynamic and in control. She supervised an office of 12 people, both full time and part time customer service personnel. Though most of them were older than her she commanded respect and was well liked by all. Today she worked just as efficiently as usual, but her thoughts were on the events of the last 24 hours and her friends, Ali and Fatima.
Fatima had not told her but she knew that Ali had been away on Friday night. She did not believe that the law suit had any validity to it. Still something was going on. Something was not making sense. She felt like she had to help them. But how? There had to be way. Fatima was about to deliver a baby and she didn’t need this stress right now.
She thought about the wedding invitation. It would be great to hang out with both Ali and Fatima again. It rarely happened these days. Maybe she should let them take the boys. They so loved being with Ali.
She really needed to think about pressing charges against Jamie. She knew his aggressive behaviour could escalate. Her greatest fear was that he may attack her or harm her in front of the boys. How would they ever heal from that? She couldn’t bear it if her sons witnessed any harm coming to her or violence and aggression from their own father. She was sure that would be the final straw. She would snap. Did she want to wait until that point?
Naomi had been pressuring her to press charges against Jamie for some time. Rachel wasn’t sure why she hadn’t done it. He was her sons’ father. She did not want to be the one to bring him before the law. She knew it would not be her fault, but still she couldn’t bring herself to initiate the process.
“Hi, Rachel.”
“Hey, good morning Jasmine.” Jasmine was one of the women who worked in the office and was five months pregnant. Rachel couldn’t stand the sight of her. She was always bringing in baby books and showing everyone what she had most recently bought for her baby. Rachel could not even walk in the direction of Jasmine’s desk.
In less than five months she would have had her own baby. It seemed so unreal. Strangely enough the first pregnancy was far more vivid and real to her. That child would have been older than Joshua and Masuma. She wondered about that child a lot. Who it would have been and what would have happened to her life if she had had that child, or even if she had healed properly after that loss.
“Rachel. Rachel?”
“Oh yes, sorry about that. You were saying?” Jasmine was motioning to the phone.
“Line three,” she said. Rachel handled the call and returned to her work.
Thoughts of Jamie kept creeping into her mind. What was he up to? Why was he bothering her so much lately? Rachel worried about what would happen if Ali knew he was coming by, or if the two of them got into a confrontation.
There was something Jamie had said that night that really bothered her. “This show is going to get good.” The whole visit was odd. It was really eating her. Rachel definitely knew there was more going on than what appeared on the surface. She had to do some investigation. She picked up the phone.

The morning flew by and too soon it was lunch. “Rachel are you coming with us?” One of the workers asked her.
“No, go ahead. I have an appointment. I’ll see you later.” Rachel gathered her belongings straightened her desk and headed downstairs. She was going to get to the bottom of this. The elevator opened and she stepped out. She was searching inside her handbag for her phone and almost ran over the woman standing in front of her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, pardon me.” Rachel looked up and stared into the face of the nurse from the hospital.
“Excuse me, you’re Rachel right?”
Rachel cocked her head, stepped back and rested her weight on one leg. “Who’s asking?”
“It’s ok honey, I just want to talk to you. I’m Brigitte, the nurse from the hospital. Remember me?”
How could she forget? “What do you want with me?”
Brigitte looked around shaking her head of thick curly hair. “Can we sit somewhere? It’s about Jamie.” Her light brown eyes shifted nervously.
Curiosity and anxiety mixed together. “Sure.” Rachel replied. Brigitte followed as Rachel walked outside and found a private place to sit.
Rachel listened in shocked outrage as Brigitte told her story. She couldn’t believe this. She knew Jamie was low, but this. It was too much. Rachel sat in stunned silence. “Why did you come and tell me all this,” she asked Brigitte the nurse.
Brigitte smiled. “I don’t know. I just liked you for some reason. I’ve seen your boys around. They’re beautiful. I just thought that you deserved to know.”
“Thank-you.”
Brigitte got up to leave. “And Rachel,”
“Yes.”
“Jamie knows about the abortion. I’m sorry.”
Time stopped. Rachel did not even see when or how Brigitte left or what direction she went in. She felt dizzy and nauseas and weak all at once. Jamie knows about the abortion. Jamie knows about the abortion. What was she going to do? She wanted to scream, run, hide, anything to get away from this. “He’s going to kill me,” she whispered to herself.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. For the first time Rachel could remember she did not want the day to end. She did not want to have to leave the office and face the real world and what she was sure would happen next.
Jamie had people following Ali, Brigitte had said. He was trying to find something on him to use to discredit or slander him. That’s why he knew about the paternity suit so quickly. That’s why he was in the neighbourhood so often.
He had been following Rachel too. He was trying to build a case that she was unfit so he could take her sons from her. He wanted to prove that her mother was unstable and her friends and associates were unsavoury. Why? Why? She knew he didn’t want those boys. He just wanted to get back at her for not wanting him. “Oh my God, what am I going to do?”
She got into her car and drove. She had no direction, no purpose. She was almost surprised when she ended up at the cemetery. It took her 20 minutes to get out of the car. She sat clutching the steering wheel fighting the urge to just put the car in drive and burn out of there. She had not been here since the day her father had died. No one had.
Her brother and sister had moved away and her mom hadn’t been able to bear it. Rachel closed the car door and slowly walked toward the plot. She wondered if she would remember where he was. She did. It was like a force pulling her and as she walked her pace quickened.
She found him just where she remembered. The day was so clear in her mind now. The rain. The people. Her refusal to leave. Fatima and Mama and Papa staying with her for hours while she cried and prayed. Now she was back. He had a head stoned now. She had never seen it. ‘Dearly Missed’ it read.
“Oh Daddy you will never know, how much.” Rachel moved closer. “Daddy, I’m here. I am so sorry I left you. I am so sorry I couldn’t come back.” Rachel started to sniffle. She had left her bag in the car so she had nothing to wipe her face. She sat on the grass beside the grave and noticed for the first time flowers on the two sides of his headstone.
She looked around at the other plots. Some had flowers and decorations, others didn’t. Obviously loved ones had left them, but none of them had come back there to visit her father. Who would have left these? Two beautiful bouquets of spring flowers framed the grave. Rachel smelled them and immediately her spirits were lifted. Her father would have loved them. He always loved Naomi’s garden. Rachel remembered that. He preferred to plant vegetables himself, but he did admire Naomi’s devotion to her plants. Rachel guessed that the flowers had been there for at least a week. Still they were holding up pretty well.
Rachel thought about the flowers and how everything in creation had a life span. Everything living eventually would die. Flowers. Plants. Animals. People. That was what they called the circle of life. Then why was it so hard to accept. Why couldn’t we just move on? If death was a part of life then why was it so unbearable?
“Daddy, I’m hear. It’s Rachel. I miss you so much. I love you so much. I can’t imagine you under the ground so far away from me. I can’t stand it that I can’t see you or touch you or hear your voice. I remember all the care you gave me when I was little. You worked so hard to take care of us.”
Rachel remembered the times he went to work with only bread and butter for lunch. Or opened his wallet to give her or her older siblings his last dollars for some school event or something else they needed.
“You sacrificed so much to give us everything you could. You encouraged me when I was down. You held me when I was sad. You stayed up at night with me when I was sick.”
Rachel moved closer and closer until her face was next to the headstone. “Then in your last moments you were alone. I wasn’t there to take care of you. You gave me so much and I gave you nothing. I did nothing for you. I did nothing for you.”
Rachel broke down crying. She placed her hands in the dirt in an effort to get closer to her father. She wanted to hold him so desperately. She needed him so much. She told him everything that had happened to her since her tenth birthday. She told him about Jamie and the babies. All of them. She told him about Fatima and Ali and about how scared she was about her future.
“Daddy just tell me what to do. Please, Daddy just tell me what to do. I am so scared. I need you so much. I’ll do whatever you say please, please help me Daddy.” Rachel sobbed until her chest hurt. She forced herself to catch her breath. As she continued to stroke the dirt around the plot she felt the first drops of rain. The soft rain turned to heavy rain and Rachel stayed. She sat and talked to her father until it got dark and then she went home.
When she pulled into her driveway she remembered. “The daycare. Oh no.” She shut off the engine and ran into the house. Joshua and Jonah were inside the house eating cookies and playing board games. When Rachel entered they jumped up and ran to hug her.
“Mommy you’re dirty,” Joshua said.
“It was raining.” She pushed the boys back and called for Naomi. “Mom! Mom!” Naomi came out of the bedroom. “How did the boys get home?” Rachel asked her mother.
“When you didn’t get them the daycare called. I called Fatima and she sent Ali to pick them up.”
Rachel stood in the same spot, unable to move towards her mother. “I’m sorry. I just got caught up and I didn’t notice the time. I forgot to turn my phone back on. I’m sorry.”
“Are you ok? What happened?” Naomi’s voice was full of concern and sadness.
“Nothing, I just had to do something that’s all. Did they have dinner?”
“Yes, I cooked. They’ve had everything. You just need to put them to bed.”
Rachel clapped her hands. “Let’s go guys, bedtime.” Rachel needed to talk to someone and she didn’t have that much time. She quickly put the boys to bed and turned into her room. She had been in such a hurry to send them off that she had not even changed out of her wet clothes.
Now she peeled off her clothes, showered and got dressed in clean clothes. She put on a pair of khaki cargo pants and a red stretch knit top. She had no time to dry her hair. She combed it back and secured it with a headband. There was so much she needed to say and this might be her only chance to do it. It was Monday and Fatima had a night class. She wouldn’t be back for maybe another hour.
“What should I do?” Rachel sat in her chair and rocked herself as she thought. She looked at the clock and it was already past nine. Fatima’s kids would be in bed by now. Rachel started to pace the room. Back and forth. Back and forth. Then she decided.
“Ok, Ok. I’m going.” She closed her bedroom door behind her and called to her mother. “Ma, I’m going out for a minute.” Then she left quickly before Naomi could ask her any questions.

She crossed the street to Fatima’s house. When she stood in front of the door, took a deep breath and rang the door bell. “Oh, shoot. I’m going to wake the kids.” When Ali opened the door she almost forgot why she had come.
“Sorry about the door bell. I know the kids are probably sleeping.” She tried to keep her hands from moving too much while she looked up at him.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry.” Ali waited for Rachel to say something else. When she didn’t he said, “Fatima’s not home.”
Rachel shifted. She knew she must look a mess. Her face was still swollen from crying and her eyes were red. “Yah, she’s at her class right?”
“Mmm, hmm.” Ali nodded slowly.
“Well, I just really needed to talk.” Ali didn’t move from the doorway and he wasn’t encouraging her conversation either. She was starting to feel very awkward. “Where you busy?”
Ali couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s going on Rachel?”
“I just needed to talk. Could I come in?” After she said it her face started to burn with embarrassment. She had never been in Fatima’s house in her absence. What would Ali, think?
Ali narrowed his eyes. “What happened?”
“I can’t talk like this.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
Ali lowered his head slightly. “Where is your mom?”
“She’s home. I can’t talk to her about this stuff.”
Ali looked over Rachel’s head. “Let me see if my mom is home.”
Rachel couldn’t take anymore. She knew she was making a fool of herself. She was standing in front of this man’s door, begging him to let her in and he wasn’t budging. She was distressed, confused and scared and all she wanted was to talk to her friend. She was boiling with embarrassment and didn’t care what came out. “I don’t want your mother!” she yelled.
She couldn’t tell if Ali was surprised by her or not, but he remained still. “Please Ali?” She couldn’t look at him anymore. After an awkward pause she turned and ran down the stairs.
“Rachel.” Rachel stopped, but didn’t turn around. She was too humiliated.
“Come.”
She turned around and could see that Ali had stepped aside to allow her to enter the house. She looked around the street, slowly climbed the stairs and walked through the doorway.
Ali stepped away from the open door. “No more outbursts. If you wake the kids I’m throwing you out.” His face had softened and it made Rachel feel a little better.
“I’m sorry. Thanks so much.” Rachel took a seat in the booth. Ali poured her a glass of water, pulled out a stool and sat across the kitchen waiting for her to speak.
Rachel sipped the water and thought about what she wanted to say. It was so much she didn’t know where to start. “I’ve been thinking about my father a lot lately. I think all these years I just tried to block it out, but now I can’t. It hurts so much I just don’t know what to do.”
Ali listened without saying a word.
“It seems like no matter what I do. I can’t get it right. Even when I try, just one little mistake and it seems like I’m set back in a huge way. I just don’t know how to get control of my life.”
“What do you want?” Ali asked her.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s the first problem. So how will you get it?”
Rachel thought about the question. “I guess I just want to be happy. I just want to feel normal. I want to feel something other than this pain.”
Ali rubbed the back of his neck. “Rachel, I don’t know if I’m the best person to counsel you.”
“I don’t want a counsellor. I just want a friend. Remember that? We were friends once, Ali.”
“I understand your feelings of loss,” Ali said, ignoring her last statement. Rachel knew that was true. Ali never spoke about all that he had lost in Rwanda, but she knew most of his family members had been killed.
Ali continued. “Death is just a doorway in our life. We all have to cross it at some point. There are no guarantees as to how long we’re going to spend on this side.” Ali paused then continued. “It hurts us when we lose people we love, but the relationship doesn’t end. It just changes.”
They’ve done what they came to do. We have to fulfill our own purpose. We do the best with the time we have. In the end we have to answer for our life, no one else’s.”
Rachel tried to process what Ali had said to her. “What if I feel confused? What if I don’t really know what to do? Where do I start?”
“Focus forward. Give value to the world. Put your energy into something positive. Start there.”
Rachel didn’t know what she was really doing here; in Fatima’s kitchen. Why had she really come? Ali couldn’t help her if she didn’t tell him everything. She knew she wasn’t going to tell him about Jamie. She was terrified about what could happen if Ali knew what Jamie was up to.
“Easy for you to say, you’re happily married.” Rachel took another drink of her water.
“You could be, too.”
Rachel stopped with her glass in mid air. She had never really thought it was possible for her to be happily married and she had never realized that she thought that way until now.
Ali continued, “I know your father is gone and you miss him, but he’s not the only man that can love you.”
Rachel was speechless.
“Love didn’t die with him. It’s all around you. Start with those closest to you; your mother, your sons. If you don’t learn to love them properly how can you love anyone else?”
“I do love them.” Rachel was insulted at the suggestion that she didn’t love her family.
“Really? How do you show it?” Ali shook his head. “Rachel, if this is how you love people, who would want to be next in line?”
Ali’s words were stinging. She had come for honesty and she knew he would give it to her. Rachel looked at the kitchen clock. It was ten to ten. Fatima’s class finished at ten. She had one more question to ask and this may be the only chance she would have. She only hesitated for a second. She had to know.
“Why did you choose her?” Rachel’s voice was barely audible. Indeed she couldn’t believe she had really gotten the words out, but she had to know.
“What did you say?” Ali wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.
“What is it that made you marry Fatima?” She kept her eyes on her glass. Part of her wished she could crawl into the glass and drown, but she was relieved that she had finally gotten the question out.
“Are you serious?” Ali folded his arms across his chest.
Rachel glanced at the clock. “Yes. I am.”
Ali lifted his chin speaking slowly. “She’s smart. Beautiful. Funny. Kind and honest. She is the best listener and she understands life the way I do.” He paused. “Enough?”
“So which of those do I lack?” Rachel wanted to strangle herself, but she couldn’t stop now.
Ali closed his eyes. “Rachel, come on.”
“Ali, please. Who else can I ask these things? You are my friend, my best friend in the whole world. Please just tell me.” She couldn’t believe that she had come this far, but she wasn’t going to turn back.
Ali rested his elbows on his knees. With his hands clasped together he rubbed his forehead against his knuckles as he thought about how he should answer her. “None.”
“What?” It was almost a whisper.
He raised his head. “None of them. You don’t lack any of them.”
“Then why did you choose her?” Rachel tried to keep her voice from cracking.
Ali thought about the impact his words would have, then very carefully he said, “Until you value yourself no one else is going to.”
“Oh. Wow. You really take honesty to another level don’t you?” Rachel covered her face with both her hands. She didn’t know whether to feel happy, insulted, relieved or grateful that he had told her the truth.
Ali smiled. “That’s what friends are for.” He stood up and moved toward the door. Just then there was a soft knock. It was Sister Charles. “Oh you must be Ali; I met your wife at Naomi’s.” She held up a pie. “I believe this is your favourite? I promised Fatima I would bring one by when I was in the neighbourhood. I saw the lights so I just thought I would try. Otherwise I would have left it with Naomi.”
Ali took the still warm strawberry-rhubarb pie from Sister Charles. “Thank-you. Fatima’s not home yet. I’ll be sure to let her know that you stopped by.”
Sister Charles looked behind Ali to see Rachel sitting at the table. “Oh my, Rachel, how are you? You’re so quiet sitting there.”
“Good evening Sister Charles.”
“Is it still evening?” Sister Charles looked at her watch. “Oh my, it’s after ten. Time flies.” She peered over her glasses into the kitchen. “Well kids, good night.” She threw another glance at Rachel and then quietly left.
“Great. She’s going to tell my mom that I was here.” Rachel started to feel embarrassed all over again.
“That’s the least of your worries.” Ali said as he placed the pie on the table and headed towards the stairs.
“Funny. Aren’t you going to offer me a piece?” Rachel asked
“Help yourself. I’m going to check the girls.” Before he reached the top of the stairs Batool was there. “Daddy I’m hungry.”
“Do you want some pie?” Ali moved up the stairs towards her as her eyes lit up. “Auntie Rachel is in the kitchen. She’ll help you.” Ali told her.
“Where’s Mommy?” Batool rubbed her face.
“She’s not home yet. Go on.” He continued past her to the bedroom to check on Masuma and Laila.
Rachel and Batool enjoyed Sister Charles’ pie and Rachel got ready to leave. She kissed Batool good night. “Go up to bed and tell Daddy I left.” Rachel stepped outside, closed the door behind her and walked across the street to her house. Just as she was opening her front door she saw Fatima’s car turn into the driveway.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

2010-08-25T07:07:00.001-04:00

~~~to view the previous chapters please see my very first posts~~~

“No way. Absolutely not. Impossible.” Ali flipped a pancake on the grill. He had finished his workout, had a shower and come to make breakfast. Fatima, Masuma, Laila and Batool were all waiting patiently for him to finish so they could eat.
“Why not?” Fatima sat on one side of the booth while the three girls faced her across the table. They were drinking orange juice, and quietly colouring pictures while they waited for their food.
Ali kept his focus on the grill. “I am not going to let you drive with Rachel more than an hour out of town to spend days alone in a deserted area in an unfinished house where the closest neighbour, let alone any kind or convenience is a mile away. Did I forget to mention that you are due next week; which means now? God knows where the hospital is. And what about the lake? There’s been a lot of rain recently. What if there’s flooding or some other problem? And no phone service yet? There’s no way you’re going.” Ali put a plate of pancakes on the table. Batool was the first to dive in.
“Thank-you Daddy.”
“You’re welcome sweetheart. Eat up.”
Fatima smiled. “That’s like telling rain to be wet.” Ali smiled and smoothed Batool’s hair.
Fatima continued her protest. “Anyway, we won’t be alone. The work men are still there.” She forked a pancake and placed it on her plate.
“Hmm. And I’m going to send you for one minute to stay with a group of strange men?” Ali shook his head incredulously.
“They’re not strange men. Hamza is in charge and will be there the entire time.” Hamza was a close family friend and in charge of construction and development of the property. Fatima took the first bite of her pancake.
“Fatima, he’s not responsible for you. I am. Anyway, he would think, no he would know, I’m crazy to let you go up there.”
Masuma and Laila started a competition to see who could put the most syrup on their plates. Batool just focussed on finishing her food so she could have more.
Ali took the syrup from the girls and started to pour for Fatima.
“No thanks. I’ll just have some fruit.” Fatima put her hand up.
“Counting calories?” Ali raised an eyebrow. Both he and Fatima were health conscious. It was one of the many things that they had in common. Fatima wanted to make sure they were healthy, fit and together for a long time.
“Why not?” Fatima lifted her head and smiled.
“You only have a few more days left. Live a little.” Ali said as he passed her a bowl of mixed berries.
Fatima couldn’t let this opportunity to get a punch in pass her by. “I am trying to but my over-protective husband is cramping my style.”
Ali took his seat in the bench across from her. “Fatima if you need time to yourself, I understand and support that 100%. I can’t let you go to the house. There are so many hotels around town that have spas. Why not do that? You can even go downtown if you want.” He put another pancake on Batool’s plate. “Why don’t you check it out and pick whatever you want. I’ll go for that. You’ll be close to the family, your doctor and the hospital.” Ali nodded. “I’m comfortable with that.”
“Nothing can compare to being in nature.” Fatima pushed the point.
“True.” Ali looked at Fatima. She was pretending to be stubborn but he knew she wouldn’t go if he didn’t agree. For that reason he really wanted to find a compromise that would suit her. “How about this, after the baby is born and you two get the ‘all clear’, we can go up there and you can relax, in nature, for as long as you want?”
“We?” Fatima wore a playfully surprised look.
“It’s a big house, you won’t even see me if you don’t want to.” He downed his orange juice.
“Going with a new baby is not the same as going by myself,” Fatima pointed out.
Ali shrugged. “True.”
Fatima finally gave in. “Ok, I won’t go. And I’ll think about the spa.”
Ali smiled and quietly finished his breakfast.
As he started to clear the plates he said, “Listen, Shawn is going to be here soon. We should get the kids ready.”
Fatima’s mood immediately changed. “Ok, I’ll go get them dressed. Your mom should be here in about 30 minutes.” The girls had swimming lessons and were then going to visit another family with their grandmother. That would allow Ali and Fatima to have some uninterrupted time to speak to Shawn about the paternity suit.
“Mommy, when can I be on Auntie Rachel’s swim team?” Masuma asked.
“You need to be nine and a very good swimmer. So you better go and get ready for your lessons.” Fatima cupped Masuma’s chin in her hand.
Fatima helped the girls dress while Ali cleaned the kitchen. When Mama arrived they happily ran outside, fully excited about the day ahead of them. After they had left Ali turned to Fatima. “Are you ok?” he asked.
Fatima stood in front of him. “Sure.”
“Shawn will be here soon. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
“Are you kidding me right now? I can’t function if I don’t know what’s going on.” Fatima put her hands on her hips. She wore blue and white waffle-knit hooded maternity top and matching pants.
“I just don’t want you to be stressed out about this. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay. Just let me handle it,” Ali said.
“Ali, I am not going to be in the dark about this. I’ll go crazy if I don’t know what’s going on. Come on.” Her eyes were intense as she looked up at him.
Ali reluctantly agreed. “Ok, fine.”

When Shawn rang the door bell Ali was right there to open it.
“Hey, big guy.” Shawn Thomson was a high school friend. He and Ali had forged a friendship that had last over 12 years. Ali trusted him completely.
“Thanks for coming by so quickly Shawn.” Ali closed the door behind his friend and led him into the foyer.
“No problem. No problem. I understand the urgency. This definitely needs our immediate attention.” Shawn stepped forward and stopped when he saw Fatima standing in the hallway. “What’s up, Mommy?” Shawn also knew Fatima well and had great affection for her.
“Hey, Shawn. How are you?”
“Good, good. You look like you need to take a seat,” he joked with her.
“Funny, you are. I’ve been waiting for you.” Fatima turned and walked towards the family room.
Shawn turned back to Ali and lowered his voice. “You sure you want to do this here?”
“Yes, definitely. Fatima insisted. Come on lets go sit down.” They walked to the family room at the rear of the house.
The room was painted a soft green and decorated in green and cream. Fatima had already taken a seat in the corner of the cream coloured leather couch at the far end of the room when the two men arrived. Shawn sat in the couch closest to the door. He removed his suit jacket and put it over the arm of the chair. Ali pulled up a chair facing Shawn. A coral stone coffee table separated them. “So what do you have?” Ali asked.
“Alright, so I contacted the office today and received some information.” Shawn looked across the room at Fatima.
Ali encouraged him to continue. “Please Shawn, go ahead. It’s ok.”
Shawn opened his bag. “The woman in question, Leanne Roy, claims she met you about 18 months ago in Toronto. She says she saw you for about six months. She has documented all the dates. Shawn pulled out a sheet of paper. Ali took the paper from Shawn’s hand.
“Does anything look familiar?” Shawn asked him.
“These look like dates that I would have been away, but I would have to double check to be sure.” Ali returned the paper to the table keeping his eyes straight ahead.
Fatima sat silently with her two hands rolled together into a ball. She leaned with one elbow on the arm of the chair and pressed her doubled fist to her mouth.
“Ok guy, talk to me.” Shawn sat back and waited.
“I don’t know anything,” Ali replied while shrugging his shoulders.
Shawn shook his head. “Listen, you have to give me more than that. I need something to work with here.”
“I don’t have anything. I don’t know this woman, never even heard her name.”
“Ok, well there’s more.” Shawn reached into his bag again. “Pictures.”
Shawn placed pictures on the coffee table. Ali picked them up and flipped through. “Ok, a pretty good Photoshop job.”
“Is that you?” Shawn pointed to the man in the pictures posing beside the woman filing the lawsuit.
“Of course it’s me, but I never posed with her.” Shawn looked from Ali to Fatima.
“Maybe it was a fan who wanted a picture with you?” Shawn suggested.
“No. I would never have put my arm around them.” Ali rubbed his hand across the back of his neck.
Fatima opened her hands and rubbed her arms.
Shawn reached into his bag again. “Receipts.”
Ali picked up the receipts that were placed on the table.
“Is that your signature?” Shawn continued.
Ali studied the receipts in his hand. “Looks like it.” Shawn tightened his lips. “Come on Shawn, I’m in hotels all the time. Anybody could have found these, or forged my signature on a new receipt.”
“Were you in those hotels on those dates?” Shawn pressed.
“It’s possible. I would have to check.” Ali pressed his fingers against his forehead.
“Email transcripts.” More documents hit the coffee table.
Ali carefully examined the transcripts. “Ok, so I was hacked.” He responded matter-of-factly.
Shawn laughed. “Listen, you know I’m going to do everything you need me to, but I think the best thing for all concerned is to come to some kind of agreement soon. Otherwise this could get very messy pretty fast.”
“Agreement? There’ll be no agreement. They’re liars. A DNA test is going to prove that.” Ali’s eyes were hard and his voice became harsh.
“Yes,” Shawn continued slowly, “we are definitely going to do that.” He glanced at Fatima again, “but the longer this drags on the more publicity it’s going to get, and Ali, you have a family.”
“I know that.” Ali looked at the email transcripts again. “Ok, so what’s the deal?”
“No matter what the DNA results are, every day that this keeps active, it damages you. All people are going to remember is that your name was associated with a paternity suit.” Shawn leaned back in his seat. “It doesn’t look good.”
Shawn folded his arms. “And you know what they say. Where there is smoke there’s fire. People will think that even if this is not your child maybe you did have a relationship with this woman or some other women. Trust me; you don’t want your family to go through this. We can arrange a meeting and squash this whole thing now.”
Ali stood up and walked toward the back window. He looked outside for a few moments. Shawn and Fatima waited for him to be ready. Ali then turned around to face Shawn. “I am not meeting with these people. We are going to prove that they are lying and clear my name. Are you with me or not?” Ali’s voice was starting to develop an edge.
“Of course, I am. Of course. Ok. Let me get back to the office. I have a lot of work to do on this. I’ll check in with you later today.” Shawn rose to his feet.
“Sounds good.” Ali stepped forward.
Fatima remained seated while the two men walked to the door.
Shawn stopped in the hallway and turned to Ali. “Man, I’m sorry Fatima had to hear all that.”
“It’s fine, she wanted to be there. We’ll deal with it.” Ali pushed his hands into the pockets of his track pants.
“Ali listen, we need to get a private investigator on this.” Shawn positioned himself closely to Ali and lowered his voice.
“What do you mean? Why?” Ali questioned.
“If this woman went through all this trouble, she is not simply mistaken about who her child’s father is; and she is not just trying to drag you through the mud. She is set on proving that you are the father of her child. I have a gut feeling there is more going on here than we can see right now. I’m going to research DNA labs. We need to make sure the one we use is tight. We don’t want any mishaps.”
“Is that possible?” Ali was starting to feel a growing sense of apprehension. The feeling was new to him and he definitely did not like it.
Shawn rolled a fist and gently tapped Ali on his chest. “Anything is possible, my friend.”
Ali let Shawn out and turned to see Fatima at the end of the hallway. The sun shone through the back doors and framed her as she stood in the door way of the family room. She had one arm folded across her middle and the opposite hand covering her mouth. “Fatima,” Ali stepped towards her. She held up her hand.
“I’m ok. Really I am.” She tried to smile but her eyes couldn’t lie.
“Fatima, I know it looks bad and I have nothing to offer you except what we’ve built our life on; not just in the years since our marriage, but all the years that you’ve known me. You know who I am.”
Ali continued slowly towards her. She kept her hand steady and closed her eyes. “No. Ali, please don’t.” When she opened them again he was standing directly in front of her. “What do you want me to say? ‘I trust you? I believe in you? I’ll stand by you no matter what?”
Ali pulled his head back and furrowed his brow. “No. I don’t need any of that.” He placed one hand on the wall above her head. “I just need you to be ok.”
Fatima had to swallow her emotion. He always knew just how to get to her. “Everything is going to be fine. I know that.” She cleared her throat. “Now, if you will excuse me.” She slipped past Ali and disappeared up the stairs.
When he heard her bedroom door close Ali turned into the workout room and attacked the punching bag with a ferocity he had not felt in years.

The Blue Zones-Dan Buettner

2010-07-23T07:37:00.004-04:00

~~~Scroll down to find my novel, We Started Out As Friends~~~

The Blue Zones share lessons from around the world on how to achieve a healthier, happier and longer life. The author examines areas in the world that have a large number of centenarians. He then shares the 9 things they all have in common.

My personal favourite is the notion that most North Americans exercise too hard. (the ones that exercise at all that is) If you want to live longer do something light everyday; walking, gardening, playing with children. The body wasn't made to take 75 to 100 years of pounding and grinding.
Woo hoo! Pick up a copy of The Blue Zones, below.

In a Heartbeat ~Leigh Anne and Sean Tuohy with Sally Jenkins

2010-07-16T01:14:00.002-04:00

~~~Scroll down to find my novel We Started Out As Friends~~~

Many of you may be familiar with the movie, The Blind Side, in which Leigh Anne and Sean Tuouy take a homeless youth into their home and family. Through their love and support, Michael Oher ascends to greatness.

The book In a Heartbeat, tells the story of this amazing couple and their unique family. I recently saw the movie and ofcourse, I became curious about the people behind the movie, so I conducted my own research. One interview that touched me was one in which Leigh Anne Tuouy was asked about the enormous gift that they as a family had given to Michael by taking him into their home.

Leigh Anne replied that Michael had given them much more than they had given him and they were so happy to have him in their home from day one because it allowed them the opportunity to give everyday.

Pick up a copy of In a Heartbeat and learn more about this incredible family and their story.

EAT PRAY LOVE by Elizabeth Gilbert

2010-07-06T13:17:00.001-04:00

~~~Scroll down to find my novel We Started Out As Friends~~~

I have read 12 chapters of this book, but I have to share what moves me when it moves me. It won't necessarily be at the end of the book.

My cousin gave this to me as a birthday present the year before last, I believe. Though I have picked it up several times, and even read the back cover, I have never been moved to actually start it until now. I can't say why, except as the old people say, "nothing happens before it's time."

I was going out on Saturday and needed something to read on my journey. EAT PRAY LOVE was it.

The thing that has touched me thus far ***warning:SPOILERS*** is the petition that the author wrote to God. She was traveling with her friend and discussing the difficult divorce she was going through. The process was being delayed because her husband would not sign the papers so she expressed the desire to write a petition to God about her plight. Her traveling companion encourages her to do so.

After she has written the petition, which is detailed in the book, her friend declares, "I would sign that." They then go through a list of people who they feel would sign that petition and collect the signatures in spirit. After sometime she falls asleep and when she wakes up her phone is ringing. The lawyer handling the divorce had called to let her know, "Great news. He just signed it!" *** SPOILER ENDED***

By telling the story to my cousin, it encouraged her to write her own petition and of course I will write mine, but I realized that I need to be in a very lonely place when I do this because thinking about all the people that would sign it just breaks me up. I have such wonderful caring people in my life. The experience of reading this much of EAT PRAY LOVE, reminded me of that fact.

So have a look at the book and tell me what you think.

More about The Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell

2010-06-29T19:23:00.001-04:00

I have just about finished reading this book. It is definitely one of my favourite books. I made a few points below referring to a few things that stood out to me. I am sure everyone will get something different from a book like this. The first thing that comes to my mind is, "Things are not always what they seem." I also feel that, "Success is when preparation meets opportunity", is another key point. So prepare, prepare, prepare and then go back and prepare some more!

The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

What is success really made of?

The author of this brilliant book has examined success from an interesting angle.

Some of the questions he answers: How does birth date affect your chances of excelling athletically?

Is it really possible to 'miss the boat' when it comes to opportunities?

Out of 1470 genius students in a particular study, some become Nobel Prize Winners while others become college drop outs and 'couch potatoes'. What is the only factor in the case of these brilliant but under achieving children? The answer may knock the air out of you.

Are Southerners more easily offended than Northerners? Why?

How does geography affect culture and what effect does this have on generations after a people have migrated to new lands?

What about the ethnic theory of plane crashes?

Are Chinese really better at math? You know the answer, but you don't know why.

What's the problem with the school system? Is it failing poor children?

What's wrong with summer vacation? Learn how you can make the most of it.

Does having a higher IQ really translate into any measurable real world advantage? Apparently not, but you need to know what does.

My personal favourite, The Rule of 10 000. Once a person has a certain level of ability, what is the only thing standing between the superstars and the nobodies? 10 000 hours! Nothing else.

Pick up a copy to find out more. This book will change the way you view the world and definitely the way you raise you children. Enjoy!

The Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell

2010-06-24T16:45:00.000-04:00

The Story of Success...It's not what you think.

I am currently reading this book and I must say it is an interesting and inspiring read. Gladwell undertakes the study of success from a new angle. What is it that truly separates the over achievers and the mega successful from the rest of us? Is it brains? Brawn? Riches? The luck of the draw? Apparently these things are factors, but only to a certain point.

Gladwell states that the overwhelming number of successful people are so because of opportunities and environment, circumstances that the average person may not have had. As well he states that studies have shown that the rule of 10 000 applies.

It takes 10 000 hours to become an expert in any field, be it sports, music, fiction, whatever you choose. After a certain level of intelligence and ability, the only thing that separates the superstars from the average Joe's is time spent on their particular discipline. So inspiring! I am only on page 102, but will return with more insights later. Check it out.

CHAPTER TEN

2010-02-07T18:15:00.002-05:00

Rachel sat in her living room watching the clock and waiting for the best time to call. Fatima was usually up early. 8 o’clock should be ok. But then she might be alarmed that Rachel had called so early, plus Ali would definitely be home. If she waited until nine then there was a chance he would be on his way out or at least occupied, but Rachel would be at work at that time and wouldn’t have the freedom to talk as she would like.
The clock turned 8:15. “Late enough.” Rachel picked up the phone and dialled Fatima’s number, adrenaline cursing through her veins. She wasn’t sure if the anxiety she was feeling was due to fear of what she would hear on the other end or the memories of the encounter with Jamie during the night.
“Hello.”
“Fati?”
“Hey Rachel.”
“How are you doing? Did I wake you?” Rachel started the conversation cautiously. She wasn’t sure how much Fatima knew about what was going on.
“Kind of. But it’s ok. What’s up?”
“I heard some news.”
“What news?” Fatima asked.
“I read online something about Ali and a law suit?” Rachel tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice.
Fatima was suddenly wide awake. “Oh no. It’s online already?”
“So you do know?” Rachel leaned back on her couch.
“Yes, it’s what the lawyer’s letter was about.” Fatima sunk into her pillow.
“Ok, are we talking about the same kind of law suit here?” Considering Fatima’s condition Rachel certainly didn’t want to shock her.
“Yes, Rachel it’s a paternity suit.” Fatima sat up in her bed and brushed her hair back with her hands.
“Oh Fati! So what’s Ali saying?” Rachel dropped her head into her hands. She felt a headache building.
“Well, he seemed just as shocked as we are. He says he doesn’t know the woman and doesn’t know what this is about.”
Relief washed over Rachel. “Oh, thank God. Now I can breathe.”
“That’s it? Just like that and you can breathe. You’re ok now?”
“Well yah, if Ali says he doesn’t know her then, well you believe him don’t you?” Rachel felt a little confused and wondered if she was missing something.
“I don’t know, Rachel. I’ve been on the road with him. I know how it is. It’s crazy.” Rachel could hear the creeping despair in Fatima’s voice.
“But he’s not,” Rachel reminded Fatima.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” Rachel insisted. “You do know. Fatima, are you feeling ok?”
“Of course. I just have to look at all the possibilities. I can’t have my head stuck in the sand, or just follow blindly. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, you can’t be ok, because what you’re saying is not making any sense to me. I’m coming over.”
“What? No, I’m fine. You don’t have to come over. You have to go to work,” Fatima said.
“Oh please, I run that place; I can be a few minutes late. Anyway I’m already dressed.”
“Really, Rachel it’s not necessary,” Fatima insisted.
“I’m there. Just open the door.” Rachel hung up the phone.

By the time Rachel rang Fatima’s door bell Fatima was there to let her in. Rachel looked beautiful and professional in a cream pant suit.
“Oh Rachel, you look great. I can’t wait until I can fit into some regular clothes.”
Rachel hugged and kissed Fatima and replied. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I would change places with you in minute.”
“Are you sure? Do you remember the conversation we just had?” Fatima asked.
Rachel waved away the comment. “Piece of cake.” She walked towards the back of the house. “So where is the trouble maker anyway?”
“He’s in the workout room.” Rachel could hear the clanging of barbells and Ali grunting as he pushed his body to its limits.
“Sounds like he’s at war.” Rachel took a seat on Fatima’s couch and placed her handbag behind her.
“Yes, well you know how he gets.” Fatima sat beside Rachel.
“Shouldn’t he have a spotter?” Rachel was genuinely concerned. Lifting heavy weights alone was dangerous.
“Oh please don’t even get me started. We have had the conversation too many times. Obviously I can’t do it, and if I even go down there to see what he’s doing I’m going to have a heart attack. You wouldn’t believe the weight he’s lifting.” Fatima was obviously concerned as well.
“Well, he should just lift you. At least if he drops you, you can move yourself,” Rachel said teasingly.
“Barely.” Fatima giggled and rubbed her tummy. “Anyway he would need two or three of me. He can do me with one hand.” Fatima paused and then continued. “I know you’re in hurry, so don’t worry, I’m fine.”
Rachel’s face became serious. “So how is everything over here? Are you guys talking?”
“Yes, of course. We talked about it yesterday and I heard everything he had to say.” Fatima shrugged. “Now it’s just wait and see.” Rachel couldn’t miss the obvious sadness in Fatima’s voice.
Rachel narrowed her eyes and studied the young woman in front of her. This wasn’t the friend she knew. This was a sad and disturbed woman. How could she say these things? Why was she sounding so unsure? “Fatima he wouldn’t lie to your face. Even if he messed up, do you honestly think he could carry it on this far?”
“No, I honestly don’t, but I never expected to get mail like that either. So I just need to be prepared for anything. I’m not going to be shocked like that again. Ever.” Fatima looked down at her hands folded in her lap.
Rachel finally understood the depth of Fatima’s pain. “Oh honey, it must have been horrible for you. Come, hugs.” Rachel reached over and hugged Fatima.
“Thanks Rachel. I do feel pretty lonely right now.”
“Please don’t say that. You have all of us, my mom, Mama and Papa.” Rachel continued, “Has Ali talked to them?”
“Well, he would have seen them this morning, but we didn’t talk about it.”
Rachel remembered seeing Ali in the morning. Now was probably not a good time to mention what had happened during the night.
Fatima folded and unfolded her hands. “Ali’s parents are great. They really are, and I love them to death, but they’re his parents.”
“Fatima, they are the fairest people I know,” Rachel said. “And they love you. Truly love you.”
“I know they do. I love them too. It’s just not the same at a time like this.”
“Have you called your mom?”
“No, I don’t want to worry her.”
“Well, she’s going to hear sooner or later. Isn’t it better if she hears from you?”
“Good point. It’s just not on the top of my list of things to tell people, you know?”
“Listen, I know this is going to be ok. Unless Ali is on crack, this cannot be true. I‘ll never believe it. So you don’t worry about that. But if you need to, you call me every other minute. If you need to talk or anything, you call me ok?”
Rachel could not count the times that Fatima and Ali had been there for her and her family. This was the least she could do in return.
“You have to work. I’m not going to bother you.”Fatima stretched her legs and shook her head.
“Did I mention that I run that place?” The two women laughed and then Fatima changed the subject.
“Now, about you Rachel. Tell me how you’ve been feeling.”
Rachel’s face clouded over. “I’m ok but I still have to see the doctor.”
“For a follow up?”
“Yes, but it’s a little more involved.” Rachel paused and smoothed out the lines in her pants. “There appears to be a lot of scar tissue from before, so they have to see what happens. There’s a possibility that I won’t be able to have any more kids.” Rachel’s face started to turn red and her eyes got glassy.
Fatima took Rachel’s hand. “Rachel, I am so sorry. But don’t give up hope so quickly. You know in the end it is not up to the doctors. You know that?”
Rachel nodded. “It’s amazing isn’t it? I have two boys, no husband and I’m worrying about whether or not I can have more kids.” Rachel wiped the first tears as soon as they fell.
“You have a right to think about your future, just like everyone else. Don’t take that away from yourself. Now regardless of what the doctors say, that’s not the end. They don’t have the last word.” Fatima spoke gently to her friend.
“It seems like the opportunity for me to live happily ever after is slipping further and further away.”
“That’s nonsense.” Fatima’s voice was decisive.
“Really? Who is going to want me? I have two kids already and I may be sterile in a minute.” Rachel reached into her bag for tissue.
“First of all you don’t know that and second there are many loving wonderful men who will cherish you with or without the possibility of children. Maybe he already has his own children. Or maybe he will embrace your boys as his own. Leave that to Allah. You just take care of you. Let Him do the rest.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right. What else can I do anyway?” Rachel leaned back in defeat.
“There’s a lot you can do.” Fatima raised her eyebrows at her friend.
Rachel knew exactly what Fatima was talking about. Fatima was encouraging her to pray; seek God and forge a relationship with Him. It was an experience Rachel just hadn’t had yet. Naomi attended weekly prayer meetings. Since Fatima became Muslim she had regular prayer meetings she called dua sessions with her Muslim sisters, but Rachel had just never had that experience where she felt her prayers had been answered. She just hadn’t developed that level of faith. She wasn’t even sure how to do it.
Rachel could see the type of peace that Fatima had developed over the years. She was so different from other women her age. Rachel knew it was Fatima’s experience with God that had done it. Rachel had seen her evolve over the years. So many things had seemed to fall into place for her. Even the challenges and difficulties of life seemed more manageable. Fatima seemed better able to deal with them.
Rachel knew that Fatima was living her ideal life. She was always content. Sure she would have liked her husband to be home more, but she never complained. She used his absence to her advantage. She would do sometime she may not have time to do otherwise. Sometimes she would rearrange the house or change something about herself. Ali had the good fortune of coming home to a new home and new wife on occasion.
Fatima also used the time to give more direct attention to the kids. She had developed some rituals for when Ali was away so that the girls would have something to look forward to that would eclipse the longing they all had for him.
Fatima would also visit and care for the community or she would devote herself to more intense study. She always had a plan and she used her time well. The days would fly by and Ali never knew what adventure he was coming home to hear about next.
Rachel on the other hand felt that no matter how she tried to get herself out of a hole she somehow ended up further and further in. Now things with Jamie were getting more complicated. He was coming around more frequently; just when she had decided to cut him off completely. That was certainly disturbing. Her mother didn’t seem to be doing well and memories of her father were becoming more difficult to deal with. Then there was Jonah and his increasingly restless nights. With all this on her mind she couldn’t even think about prayer.
“I better go. I’ve taken enough of your time.” Rachel started to stand.
Fatima pulled her back down. “Ok, how about you come over tomorrow and pray with me? I would really appreciate it.” Rachel hesitated. She wasn’t ready to take this step.
“For me?” Fatima tried to look as pathetic as possible.
“Fine. I guess you could use some support right now.”
“Aahh!” Fatima screamed and almost jumped into Rachel’s lap. She grabbed Rachel’s hands and squeezed them, all the while bouncing in her seat.
“Calm down. Pregnant lady bouncing around. Not good,” Rachel said as she tried to hold back her own smile.
“Great, I can’t wait,” Fatima said. Rachel could already see the wheels turning in Fatima’s mind.
“You can come over here tomorrow morning. Oh, I am so excited!” Fatima knew she should contain her enthusiasm, but this small step was a huge breakthrough for Rachel, and Fatima was planning to take full advantage of it.
“Slow down. You’re wrinkling my suit.” Rachel pretended to be concerned about her clothing. “What about Ali? I’m going to be all up in his home space.” She waved her hands in little circles to emphasize her point. “Do you think he’ll mind?”
“Mind? Are you kidding me? He’s going to freak, he’ll be so happy.” Fatima said
Rachel laughed. “Forgive me if I can’t picture Ali freaking over anything.”
“He’ll be happy, trust me.” Fatima couldn’t stop smiling
Rachel stood up. “Well, I better get going. Oh, there’s one more thing I wanted to tell you. Jonah has been having nightmares recently, but these ones are different.”
“How?” Fatima had always been very concerned about and protective of both of Rachel’s sons since they were born.
“Usually you know he would kind of go off if something happened or if Jamie came around, but this time it just started and he keeps saying ‘bad men come’ when I go away.”
“Really, that’s interesting.” Fatima sunk deep into thought.
“What?”
“Well, I didn’t tell anyone, but I’ve been having really funny feelings lately too.”
Rachel sat back down. They all took Fatima’s ‘feelings’ seriously. She was very intuitive and usually dead on when it came to her premonitions.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rachel started to feel anxious.
“Well, I didn’t know what it was about. And then with all this stuff with Ali, I just thought it was related to him, but maybe it’s not.”
“Wow. Well keep me updated,” Rachel said.
“Same with you. If you want the boys to spend more time over here, that’s fine. It may be good for them. We’re going to a wedding next week. We can bring them with us.”
“No, it’s too much to ask.” Rachel felt guilty about all the attention that Fatima and Ali paid to her sons. “It’s your family time.”
“They are our family.” Fatima squeezed Rachel’s hand. “Ali will love it and he’s going to be the one taking care of them anyway. I think I’ll have my hands full.”
“You didn’t even ask him,” Rachel protested.
“I don’t have to ask him this. Really, he’ll be fine with it. You can come to. That would be great actually; I just thought you might want the break from the boys.”
“Sure, I’ll think about it.”
“Good. See you tomorrow?”
“Yes. How much time do we need?
“Can you come at 7:30 or 8?
“Sure I’ll be here.”
Rachel stood up and Fatima walked her to the door.
“Hey I had another idea,” Fatima started. “Maybe you and I can do a little retreat. Our house out of town is almost finished and it’s beautiful. It’s surrounded by acres of undeveloped land, and it’s right on the lake. We can go for a few days while Ali’s away. I think we both need some ‘me’ time.”
“Ha! In your condition? Yah, right. Tell you what, you talk to him, if he says yes, then I’ll drive up there, pay for gas, food, entertainment, whatever. The whole time will be totally on me and you can have me praying all night long.”
“Why do you have to be like that?” Fatima pouted.
“Because I know exactly what he’s going to say, that’s why. Actually, can you call me when you’re going to ask him and put the phone on speaker? I would love a front row seat to this.” Rachel was laughing now.
“He’s not even going to be here this week.” Fatima looked at Rachel who had her eyebrows raised. “He might say yes,” Fatima insisted.

CHAPTER NINE

2010-02-05T12:53:00.002-05:00

Ali had already been up for over an hour and Fajr was approaching. Before going to his father’s house he stopped in the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Fatima would be awake in a little while and she loved her tea. He let it cool for a few minutes then poured it into a thermal cup and covered it. It would be just right for her now. She had a sensitive mouth and couldn’t eat or drink anything too hot.
He smiled when he thought of how much she still reminded him of that little eight year old girl he had met so many years ago. Even then she had been mature although she had been small for her age. She was as cute as a doll and smart too. Rachel had followed her everywhere. Of course he hadn’t thought about marriage at that age, but by the time he was 15 or 16 he was sure she was to be his wife. His parents had been pleased with his choice. Rahma had been so excited to have a ‘sister’ that she immediately started calling Fatima Sorella, the Italian word for sister.
Fatima had every positive quality he could imagine. If she had a negative quality it was that she tended to be a little emotional. He didn’t quite understand that side of her, it was so unlike the way he handled his life. They had agreed to ignore one negative trait of the other person, so he let it go.
There was one other thing he opted to give her a pass on. It was the thing that really drove him nuts. He hadn’t told her but he never understood how frazzled she would get when they had to get ready to go anywhere. She was usually so organized, but when she had to get dressed she lost it.
She couldn’t ever figure out what to wear. Clothes would be everywhere and she would get irritated with anyone who tried to hurry her. If she had to eat the kitchen would be a disaster. If she had to get the kids ready or apply make-up, good night. Wherever she went in the house would be turned upside-down. Forget about time. He was always ready first and waiting. Ali couldn’t get it. Just get dressed and go. She looked good in everything anyway. Still, he never mentioned it lest he amplify the confusion. The last thing he wanted was to slow her down.
Yes, her emotional nature disturbed him but it also made her more endearing to him. It made him want to protect her. Not just physically, but also emotionally. He wanted to protect her heart. He knew he had failed. He had let her down this time.
In all the years he had known her he had never seen her hurt or this upset because of him. It was unnerving. He had really messed up, and he knew it. If only he had intercepted the mail this whole thing would have gone down differently.
He shook his head to try and erase the memory of the look on her face when he had walked in the door after his run. Seeing her so disturbed had shaken him. He had tried to comfort her, but she wouldn’t let him near her. He lived to please her, see her smile, know that he had made her happy. Now he was the cause of her distress.
He would fix it. He had already spoken to Shawn. Shawn knew Ali well and he knew Fatima. He would know how to handle this in the best way. Ali trusted that.
Ali pulled a piece of paper from the drawer and wrote a single number on it. 7. In the corner he wrote 1/9. He placed the paper beside the cup of tea. Fatima would know that there were 9 papers to be found and she would have to find them all to decode the message. She loved this game the most and Ali loved initiating it. He wouldn’t be leaving until tomorrow but he sometimes took a head start with the notes. It kept Fatima on her toes.
Ali moved towards the door and reached for his shoes. Fatima’s size six shoes were beside his size 12. Even though she was half his size she was tough. He really enjoyed training her as a result. He knew that she believed that he was so adamant about her training because he was concerned about her safety, but that was only a small part of the truth. Ali had complete confidence in her ability to handle herself with or without formal training.
The spirit was the most important; far more important than any physical ability and underneath her soft emotional exterior she had the strongest spirit of anyone he knew, besides his mother. Rachel was the exact opposite. She had the natural physical advantage, but no heart. If she could put the two together she would be an awesome fighter.
The truth was training Fatima was a pure delight for him. She was a quick study; she listened well and wasn’t afraid to try new routines. He had to remember not to push her too much, because she never refused a challenge. She was strong, fast and could hit hard. When he sparred with her she really challenged him and he loved it. He wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of her fight, that was for sure.
Ali checked to make sure all was straight in the kitchen and walked out the door. The air was cool and crisp and he could hear the birds starting their song. It was one of his favourite sounds. He loved the way the earth slowly came to life at this time of the morning. If he ever happened to miss it, he felt off kilter until the next morning. He felt sorry for those who slept through this most precious time of day. He crossed the street to his father’s house.

He looked at the front porch of Rachel’s house and was shocked to see Rachel asleep in a chair. He approached the house and gently called Rachel’s name. She stirred and then opened her eyes.
“Rachel, what are you doing out here? You weren’t here all night were you?” Ali was really beginning to be very concerned about Rachel.
“Uh, yes, no. I just came out for some fresh air and I guess I fell asleep.” She sat up and rubbed her arms.” She was obviously cold. “What time is it?” she asked.
“It’s about 5:15. Are you ok?” Ali asked.
“I’m fine. I just had a lot of things on my mind. You know how it is.”
Ali nodded. He knew that Rachel had a lot of things going on in her life. It hurt him to see what she had been through. Still he wasn’t going to pry. It was better if she talked to Fatima about these things. He could see by her puffy eyes that she had fallen asleep crying. “Ok. You should go inside now. It’s cold. You’ll get sick.” He stepped forward and put one foot on the first step of the porch.
“I’m ok. I think I’ll do that in a minute.” She was still trying to gather her senses.
Ali shook his head. “I’m not leaving you out here and I’m not staying out here with you either.”
“Ok boss,” Rachel answered with mock sarcasm. She rose to her feet.
“You’re welcome to come in with me if you would rather not go home yet.” Ali motioned toward his parent’s house.
“Oh no, I shouldn’t. I mean I should go in case the boys get up or something, you know. Anyway, I would have to explain to your parents why I was out here in the first place.”
Ali shrugged casually. “It’s up to you.” He waited to see her turn in before he would leave his position at the bottom of the stairs.
Rachel stopped with her hand on the door. “Ali?”
“Yes.”
“Is everything ok with you?” Rachel asked.
“Sure. Why?”
“I just wondered. That’s all. Well, in case you ever need to talk or anything, I’m still here.” In that moment she realized how much she missed him. They used to have such a free and comfortable relationship.
Since he and Fatima had gotten married she could not remember having had one real conversation with him; not the way they had before. She always felt like things had changed somehow. Ali had become slightly distant. It was a subtle change, nothing obvious, but she could feel it. They had never discussed it, but the shift made her feel uncomfortable, almost silly in his presence. She hated it and longed for the kind of rapport they had enjoyed before. These few moments were like gold to her.
“Thanks Rachel. I know that,” Ali answered.
Rachel fluttered her eyes in surprise. “You do?”
Ali turned his eyes down, and replied, “Yes, I do.”
Rachel was a little caught off guard by his candid response. “Oh, ok then. Well, I’ll see you later.” Rachel pointed to her door. “I guess I’ll just go inside now.”
“Good idea.” He kept his eyes on the steps in front of him.
Ali waited until Rachel was safely in her house then he turned and walked toward his old home.

Inside his father was waiting for him by the door and they greeted each other with hugs and kisses. Ali noticed that his father held him a little tighter than usual and his mother was uncharacteristically quiet. Still they were both warm and loving. Rahma hugged him and kissed him as usual. They all prayed and Ali read a dua as they usually requested of him and Mama cried as she often did at the sound of his voice.
As soon as he felt the time was right Papa led Ali into his study. The study was decorated in the dark rich colours of brown and burgundy. The mahogany shutters matched the bookshelves and large desk that Papa worked from daily. “Sit son,” Papa said to him.
Ali pulled out a seat. There was one chair in the study reserved for him. It was a large black leather arm chair and the one most comfortable for him. Ali and Papa had had many important conversations in this room. Ali stood and waited for his father to seat himself behind his neatly organized desk and then followed suit.
Papa placed in front of him a printout from the internet. It detailed the story of the pending lawsuit. Ali dropped his shoulders. This was going to get messier than he expected and a lot faster than he could have imagined.
“Rahma does a search on your name every day. Maybe several times a day.” Papa laughed, and then he became serious again. “She found this last night.”
“Rahma, saw this? Oh no. I need to talk to her.” Ali was devastated that his little sister had read about the law suit.
“Wait, wait. Me first.” Papa patiently waited for Ali to speak.
“Papa, I’m going to see Shawn today and take care of this.”
Papa clasped his hands and brought them to his face. He looked over at Ali. His stare was intense. Finally he nodded. “And Fatima?”
Ali felt his chest tighten. “She’s upset.” He then went into the details of what had happened the day before.
“How could you let this happen?”
Ali was taken aback. “What do you mean? Papa, you know I didn’t expect this and there’s no way it can be true. Anyway, I told you I ‘m going to deal with this.”
“You should have protected Fatima from this. How could you let her find out like that?”
Ali stroked the arms of his seat. “Well, I didn’t know-”
“It’s your business to know what goes on in your house.”
Ali remained silent. His father was right. He had messed up and he knew it. His father’s disappointment was too much to bear. He looked down at the desk.
Papa continued, “So what now?”
“Well, like I said I’m going to see Shawn.”
Papa waved his hand in the air. “No, no I mean what about your wife? It matters little what happens with this case. Damage has already been done to Fatima. Can you imagine the shock that went through her body when she took that letter from your daughter’s hand? Do I need to remind you that she is pregnant and due in days?”
“No Papa. I know. I know everything.”
“Hmm, you do? So what will you do now?”
“I don’t know.” He really wasn’t sure how to reach Fatima. He couldn’t reverse what had happened and he wasn’t sure how she would be feeling this morning. It was a delicate situation. He wanted to reassure her, but he wasn’t sure if he may inadvertently cause her more distress by doing or saying the wrong thing.
Papa got up from his seat and walked over to his son. Ali started to stand. Papa motioned for him to remain seated and then held Ali’s face with one hand. He gently but firmly shook Ali’s head. “Is your name Ali Abati?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Are you my son?”
“Of course.”
“Then you will know what to do.” He released his hold and firmly patted the side of Ali’s face. before walking toward the door. Before he left he turned and said to Ali, “Remember your family is your world. Put your focus there.”
Ali remained seated for a long time after his father had left. He absorbed his father’s words. “It’s your business to know what goes on in your house,” he had said. Yes, he was the Imam of his home and responsible for everyone and everything in it. He had work to do for sure.
“Hey big brother,” Rahma said as she peaked into the study.
“Hey you, come here.” Ali swirled in the large arm chair and extended his hand. Rahma came and sat on his knee and put her head on his shoulder. Her mass of curly brown hair fell behind his back. She was tall, but she still enjoyed cuddling up to her brother as she had when she was a small child. “I am so sorry you had to see that stuff,” he said.
“Don’t worry I don’t believe a word of it. I know they’re all liars,” she said adamantly.
“Yah, and how do you know that?” Ali was moved by her loyalty.
“Well, I know you. I know you would never do something like that.” She looked him straight in the eye.
“You sure?” Ali asked her.
“Yes. I’m sure,” Rahma said, definitively.
Ali kissed her head. “Ok, I don’t want you to worry about it. I’m going to take care of it. I’m going to handle it.” Rahma listened intently. “Now in the next little while you might be hearing a lot of talk about this. I want you to ignore all of it. If you need to know anything you come straight to me. Got it?”
“Yes.” Rahma seemed relieved. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with love and admiration for her brother.
Ali continued, “Now what is this I hear about you doing searches on my name every day?”
“Well, not every single day, but I have to know what’s being said about you,” Rahma replied.
Ali rubbed her back. “Well, it’s the internet and anybody can write anything. It may not all be good for you to read. Hey, Mama let’s you spend that much time online?”
“She’s usually there with me, but sometimes she has her own work to do. Anyway she trusts me.”
“Well, I’m going to have to have a little talk with her,” Ali replied.
“Great, I think that’s my cue to leave.” Rahma stood up. “I love you Ali.”
“You too,” he replied.
Rahma left the room. Ali leaned forward and closed his eyes. He rubbed his hands over the top of his head. His short hair bristled under the movement of his fingers. He didn’t hear her enter but there was no mistaking a mother’s touch. Mama stood behind her son and slipped her hands onto his chest. Ali held her hands and squeezed, as though squeezing them could give him the strength he needed; the strength of his mother, and her mother and father, and all those that had gone before them.
Mama started speaking slowly. “You know when you were born, the midwife had said, ‘This chest, this is the chest of a warrior.’ She said she had never seen such a strong developed chest on a newborn. People walked from all the neighbouring villages to see this baby with the chest of a warrior. I prayed that day that God would fill your chest with love, compassion and bravery. Love for all that is good; compassion for all those fortunate to be in your care, and bravery to always do what is right. No matter what the cost. When you were given the name Ali and I learned who Imam Ali (as) was, I knew my prayers had been answered. Connect with your Holy Prophet and your Imams, all of them and learn from their examples. You will know what to do.
Ali stood and guided his mother into his seat then leaned on his father’s desk. “Thank-you Mama. You always know what to say.” He paused while he thought about what he wanted to say next. “Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly.” Her brown eyes remained warm.
“It might be personal,” Ali warned her.
“Go on,” she urged.
“If Papa ever hurt you, how did you get past it?”
Mama inhaled and let out her breath slowly. She looked at her son with sadness in her eyes. “It has never happened.”
“Really?” Ali was shocked and disappointed.
“Never. I wish I could help you.” She was truly sorry. “In 30 years of marriage your father has never hurt me. Confused me, yes. Frustrated me, sure. But he has never hurt my feelings or caused sadness or disappointment to enter my heart. Never. Not once.”
“Wow.” Ali didn’t know what else to say.
“Your father is a man of few words. You know that. He is an excellent listener. He thinks before he speaks and acts.” She laughed. “He would rather remain quiet and miss saying the right thing, than to speak and risk saying the wrong thing. It’s harder to hurt people when you behave like that.”
“Ok well, what if he had? What would you need to get past it?” Ali asked.
“Honesty, openness, vulnerability.” She reached for Ali’s hands again. “Fatima loves you. Desperately. Since her childhood. She wants her family. She wants her marriage. She wants you. That’s why she was so devastated by this news. Just reassure her that she still has all of that.”
Ali stood and lifted his mother off her feet. He hugged her and held her tightly to him. “Thank-you Mama. Thank-you”
“It was my deepest pleasure, my beautiful son.” He put her down and she kissed his chest.
“I think I need to go home now,” he said.
“It’s about time.” Her eyes sparkled.
Before Ali left the house they all hugged him again and sent their love to Fatima. He felt like he could take on the world.

When he arrived at home the smell of roses greeted him at the door. Knowing there were no roses in the house he realized that it must be the oil he had bought Fatima two days before. He walked through the foyer, down the hall and into the family room. When he entered the room he saw that Fatima had fallen asleep where she had prayed Fajr. That happened to her a lot these days since she was naturally tired being at the end of her pregnancy. He moved closer and he could see the empty tea cup by her side and one of her hands closed around the paper he had left on the counter.
Ali bent and gently lifted Fatima. Even with the added weight of her pregnancy she felt like nothing in his arms. She stirred. “Ali?”
Ali pulled back his head to look at her. “Who else would it be?”
“You’re silly,” she whispered.
“Shhh, shhh, sleep,” Ali said.
He brought her to their room, placed her in bed and tucked her in. “Fatima, I am so sorry for everything. I can’t imagine what you must have felt when you received that letter. I should never have allowed that to happen. I should have been the one to tell you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do or say anything to make it better for you. I was just so shocked myself. I didn’t really know what to say. I’m sorry I let you down. I am so sorry.”
Her breathing remained even and Ali was not sure if she had heard him or not. He got up to leave the room and as he walked through the doorway he heard her ever so softly say, “Thank you.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

2010-02-05T11:54:00.003-05:00

“Why don’t you ever get wet?”
“My job is to instruct. Your job is to swim.” Rachel walked along the side of the pool in her flip flops while Tracy and the other girls completed their warm up laps. Every few minutes she would glide her foot through the water. She could never be this close to a pool and not go in.
Tracy stopped swimming and started treading water. “I think it’s about time you feel how refreshing this pool is.” Tracy pulled her hand back, threatening to splash Rachel as she continued walking.
“If one drop of water touches me you’ll be doing extra laps, breast stroke.”
“After all these years you’re still no fun.” Tracy glided forward and resumed her gentle strokes inline with the other six girls on the team. Rachel had been coaching her since she was nine yrs old and the other girls almost as long. They were all Grade 11 and 12 students now. Though they were silly sometimes, when it came to the business of swimming they didn’t mess around. They held three national records to prove it.
Rachel continued to run the girls through various drills until 8 pm. As they were getting out of the water Rachel noticed a young man outside the exit door. When Rachel spotted him he stepped to the side. The giggling that was coming from the girls as they headed toward the change room told her that something was going on that she needed to investigate. She walked towards the door and opened it. “Hi, can I help you.”
“Waitin’ for Tracy,” he mumbled. Rachel raised her eyebrow and quickly processed what she had just taken in about this boy. Extremely baggy jeans rolled several times over untied sneakers, bandana hanging out of his back pocket, another one on his head, two ridiculously oversized t-shirts, at least three earrings, and tattoos travelling from his knuckles to his neck.
You can wait a little longer. Rachel thought. She slipped into the office and called Tracy’s mother. “Hi Mrs. Taylor. I’ll be driving by your house, would it be ok if I give Tracy a ride home?”
“Ofcourse, but I thought she was planning to go for pizza with some friends after practice.”
“Somehow I think she’s had a change of plans.” Rachel replied.

Rachel entered the change room just as the girls were getting dressed. Silence fell on the room as soon as she appeared.
“Tracy, I just spoke to your mom. She’s expecting me to drive you home. I’ll be out in five.” Before Tracy could answer Rachel left to get ready. Not on her life was she going to let one of her girls leave with that. What was Tracy thinking? The guy couldn’t even put a sentence together.
How Rachel wished she had someone to look out for her when she was that age. Girls just had no clue the kind of fire they were playing with. It’s all fun and games, until you’re left holding the dirty end of the stick. No matter how you warned them, every girl thought she was the exception. Rachel knew that from experience.

Later that night Rachel rocked herself in her chair. She often sat and looked out her window when she needed to clear her head. The night sky, moon and stars had a soothing effect on her. She loved the sounds of the night; the insects, the wind whistling through the trees, dogs barking and cars in the distance.
She had dropped Tracy home earlier and lectured her all the way. Tracy had told her that Troy was no one special, just a guy from the neighbourhood. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. These girls had no clue.
Rachel hugged a stuffed bear that her father had bought for her before she was born. She always held it when she wanted to feel close to him. For weeks after his death the bear still had his smell. Then one day she picked up the bear and could no longer smell him. The last real part of him was gone forever.
Her room was still decorated as it had been in her childhood. Soft hues of pink and purple dominated the space and in one corner of the room a huge mound of stuffed animals reached half way up the wall. The wallpaper was white with tiny pink flowers on it. Rachel remembered when her parents had decorated her room.
It had been a surprise Christmas present one year. In all these years she hadn’t changed anything. She still slept in a single bed. Many nights one or both of her sons would come to her room. They would all sleep together, or Rachel may leave them in the bed and spend the night in her chair.
It was late and she couldn’t sleep as usual. She had so many thoughts running through her head. She hadn’t told Fatima everything. She still had to go back to the doctor. The ultrasound had shown old scar tissue. The doctors were not sure how it would impact her reproductive health. Tears streamed down her face. She thought about her sons and Jamie and all that she had lost because of him. She knew that it wasn’t his fault. She had made the choices, but it had just been so hard. Everything in her life felt so hard.

Outside the street was quite. They lived on a long street that ended in a circle. It was great for the kids and felt very safe. There was one way in and one way out.
She tried to remember her father’s voice, the way he used to talk to her, read to her, and sing to her. Life had been so different after he died. Naomi had never been the same. The night that her father died was the last time Rachel had had a mother and a father. She had been orphaned on her 10th birthday and she had refused to celebrate another birthday since.
She had refused to leave the gravesite on the day of the funeral. Even though it had been raining she had stayed. She was only 10, but her mother had respected her decision. Fatima had insisted on staying with her. Ali’s parents had told Naomi and Dana, Fatima’s mother, to go back and take care of the guests at the house. Mama and Papa agreed to stay at the cemetery for as long as needed. They understood death and loss in a way that few others did.
They had stayed for hours in the rain. Rachel had wanted to pray for her father and Papa had encouraged her to do so. Those memories were so bitter sweet. She had suffered so much, but the comfort, support and strength she had garnered from the Abatis was unlike any other. Whenever she was in need they were there. She had never returned to the cemetery after that day. She couldn’t say good-bye twice.
She often wondered how her life might have been different if she had had her father or even her big brother in her life. Would Jamie have pursued her as he did if he knew that she had men looking out for her? She didn’t think so.
Ali had disapproved of Jamie from the start and the two had had several confrontations as a result. Yet Rachel had been weak enough to still let him through. She suspected that one of the reasons he usually came around at night was to avoid Ali. Only when Ali was travelling did he make daytime appearances and then with a lot of bravado attached to them.
Rachel hated those times the most because then Joshua and Jonah would see him and they would be so crushed when they didn’t get the attention that they so craved from him. After his departure Joshua would be sullen and withdrawn and Jonah would start having nightmares again. This time his nightmares were not connected to a visit from his father and Rachel did not know what to make of that. She wanted to heal her sons, but she didn’t know how to heal herself.
She hugged her bear tighter and rested her face on the animal’s now wet head. Some days she felt so scared. There were so many things she wanted to do, yet she felt blocked. She saw herself free from Jamie and living a life that utilized her talents and skills. She also hoped for a family of her own with a good role model for her sons. She knew that there was no reason for it, yet she couldn’t get through the wall that seemed to stand between her and her ideal life.
She thought about her boys and wondered how they would grow up to be men without their father. She feared what they would think of her if they ever found out what she had done.
The decision to terminate the first pregnancy had been made quickly. She had been a teenager and stressed out and all she knew was that she could not tell her mother. She had just wanted her life to go back to normal. She had only told Fatima about what was going on.
Of course Fatima had begged her not to do it. Fatima had not been married yet, so Rachel doubted that Fatima could even begin to understand what she was dealing with. Fatima had begged her to talk to Naomi. Rachel had refused. That would have defeated the purpose. She didn’t want her mother to know. Naomi had enough stress to deal with. Rachel would not put an added burden on her. She had turned to Fatima instead, but had not taken her advice.
She had thought about talking to Ali, to get the male perspective but she would have been mortified if he had known the truth. Still she felt if he had told her not to go through with it she may have listened. She remembered that during that time they had all taken a road trip with some friends. She had been very sick and Fatima was very attentive. Ali must have been concerned because at one stop when everyone had left the van to get food he had stayed back and asked her point blank, what was wrong.
“I’m sick,” she had replied.
“What kind of sick?” he had countered. His hard stare had really unnerved her. She had no reply. She had been saved by the other passengers returning to the van. She knew he must have considered all the possibilities but in the end there had been no baby so she assumed he had laid it to rest.
After everything was over Rachel had been surprised that she didn’t feel back to normal. Babies haunted her. She saw them everywhere and within a few weeks she was consumed by guilt. The due date of her baby became an obsession and when the day came she decided that she had to have another baby and she had to have one with Jamie. She knew it would not be the same baby, but she had to know what a possibility would be.
Unfortunately she had not realized that she had a problem. She didn’t speak to anyone about her feelings. She didn’t understand that she needed help in dealing with unresolved feelings.
Then Fatima got married and began travelling with Ali. Rachel had felt so alone. When Fatima became pregnant with Masuma Fatima was ecstatic. Ali hadn’t planned on starting a family so soon, but he warmed up to the idea quickly and was as happy as Fatima was. It was all too much for Rachel. She was pregnant almost immediately after Fatima had made her happy announcement. Joshua was born three months after Masuma.
Jamie had only visited Rachel once after Joshua’s birth. When she realized she was pregnant again she felt like such an idiot she couldn’t tell anyone. That’s when Jamie had started coming around incognito. Ali had promised that if he ever saw him in the neighbourhood he would make sure it would be his last visit. They all took him seriously. No one ever told Ali about Jamie’s visits when he was travelling.
The fourth pregnancy had completely caught her off guard. She hadn’t paid attention to the fact that she was feeling strange, and when she realized what had happened she was already three months pregnant. She thought seriously about what to do. She sat many times in this same window watching the street and imagining what her life would be like if she had a third child out of wedlock.
She was so ashamed. What would her friends think of her? How could she do this to another child? What if it was another boy? Oh God, what if it was a girl? She couldn’t handle it. Yet, she had promised never to do again what she had done before. Jaime had known about the first abortion and he had abused her terribly for it. He had called her a murderer on many occasions. All of that had stopped when she had Joshua.
She knew that no matter what she decided, she could not tell him what she had been considering. Then he had come by that night a few weeks ago and she had tried to tell him. He was shocked at the suggestion. He didn’t even want to hear that she might be pregnant. If she was, he had said, there was no way he believed it could be his child. He accused her of terrible things.
As she remembered she pressed her hands against her ears as if that could block out the memories of his harsh voice and stinging words. She had decided right then and there that she would not have the baby. She was not going down the same road with him and she was not going to regret it this time. She would just move on. Still she was devastated that she was in the same position again.
She looked out at Fatima’s house. When the lights went out she knew it was safe to go outside. She needed some fresh air and she couldn’t take a chance that Fatima or Ali would see her out alone that late. She placed the teddy bear back on her bed. She would wash her face and apply light makeup, just to feel good.
She laughed when she looked at herself in the mirror. “What’s the point? Who’s going to see me?” She asked herself. She quietly checked on her boys and then her mom. They were all sleeping peacefully. She tiptoed into the sometimes creaky hall and down the stairs.
Outside the cool night air snapped her back to the present. The wind whistling through the trees reminded her of a sad song. She pictured some gothic creature moaning as the wind carried them from tree to tree and she wondered why she so often felt driven to come out during the night. She locked the door and when she turned around to step off the porch her breath caught in her throat.
“Jamie,” she said breathlessly.
She felt her heart thumping in her chest and she held the railing to steady herself. She was terrified of him, but she was not going to let it show.
She lowered her head and asked evenly, “What are you doing here?”
He smiled easily. “I was in the neighbourhood. I came to see how you’re doing.” He was tall, about six feet. Rachel looked past his broad shoulders to the street. She didn’t see his car. She was quickly trying to think about the best way to get away from him. He was strong, she knew that, and each time he came around he seemed stronger. He had become obsessed with working out in recent years. The stairway was not too wide and his body blocked her escape on one side while he held the opposite railing with his hand.
“I’m fine as usual.” She tried to push past him, but knew that she could never do it if he did not allow.
“Not so fast. Where are you off to?” he asked, his voice laced with charm.
“I’m going for a walk. Now move.” Her voice didn’t sound as strong as she wanted it to. She looked past him at the garden that Ali had planted. Why did he have to be so regular? She thought. She wondered if she should scream. It had not been that long since Fatima’s lights had gone out. The street was quite. She was sure they would hear her. No. There was no reason to panic yet. Everything would be fine.
“You look a little thin compared to the last time I saw you. You stressed out or something?” His eyes travelled slowly form her face to her feet and Rachel had to shake to throw the chill off of her.
“Yah, single parenting will do that to you. Excuse me.” She grabbed his wrist. It felt like steel. She wondered what would happen if she grabbed his pinky finger and pulled it right off. Ali had always told them when outmatched by an opponent that they should not try to match strength but be prepared to attack weak spots.
“Slow down. Aren’t you going to let me in?” He stepped up one level.
Rachel glared at him. He was dark. She could see he had recently shaved his head and his dark eyes were piercing. Some would say he was handsome. She knew the other side of him and she didn’t want to deal with that now, not when she was barely coping with all that was on her mind tonight.
“Why in the hell would I let you into my house?” She surprised even herself. She had to start building her courage sometime.
Jamie was visibly taken aback. She had never spoken to him like that before and he obviously didn’t like it. He was used to getting his own way and he was going to come out on top one way or another tonight. He grabbed her face and squeezed it between his thumb and his four fingers. She could feel the sweat running down the back of her neck and tears burned her eyes. She would never give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
“You better watch your mouth, understand me?” He let go and slapped her face not too gently. “You know if I decide to go in you can’t stop me.”
Rachel put her hand to her face to stop her jaw from trembling. “The boys are sleeping,” she said in an almost pleading voice.
Jamie stepped closer to her. “That’s why you’ll be quiet.” Rachel clutched the railing so hard that her circulation cut off and her knuckles turned yellow.
Suddenly Jamie let out a short laugh. “I’ll give you and your nasty little attitude a pass tonight. I understand why you’re feeling a little out of sorts,” he sneered.
Rachel could feel her heart in her throat. Her breathing became strained. The cool breeze on her sweating body caused her trembling to intensify. What did he know she wondered? The seconds felt like minutes. She was frozen. Her body was so stiff it ached. She waited for him to continue.
“I guess you heard the news?”
“What news?” she asked, confused.
“Oh, you didn’t hear? Well it’s all over the internet. Seems the almighty Ali has finally taken a fall.”
Jamie let go of the railing and stepped back. He knew she wouldn’t go anywhere now.
“What are you talking about?” She started desperately searching his face as if she could pull the answers out of him.
“Seems like good little Ali is only good when he’s at home. On the road is another matter.”
“What do you mean?” Rachel was started to feel angry just hearing Jamie say Ali’s name.
“Apparently he has another kid out there somewhere.” Jamie leaned casually on the railing.
Rachel gasped. She would never believe it, and certainly not coming from Jamie. “Shut your mouth. You shut your dirty mouth!” She almost screamed at him, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jamie glared at her, but he was enjoying this too much to get angry. “Ok, see for yourself. He pulled out his phone, found a news site online and shoved the screen in Rachel’s face.
“Oh, my God.” The article confirmed what Jaime had said. “You loser, you came here just to tell me this. What are you?”
“He’s not looking so good now is he? Or maybe only to the likes of you.” She knew Jamie was holding back laughter and she just wanted to smack the smug look right off his face.
”I don’t believe this. This is garbage.” She pushed the screen away from her face. “It’s a lie. I’ll never believe this.”
“Whatever you say, babe. But keep watching. This show is going to get good.”
Rachel’s head was reeling. The letter from the lawyer, this must be what it was about. Fatima had not mentioned anything. Rachel wondered if she knew about it, yet. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” she kept repeating.
She turned to look at Jamie. He was reviewing the article and smiling. “What do you know about this?” she asked him.
“I know he’s finally going to be put in his place, that’s what I know.” Jamie replied. He was smiling from ear to ear.
“Get out of here.” She spat the words at him.
“With pleasure.” He backed down the steps. “But I’ll be back. You just remember who’s running things around here.” He turned and walked toward the street.
Rachel let out a nervous laugh. “Sure, that’s why you parked down the street?” She knew she had said too much. She was still trembling, but after the things Jamie had said about Ali she didn’t care. She would put herself at risk to defend him any day. She knew he would do the same for her.
Jamie whipped around at her comment and Rachel swore if he had not been so far away that she would have received a painful reminder of what it meant to cross him. He stood for a minute and the two of them stared each other down. Then he laughed and walked away.
His car was parked at least 150 metres up the street. She watched him walk away and when he got close the car started up. He had not come alone. She shuddered at the thought of being outside in the dark night with more than one thug at a time.
When he drove away she collapsed in a chair on her front porch. What was going on? It just seemed like everything was spinning out of control. Now this news about Ali; she didn’t know what to do with it. She definitely couldn’t sleep now and it would be hours before she could call Fatima to ask her what was going on. She just curled up in the chair and waited for the sun to come up. She would call Fatima at the first light of day.

CHAPTER SEVEN

2009-11-24T23:08:00.002-05:00

Ali stared at the paper in his hand.
Fatima was speechless. She couldn’t even think of what to say. She just prayed he would have some explanation to make this all go away.
“What is this?” Ali looked up.
“Can’t you see what it is?” Fatima pressed her temples with her finger tips.
“This was in my drawer?” Ali asked.
“This is the letter that came on Friday. The one you took and obviously put in your drawer.” Fatima could not believe he was going to act like he didn’t know what he was looking at.
“I never saw this.” He said shaking his head.
“Ok, so it walked to your drawer.” Fatima’s level of frustration was growing.
“No, I mean I took the mail to our room to read it and then the girls woke up so I just put all the mail in the drawer. I never actually read anything.”
“It’s open Ali.” Fatima linked her fingers behind her head and leaned back into her chair.
“Where is the envelope?” he asked.
Fatima showed him the envelope on her desk. “It’s right here.”
Ali took it from Fatima. “I would open mail like this? Obviously the kids opened it. Fatima, this is the first time I’m seeing this, really.”
“Ok whatever, that’s beside the point.” Fatima fanned her hand in the air. “What’s this about a paternity suit?”
“I have no idea what this is about.” Ali looked at the letter again. “I can’t believe this.”
“That’s not exactly what I need to hear right now.”
“Fatima this is not even possible. This is crazy. You have to know that. It’s obviously a mistake.”
Fatima inhaled and exhaled heavily. She got up and started to pace the floor. She passed the sun shaped mirror on the wall above the fire place. She could see Ali’s reflection in it. He looked distressed as she would expect, but he wasn’t saying anything that was helping her at this moment.
“Fatima, come on sit down. Please don’t be upset by this. You don’t think for one second that this could be true?” Ali asked.
“Oh well I don’t know, lawyers offices don’t usually send out mail notifying law suits that have no validity. This is a reputable law firm. They’re not going to risk their reputation on some nut case. They have to do interviews and see evidence. They need to do some investigation before they take on a case like this. You’re not some Joe Blow. You are a well known athlete; with money. They’re not going to take a chance like this, Ali.”
“I know. I know.” Ali’s voice was almost a whisper.
“So what are you saying?” Fatima asked him. “This is some crazy woman who forgot who her child’s father is and just woke up and decided it should be you?” Fatima was starting to feel light headed.
“Of course not.” His voice was gentle. “Fatima, I hate what this is doing to you. You should calm down. Let me get you some water.”
“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine. I don’t need water. I just need some answers right now.”
“I wish I had answers for you. I don’t understand this at all. I have no clue what’s behind this. I’ll call Shawn in the morning and deal with this.”
Shawn was Ali’s childhood friend. He was a diligent and focussed young lawyer who had quickly worked his way up to one of the top law firms in Toronto. Many firms had been vying for him and he had decided to work for a small but busy firm just outside of the downtown area.
“You will deal with this. Oh so easy.” Fatima sat back in her chair.
“Fatima, I don’t know who this woman is, and even if I did her child can’t be mine.” He pointed towards the door leading to the basement. “I have three children and they’re all downstairs.” Ali stated in a voice so calm Fatima wondered if they were really discussing the same subject.
“Think Ali, think.”
Ali's face dropped. “About what? There is only you. No one else. Not before you and not after you. Fatima, I don’t have to think about that.” Fatima knew she should believe him, but with this letter in front of her how could she?
“Why not call Shawn now?” Fatima looked at Ali hopefully. She needed some answers.
“It’s Sunday and he’s gone to a wedding.” Ali reached out to touch Fatima’s arm in a reassuring gesture. She pulled away.
“He has a cell phone.”
“Fatima, I understand how you feel,” Ali moved closer to her, “but he can’t do anything about it today. Really, I’ll talk to him in the morning.”
“Well, I’m happy you’re taking it so lightly.” Fatima stepped around him and sat on the steps leading to the upper level.
“I’m not taking it lightly. You think I’m taking this lightly? I have a family. My wife is pregnant and we get this.” Ali shook the letter in his hand. “I see this as a threat to my family. Trust me I’m not taking this lightly, but I don’t know anything more than what is on this paper.” He looked at Fatima and added “and that I don’t have any kids except ours.”
“Why do you think someone would do something like this?” Fatima asked.
Ali sat down on the chair that Fatima had left vacant and leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees, “I don’t want to speculate. I don’t know what to think. I’ll speak to Shawn tomorrow and see where we go from here.”
“So you didn’t know about this letter, but the law office just happens to be in Ottawa and that is where you happened to go the other night and couldn’t tell me? Do you think it’s reasonable for me not to draw a connection?”
“My trip had nothing to do with this.”
“Oh that’s wonderful!” Fatima threw her hands up in the air. “More surprises. Do you realize how this is looking to me?”
“Of course I do, but Fatima there is no way this can be true. I have never heard this woman’s name before today. I don’t know her, or any other woman for that matter and I’m going to get to the bottom of it starting tomorrow. I promise you.”
Fatima held her head up. “It’s a boy.”
“What?” Ali jerked his head.
“The child in question is a boy. Look at the letter.” Fatima pointed at the paper in Ali’s hand.
“It has nothing to do with me,” Ali said ignoring the letter and keeping his attention on Fatima.
“Well, apparently it does because the letter is addressed to you,” she snapped.
“It’s not my boy, Fatima.” Ali stood and moved toward her, but Fatima held him at arm’s length. He continued speaking. “Listen I get it ok, it’s disturbing news. It’s enough to jack up anybody, never mind when you’re pregnant.”
Fatima refused to answer him. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted him to say, but she knew what he was offering was not enough.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I know how hard it is for you to be married to me. I do. I’m on the road constantly while you’re alone at home with the girls. Or you have to rearrange your life to travel with me. I know it’s not easy. It’s hard for me too. Now you’re pregnant. I think about it all the time. Honestly, if I could give you something more, you know I would. This is as shocking to me as it is to you.”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell at all?”
“No Fatima,” he insisted. Ali sat down again and turned his attention back to the letter.
“Swear to me.”
As soon as the words left her mouth she realized the impact that they would have. Swearing was a very serious thing and strongly disapproved of in Islam. In addition to that, the suggestion that she didn’t believe him would be very serious to him. Ali squinted and knit his brow as he absorbed the meaning of her words. “Fatima-” he started.
“Forget it,” Fatima interrupted him, flashing her hand in his direction.
“You know what,” Ali exhaled and rose to his feet. “I’m going to call Shawn. At least I can leave a message.”
“Thank you, Ali.” Fatima finally felt some relief. At least he was taking some action.

Ali disappeared to the upper levels of the house. She knew he was offended at the suggestion that she didn’t believe what he had said. One thing that Ali took very seriously was any suggestion that he may be lying. If he said it was so, he expected you to take him at his word. He always gave people the benefit of the doubt until he knew different. She was sounding like she doubted him and she knew that was a serious thing to him.
What did he expect? There were definitely some missing pieces here. After all, this was all being dumped in her lap. She didn’t go looking for it. She had exams in two weeks and all this was now on her head. She felt her baby moving as her body started to relax and her breathing returned to normal. What affect was all this having on her child? She was seriously stressed out. She knew she should trust him, but she could not get rid of that nagging feeling that something bad, very bad was going to happen.
Really, how could someone think of accusing the wrong person of fathering their child? DNA would prove them to be a liar, so what could be gained by filing a false claim? There was still the matter of Ottawa; if it wasn’t about this case then what was it about? What was so urgent and secret?
True, Ali had never given her any reason to doubt him at all. He was always sincere, almost transparent. That’s why she had married him. She had always felt so secure with him. It was something she had lacked growing up. She remembered her childhood and Ali as a boy. He never lied, even when he knew it meant he would be in trouble.
From their first meeting Fatima had spent most of her free time in the Abati household. She didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Rachel was like a sister to her. Rachel had had an older brother and sister, but they never paid much attention to the two girls. Fatima’s mom Dana was working all the time and her father who had separated from Dana when Fatima was small was not very involved in Fatima’s life.
Fatima was left on her own a lot. The Abati home had had a sense of comfort in it. She had not realized then but the family had been through the worst experience possible yet they were still warm and loving, happy and always giving to others.
When they had moved in they had introduced themselves to all the neighbours and had become the parents of all the neighbourhood children. Their door was usually unlocked during the day; people were always in and out of their home.
Ali had been a quiet child. He was a good student but had put most of his spare time and energy into sports. Fatima later realized that it had been an outlet for him. He held a lot of pain inside and it was a way for him to release it. He had lost his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, neighbours and friends. Fatima shuddered at the thought.
What if her girls had lost Mama and Papa, Rahma, Naomi, Rachel, Joshua and Jonah in one sweep? How would they function? How could they ever be happy again? Could they have any joy in life? How could they ever love or trust again?
Fortunately, Mama and Papa had been strong. They had built a life that was stable and full of love for Ali. Routine was an important part of their life. Mama was a smart woman and she had insisted that it was what he needed to feel secure. He had had all security ripped away from him and she had worked very hard to recreate that feeling in his life. So he had healed.
Or so Fatima had thought, but sometimes she could see the old pain. Sometimes he would sit for long periods of time and just stare. She never asked him what he was thinking about. She was afraid to know. She wanted to be supportive, but she just couldn’t bear to hear about the horrors that she imagined he had been through. She felt guilty about it sometimes, like perhaps she was letting him down by not being there for him completely.
Still he was always pleasant, positive, warm and kind to everyone. He had once told her that focussing on others helped him to feel alive. It blocked the pain and gave him an excuse not to think about himself. He had been a man even then, and was deeply affected by the fact that he could not stop what had happened to his family in Rwanda. He had vowed that he would never allow something like that to happen again.
At school he had not taken many close friends; he was friendly with everyone but when he left school he preferred to be alone. His classmates always wanted to play with him and the boys frequently wanted to fight with him. They loved to test their strength. Ali would usually refuse, but if he had to he could definitely hold his own.
He had focussed much of his energy on martial arts and had become a four time champion in mixed martial arts. One of his favourite past-times was archery and when he was stressed out he usually spent time in that sport. He had introduced Shawn to it as well so he would have someone to compete with when the mood took him, but he usually went alone.
Yes, he had been an all-round athlete and the passion and drive that he put into sports really moved Fatima. In his daily life he was calm, controlled, pensive, but when he was on the court, in the pool or on any kind of field he changed. Another person emerged. He was aggressive and intense. It made Fatima wonder about the emotions that he kept inside.
Well, Fatima thought, it was good that he released his emotions somehow. His parents had tried to get counselling for him, but he had refused to talk to any counsellor, at all. He said he didn’t need it. But he used to talk to Fatima and Rachel, never about the past but about his future, all his plans. He talked about how he was going to take care of his parents and his family when he had one. Fatima had wanted to take care of him even then. He had seemed so sad to her. Taking care of his family had been so important to him. He wanted to make up for what he had lost.
He had been serious and disciplined from that time. His parents had given him a lot of freedom because they trusted him. Indeed he was always where he said he was going to be and doing what he said he was going to be doing. He was never one to hang out. He took care of his business and went home. If his parents had said no to him concerning something he wanted, he accepted it. During his teenage years when most kids were going through internal and external turmoil he just played harder. He poured all his excess energy into sports.
Papa had often taken Rachel and Fatima to his events and the two girls became influenced by his activities. They had wanted to be athletes too. Rachel had taken up swimming and had been on a swim team throughout high school. Fatima had loved running and martial arts. Most of her training had come from Ali. He had started teaching when he was 16.
He had insisted that she pursue at least one form and she had received a black belt in tae kwon do by the age of 18. Ali was not satisfied. He wanted her to be proficient in a variety of forms and he continued to train her. He allowed her three months rest after she had her babies, then it was back to work. He had already started training his daughters. It was very important to him that they had the confidence to stand up for themselves when necessary. He knew he wasn’t going to be there always to protect them and the thought seemed to disturb him sometimes.

Fatima walked to the French doors that faced the backyard. They were framed by matching window panes. She stepped into the bay and looked out at the two fountains and the birds that always danced in the water. She remembered the day her mother had told her that Ali wanted to marry her. He had told his parents of his intentions and they had spoken to her mother. Dana definitely thought Fatima was too young. Ali’s father had convinced Dana that they were good kids and that if Ali could prove that he was responsible then he would give his blessings. They would support the young couple and Papa believed they would be fine. “It’s better to be with one than many,” he had said.
It had not been hard for Fatima’s mom to accept Ali, she had loved him already. He was so different from the other boys. Because he was two years older than Rachel and Fatima she had always felt the girls were very safe when they were with him.
In the end when Dana had seen the path that Rachel had taken and what had happened to her and Jamie she realized that early marriage and family was not the worst that could happen to a girl. Rachel’s children had been born close to Fatima’s. Joshua was just three months younger than Masuma and Jonah had followed soon after.
Ali had prepared well for his marriage with Fatima. When he had the chance to play professionally it was an opportunity he couldn’t refuse. The freedom and income it would give him would enable him to do all the things he had dreamed of.
He had adjusted well to playing professional basketball and he and his father had bonded in the year that they had travelled together. Papa said he was truly proud of the way Ali had handled himself. His prayers were always on time. It was in his contract that he be given time to pray wherever he was. He never played on the days of Eid or on the 10th of Muharram. The other players had grown to love him too and respect his commitment to his values.
They often congregated in Ali’s room after games if they wanted to get away from the pressures of the road. They knew it was a place where they could find peace and be free to be themselves. They had enjoyed hanging out with Papa and Ali. Papa had said many of them had not had fathers themselves and had appreciated his presence and guidance. Nowadays many of the players, even the ones much older than Ali confided in him and sought advice from him.
Ali had saved most of his money and bought the house across the street so they could remain close to their families. Since Fatima’s mother was an archaeologist, and often travelling, her house remained empty most of the time. Being across the street enabled Ali and Fatima to watch over it.
Naturally Ali could have bought a much bigger and more luxurious house, but securing his future and the future of his family was far more important than enjoying the pleasures of today. He had a comfortable home, they had good cars and nice things, but he was always very careful about the way he spent his money. They had a property about one hour out of town. He and Fatima were looking forward to enjoying it as a getaway when the construction on their home was finished.
The only weakness he had was when it came to his wife. He made sure she had whatever she wanted. Fortunately for him she thought the same way that he did and was focussed on building their future. He always joked that if she had been a more demanding woman he would have been in the poor house.
The first year of their marriage had been pure fun. They had enjoyed travelling together. While most of Fatima’s friends were in university or working, she was travelling across North America with Ali. While her friends were trying to juggle jobs and school and explore new and sometimes dangerous freedoms, she was settled in her beautiful home with her doting husband.
The other players were initially disappointed to hear that Papa was no longer going to be a regular and they wondered how their night-time sessions would be affected now that Ali’s wife was going to be with him. Many of them were not used to being around a woman in hijab and did not know what to expect.
Fatima had immediately put them at ease and had encouraged them to continue to crash with them. Ali always had a room with a separate bedroom so she could have her privacy. The rule was that they could come over anytime. They should call first but if they couldn’t they were welcome to just knock on the door. Fatima saw firsthand the trials of the profession and she wanted them to have a safe place if they needed to get away from it all.
It was really something to see those big tough guys crash on Fatima’s hotel room floor and talk about their deepest feelings fears and wishes. Sure there was a lot of joking and rough housing too, bragging and game commentaries included, but there were many moments of open sharing. Especially when there was only one or two team mates present at a time.
Many of the wives had come to know Fatima as well. On occasion a wife had called her to inquire about her own husband’s conduct. Fatima never revealed anything. She had a standard answer prepared. She always told them that she understood the pressures of the road and she made it a rule not to mind anyone’s business but her own. The players loved her even more for that.
When she had Masuma and couldn’t travel as much they all vowed to keep Ali in line for her. They sometimes even called her to see if she was ok. It was funny the way they treated Ali. They were sometimes just as aware of his duties as he was himself. They reminded him to pray and they always let him know that they had their eye on him.
Because of the stories that Mama had heard about life on the road, she had formed a network with the mothers of some other ball players called Moms Away. It was a network of mothers in various cities. The players knew that if they needed a mom while they were on the road they had one. They could call and talk or get a home cooked meal, or just a safe place to stay. Naturally the Abati home was a favourite.

Now Fatima thought about Ali being upstairs and wondered what he was doing. He must have made the call already. She knew she had hurt him. The worst thing for a Muslim to be was a liar. The suggestion that he may not be telling the truth was like questioning his Deen-religion and that would have been unacceptable to him.
She went down stairs to check the girls. They had fallen asleep. “Oh, poor things.” Fatima’s heart was breaking. “They must have been traumatized,” she whispered. She pulled some blankets over them and climbed the stairs to talk to Ali. She found him in the study in front of the computer.
She walked behind him so she could see the screen. He was looking at a course calendar. He usually took University courses during the summer, either in night school or online. He was pursuing a degree in Leisure and Recreation. Fatima was surprised to see him looking at the calendar now because he had said he wasn’t going to take any courses this year. “I thought you weren’t going to study this summer,” she said.
“I reconsidered,” Ali answered without turning around.
“Ali.”
“Fatima,” he replied, while keeping his eyes on the screen.
“It’s never hard for me to be your wife. You’re the most important thing in my life. You are my life. I just get scared sometimes.”
Ali turned around and pulled another chair close to him. He motioned for her to sit. She sat in the chair and waited for his response.
“I can understand that.” He reached for a stool for her to rest her feet on, and continued, “What are you afraid of?”
“Just losing everything.”
“How would that happen?” He leaned forward waiting for her to speak.
“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll grow apart. Maybe one day this baller lifestyle will just transform you and we’ll end up like all the other players and their wives.”
Ali nodded and Fatima could see that he was thinking. He leaned back in his chair.
“What do you think I do when I’m away from home?” he asked.
Fatima shrugged her shoulders. “Play ball?”
“And?” Ali prompted.
Fatima shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“I think. I think about my life, my responsibilities and my girls; all of my girls. I think about you, our babies, my mom, Rahma. My father is not going to be here forever and then it will all be on me. I have to make sure that everyone has what they need, is safe and happy. That’s what I think about, how I’m going to do that, how I’m going to make that happen. Do you really believe I have time to mess with my life, my family, my future?”
“That’s not fair Ali. Don’t flip this on me.” Fatima resented the direction she felt him going in. Now he was making it seem like she was in the wrong. “How do you expect me to react under these circumstances?”
Ali rubbed his face as he watched his wife. “I’m going to be going on the road again in a few days. How can I feel comfortable to do that if you doubt me?”
“I don’t... I’m not... I didn’t... I’m not sure what to think right now.” Fatima was starting to feel drained.
Ali let out a short laugh and stood up. “Do you know how that makes me feel? All of this is for you. My work, the money, the sacrifice, everything is for you. If you’re at home and stressed out about me then it’s not worth it. I had no idea you felt this way. I thought we had an understanding. I thought everything was ok. Now I find out that an accusation from someone we don’t even know can tear it all apart? I must really be doing something wrong.”
“So what now?” Fatima asked.
“Well, I guess that’s on me. I left a message for Shawn to call me immediately and I’m going to move on this letter tomorrow, but it’s not just about the letter. It’s deeper than that. Next time it will be something else. How we handle the next challenge is going to depend on the foundation we have as a couple. That’s what I’m concerned about.”
“Ok. So what are you saying?” Fatima stroked the arms of her chair.
“I’m saying I got a wakeup call today. I realize I just can’t take anything for granted.” He walked around the room.
“I just thought your reaction was kind of strange. You seemed so calm.” Fatima said, following him with her eyes.
“Yes, I’m calm. You know why? Because it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. These issues, these challenges, they come and go. I can handle whatever comes at me. It only matters to me if it affects you. Otherwise I’ll just deal with whatever happens. That’s life.”
Fatima didn’t answer. Hearing him put things like that; she didn’t know what to say.
“Let me ask you this.” Ali sat in his chair again and pulled it forward. “Take this situation for example. What’s the worst thing that can happen? For you what would be the worst thing?”
Fatima thought about it before replying, “Well, if it was true I guess.”
“And so what? So what if it was true, what’s going to happen? Are you going to die? You think Allah can’t get you through it?” Ali asked her.
“What are you saying?” If he was trying to make her feel better, he was taking the wrong approach.
“I’m showing you how I keep things in perspective. If you realize that your worst fear is nothing then you can release the fear. Even if the worst happens, you’ll get through it. Allah wants what’s good for you. Not just good, actually, best. You have to trust Him, Fatima. You don’t need to work everything out for yourself. I don’t even try. I just put it in Allah’s hands and leave it there.”
She felt ashamed. She knew what he was saying was true, and compared to what he had been through in his life, this really was nothing. Why should he freak out?
Ali continued, “The situation is only as bad as you make it.”
“What would be the worst thing for you? In this situation,” Fatima asked him.
“The worst thing would be if it upsets you and if it hurts our marriage.”
“Would you die?” Fatima was teasing him now, but she was still eager to hear his answer.
He gave a half smile. “A part of me would die, yes. But I would take whatever I could learn from it and use it to improve. Part of self-building is being the master of your emotions.”
Fatima remained silent. Ali certainly was getting very good at mastering his emotions. She was having difficulty reading him right now. Was he trying to tell her that she didn’t have anything to worry about or was he saying that she might, but she should choose not to worry? She was not quite sure. She surely did not want to believe that she should worry but she still had that ominous feeling.
Fatima fixed her eyes on Ali. She needed to be able to see the slightest waver when she asked this question. “Do you know what I keep thinking about? That one time, I don’t know maybe it was more than one time, that you asked me to join you on the road and I didn’t go. I thought I couldn’t. I just wasn’t feeling well and I had exams. You just asked me out of the blue and I never asked you why.”
Ali held her gaze. “It was one time and I understood that. It was not a problem.”
“But I never asked you why.” Fatima couldn’t help wondering if she had made a mistake; made a mistake by not going with him, made a mistake by becoming comfortable with him travelling by himself. She remembered the first year that they travelled together. She knew exactly what the dangers were. I have three kids, how can I keep up with him? She sighed. Ali hadn’t wanted to start a family when she did. She had pushed for that.
Ali shook his head. “Why I wanted you to come? There is only one reason and it’s always the same. You’re my wife and I wanted you with me. That’s all. I just missed you. The same as always. There’s nothing else.” Ali held out his hands to emphasize his last statement.
Fatima sighed and stood up. She was well aware how much of ‘nothing’ happened on the road. “Ok Ali, I’m exhausted. I’m going to lie down.”
“What about the girls?” he asked as Fatima walked toward the door.
“They fell asleep in the basement; you can put them in bed if you want. I would just leave them though. I already covered them with a blanket.”
Fatima headed toward her bedroom. Looking over the railing, she caught site of the flowers in the foyer as she walked down the hall. She then turned back. “Ali, you know your mom has been really quiet these last few days.”
Ali turned away but Fatima could see him clench his jaw. “Well, it is April,” he said.
Fatima had forgotten. April was the anniversary of the start of the genocide in Rwanda. Every April Mama became very sombre. Her mood usually lasted for a few weeks. At that time she would pour all her energy into the garden. The summer would show the fruit of all her work. She had the most beautiful garden on the street. “Ali, I forgot, I am so sorry.” She started to walk back toward him, but he held up his hand.
“Don’t worry. Go rest,” he said.
Fatima turned and headed to her room. Before she closed the white double doors she looked towards the study. She could see that Ali had pulled away from the desk, his elbow on his knee. He was rubbing his forehead against the palm of his hand. Now the events of the day really did seem small indeed.

CHAPTER SIX

2009-11-04T14:18:00.005-05:00

The next morning when Fatima woke up the sun was shining. She had woken up for Fajr-the first prayer of the day, prayed and gone back to sleep. She had no problem waking up early these days. When she was pregnant she found it very difficult to sleep in and she was usually up bright and early. She had spoken to Ali at that time. He had called from Ottawa at about 6 am.
He had tried to sound normal, but Fatima had thought he sounded preoccupied. She hadn’t asked him about his plans and he didn’t offer any information. He just made sure she was alright and reassured her that he would be back in the evening as he had promised. He wasn’t impressed that she had slept on the couch. “That can’t be comfortable.”
Nothing about this is comfortable, she had wanted to say, but instead she had just said that she had been so tired she really didn’t want to tackle the stairs and she had felt lonely.
“It’s not the same when you’re not here,” she confessed.
“You didn’t look for the notes,” Ali mentioned.
“How do you know?”
“Because I left instructions and if you had found them I would have known.”
Fatima really appreciated these rituals. They made her feel somewhat normal. Even though their life was hectic there were a few things she could always count on. Ali leaving her notes around the house when he travelled was one of them.
He was not a talkative person. She admired that about him. She was impressed with his degree of reserve. He was open with her, but with few words. She had learned to be more silent too as a result. She often had to figure out what he was thinking and feeling by paying attention to his actions as much as his words, what he said and what he didn’t. When he was in the company of others he was more of an observer than a talker.
Fatima detested men who had to be the centre of attention. Her opinion was that if you were talkative, eventually you would say something that you shouldn’t. The more you talked the more likely that was to happen. Ali was rarely in danger of that. When he spoke it was usually valuable otherwise he wouldn’t bother. So she really cherished these little messages that always seemed to be right from the heart. They gave her more insight to the man she shared her life with.
He was right about her not looking for the notes. She was tired yes, but she was upset too. She just didn’t feel like playing with him. She was confused about his behaviour. She had an active imagination and could not help trying to figure out possible reasons for his trip. It was frustrating not to have any good possibilities. Anyway it was daylight now and she would go get her daughters and start the day. It was Saturday and she had no real plan so she would just play it by ear.

When she arrived at number 110 the house seemed uncharacteristically quiet. She tried the door and it was open. It often was at this time of morning. It was April and Mama had a beautiful garden. After Fajr she often spent hours in the garden. The door would be unlocked because she would be coming in and out.
“As-salaam alaikum ya Rasoolullah,” Fatima said as she entered the house. Rahma was the first to greet her. She ran to Fatima, hugged and kissed her using her special name for Fatima, the Italian word for sister.
“As-salaam alaikum, Sorella. We were worried about you. I don’t think Papa slept all night. Come look.”
Fatima followed Rahma into the living room which the family used as a prayer room. There was nothing in it except wall to wall carpet, large cushions lining the walls, two tall book cases at one end of the room and a low table at the other end that held a stand for reading the Holy Quran. The room was painted in a beautiful earth tone and decorated with a few large plants.
“He fell asleep right after Fajr.”
Papa was lying on the floor with the three girls on top of him. Laila and Batool were on his chest and Masuma rested with a pillow on his leg.
“Figures Masuma would think to get comfortable. How were they last night?”
“Fine, they were all played out so they slept pretty well. They got up at Fajr, but I guess they were still tired because they conked out immediately after.” Rahma waved her hand at the sleeping girls.
Fatima stood in the foyer watching them. “I’m torn. Should I wake them or let them sleep?”
“Leave them, for sure. Come, let’s go to the back.”
They went to the back of the house where there was a large sunroom. It was warm and sunny for April and Mama was working in the backyard. The girls laughed and chatted for a while enjoying the fresh morning air. When she heard them Mama left her work and came to keep them company for a while.
“Did you speak to Ali this morning?” Mama removed her gloves and placed them on the chair beside her.
“I did.”
“Hmm. He snuck out of here without seeing me.”
Fatima could tell that she was not pleased, but she didn’t go on. Mama was so careful around Fatima now that she was pregnant. She always insisted that the happiness of a pregnant woman should be the top priority of the family. Every experience, emotion and thought that she had would have a physical manifestation and impact on the unborn child, Mama always said. It became a part of him or her. She always insisted that Fatima should be cared for and stress free during this time.
Rahma quickly changed the subject. “Mama, you should see Papa. He’s sleeping and the girls are all around him. It’s so cute. I should take a picture.”
Mama smiled. “You know I think he was in that room all night. He said he couldn’t sleep knowing you were alone. I had to pry his shoes off.”
“As-salaam alaikum, Piccolina.” Papa had called Fatima Piccolina, little doll, from the first time he had met her. He entered the sunroom and stood beside Fatima’s chair.
Wa alaikum as-salaam, Papa. I’m not so tiny any more. I think I grew overnight.”
“Yes, I see, but you are still a doll. Come sta lei, mio caro?-How are you my dear?”
“Alhamdulillah,I’m ok, thanks.”
“So, when is your husband coming back?” Mama asked.
“Mama, you know he said this evening,” Papa replied and gave her a scolding look.
“Well, I wanted to hear from his wife, since he didn’t bother to tell his mother anything.” Mama pursed her lips, showing her discontent.
“Oh Mama, he didn’t want you to worry.” Papa hugged Mama and gave Fatima and Rahma a wink.
Fatima realized in that moment how much Ali was like his father and she was grateful that he had such a good role model.
“He’s a grown man. He’ll be just fine.” Papa added.
Mama sat at the wrought iron table. “It’s not nice to leave Fatima like this. She’s due any minute. He spends enough time away as it is.” Fatima could see the wheels in Mama’s head turning. She wasn’t saying much, but Fatima knew she was running through all the possibilities, just as she had. The thought made her uncomfortable.
Papa insisted, “We’re all here. She has everything she needs.”
“Except her husband.”
“What are you all doing today?” Fatima wanted to talk about anything but Ali’s absence.
Papa rubbed his greying head and sighed. “I have a lot of work to do.”
Papa worked for a non-profit organization called Children of Rwanda. It was based in his homeland, Italy, but he was able to do much of his work by internet and on the phone. During the massacre many Rwandan children had been air lifted to Italy and placed in homes with Italian families.
Many had been adopted and in the years after the massacre the Italian and Rwandan governments had ongoing negotiations about the status of the children. Rwanda said the adoptions were illegal. The Italian families had no permission from family members or the government to adopt the children. Italy had insisted that the adoptions were in order.
Unfortunately many of the children had no family to return to. Some of them did have families that had demanded their children back. Having left as babies many of the children knew only the Italian families as their own. It had been a very sensitive situation.
In the years since the genocide many children had been returned and many had remained in their adopted families after returning to Rwanda to perform the adoptions satisfactorily. Still there were ongoing issues, such as maintaining cultural identity, keeping in contact with living family members, trips home and dealing with the integration of the Rwandan children into Italian society.
Hundreds of thousands of children had been orphaned following the 1994 genocide, according to statistics from the Ministry of Gender in Rwanda. The number of children in Rwanda who had been orphaned or were otherwise considered vulnerable was anywhere from one to three million. Papa was currently working on an assessment to determine the number of children living on the streets and their needs.
Papa had been active in the cause from the beginning and continued to build a large organization that also offered sponsorship and support to children in Rwanda and their families.

“You know what I have to say about that.” Mama’s eyes sparkled.
“Yes Mama.” They all repeated Mama’s famous line, “If they want African babies let them make their own.”
“Not everyone is as lucky as me,” Papa was always quick to reply.
He was lucky indeed. Italy had one of the lowest birth rates in the world, with two children and a fourth grandchild on the way, Papa was rich beyond imagination.

Fatima spent the day with the family, talking to Rahma and watching her daughters play in the yard. She even helped Mama with some of the gardening, as much as she was allowed.
It was still early to start planting, but Mama would get the soil ready and spend time in her greenhouse where she had seedlings waiting to be transplanted when the fear of frost was gone.
Fatima couldn’t think of going back home right now. The day flew by quickly and when Papa emerged from his study Fatima couldn’t believe that it was already 4 pm. Ali would be home soon.
“Mama, maybe I should go home now and wait for Ali.”
“Why not eat with us, and then go? It’s only another hour. Go and have a nap. I’ll wake you when he gets here.”
“Are you sure? The girls are pretty wound up. I don’t want to leave all that work on you.”
“Papa is free now. You know him. He’s at their service. Go, they won’t even miss you.” Mama was right. Fatima looked out the window to the back yard. Papa was already there chasing the girls around. They were squealing as they ran around the back yard. Papa still walked with a slight limp from his injury during the genocide. He was not able to run too fast. The girls didn’t know the difference. They just knew that he was with them and he was all theirs.
Fatima went into the guest bedroom on the main floor behind the kitchen. This is where she usually slept when she stayed over. It was hard to get comfortable but she would try. Ali must have been in the room recently because his scent was on the bedding. She sank into the pillow and took comfort in knowing that when she woke up he would likely be home.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Fatima woke up to the sound of her daughters voices. Ali had arrived and they were thrilled. They had not seen him since yesterday afternoon. Fatima sometimes worried about the effect having their father absent so often, would have on them. During the regular season he was typically away from home for at least 100 days. It was a significant amount of time for the girls and for Fatima. Sometimes it put a heavy strain on family life.
Ali and Fatima had recently been discussing his possible departure from the league. Ali felt that he needed to spend more time with their daughters and if Fatima decided to pursue a degree in medicine the girls would definitely need one full time parent. He was thinking of developing a camp and recreation site on the land that they owned. Work was already being done on a home for their family.
Fatima came out of the bedroom. She stood and watched Ali interact with his family for a few seconds.
He had the same easy comfort with everyone wherever he was. It was as though he belonged everywhere. Ali stood beside his father. Papa was a tall man but Ali had grown past him by the time he was 17. He really did look like his father, a younger darker version of Papa. They both had strong lean features, a firm jaw, serious eyes and an easy smile.
The family were all so happy to see him. Rahma jumped and hugged him around his neck. Masuma and Batool hugged one leg each.
“Where’s Laila?” Ali asked.
“She ran to hide as soon as she heard you. I think she wants you to find her,” Rahma answered.
Ali bent over, peeled Batool and Masuma off his legs and removed his shoes. “Ok, well I better get on it before she falls asleep somewhere.”
“That certainly has happened before,” Fatima interjected.
Ali noticed her standing in the doorway of the guest room for the first time. “Fatima, as-salaam alaikum, how are you?” Ali greeted her.
“Wa alaikum as-salaam, I’m good. And you?” She replied. Why does this moment feel so awkward? Fatima wondered. She hated everything about the last 24 hours. Quickly she decided to put everything out of her mind and enjoy her evening. Worrying never helped in any case. Ali was home now, they were all together and whatever was happening outside would remain there at least for tonight.
“Great. Glad to be home. I think we should find Laila,” Ali said
Fatima laughed. “For sure, I’m right behind you.”
“You know I can’t wait for you.” He teased her about her slow movements. Ali always had a way of interjecting humour even in the most serious moments. It was good. It was good to have someone to lighten things up once in a while. They searched for Laila and found her in a doll house in the family room. Just like the others she was thrilled to see her father.
Laila and Batool the three year old twins, were replicas of their mother while Masuma looked like Ali. At five years old she took her role as elder sister very seriously. She often tried to be bossy, but the twins would not allow her to get the best of them. Laila always wanted to play and was often up to some mischief. Batool was very helpful. She needed to make sure everything was in order. She also loved to eat. She always headed straight for the kitchen when arriving at Mama’s house or anyone’s house for that matter.
Ali sat with Laila on the carpeted floor for a few minutes and played with her. Fatima looked around the family room. It was filled with books, toys and dozens of Ali’s trophies and medals. He had outstanding achievement in archery, judo, tae kwon do, mixed martial arts, swimming, track and field and of course basketball. Fatima had wanted to keep some of them at their home, but Ali had refused.
“Do you think she planned this, to get you alone, all to herself?” Fatima sat on an exercise ball.
Ali rolled over taking Laila with him. “Do I think? I’m sure.” He didn’t seem to mind. It really warmed Fatima’s heart to see him interact with their children. At moments like these she couldn’t help but think of Rachel. She didn’t have any of this. Her boys didn’t have this. Yes, they all loved Rachel and her family and were there for them, but it couldn’t be the same.
“How is Rachel doing?” Ali asked.
“What?” Fatima was surprised. He seemed to read her mind.
“Rachel. I’ve been thinking about her. She hasn’t been looking well,” Ali replied.
“You noticed?”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“Oh, well, you know woman stuff.” Fatima tried to make light of the situation.
“No I don’t.” Ali was not prepared to give up that easily.
“Well, she’ll be ok. She has me.”
Ali nodded. “You look tired. I should take you home,” he decided.
“No, your mom made dinner. We have to eat first, we can’t leave now. She waited for you.” Fatima stopped her movement on the ball.
“Yes, Ma’am, whatever you say.” Ali rose to his feet with Laila in his arms.
They made their way back to the kitchen. “You’re in trouble you know,” Fatima said.
“Me? Why?” Ali was truly surprised.
“Mama’s upset you didn’t tell her you were going.” Fatima watched closely for Ali’s reaction.
“She didn’t say anything to me.” Ali stopped in the hallway before reaching the kitchen.
“You know she wouldn’t in front of me.”
Ali looked pensive for a moment, and then smiled. “It’s ok. I’ll make it up. I know how to take care of her.”
“Daddy what did you bring?” Laila turned Ali’s face so he could only look directly at her.
“You’ll have to wait until you get home to find out.” He nipped her forearm and when she pulled it back he gave her a kiss on her neck.
“You had time to shop?” Fatima realized he had a very tight schedule and couldn’t imagine he would have time to do anything extra.
Ali looked down at her. “I made time.”
They arrived at the kitchen and Ali paused to allow Fatima to pass him and take her seat at the table. He placed Laila in her seat beside her grandfather and took his seat beside Fatima and his mother. They had a pleasant dinner. They laughed and talked about the girls, Rahma’s studies and her plans for the summer. They guessed about the exact birth date and weight of the baby, and they suggested possible names. No one mentioned Ali’s trip. When they finished dinner Ali and Fatima said goodnight and took their children home.

Ali had bought three dolls for his daughters. Each doll had one child’s name stitched on the front of its dress.
“I can’t believe you had time to do this. They’re beautiful.” Fatima was truly touched.
The girls danced around their parents’ room with their dolls. Fatima watched them and was so happy for their joy. She remembered how much she had wanted this kind of attention from her own father. It never came.
He had always wanted a son and Fatima had felt that if she had been a boy maybe he would have stayed. She had tried to show interest in the things her father loved, but he just didn’t think cars and sports were for girls. It was too bad, because she really was interested.
She had taken mechanics in high school and was one of the best in her class. She could fix just about anything in or outside of the house, although Ali never let her. Her dad just couldn’t see past the fact that she wasn’t a boy. Or so she thought.
He lived in British Columbia now and though they talked often enough, she was hurt that he never visited her after any of the girls were born. She was sure if she had had a boy he would have come.
“And for you,” Ali handed Fatima a gift bag. She recognized the scent immediately.
“Rose oil, thank you so much.” It was 500 ml of pure essential oil. “Ali, it’s too much. It must have been so expensive,” Fatima insisted.
“Do you like it?” Ali asked.
“Of course, I love it. You know I do.” Rose was Fatima’s favourite scent and one that she usually kept in the house in some form, whether in the form of flowers, oil or spray.
“Then that’s all that matters.” Laila stayed close to him, weaving in and out of his legs, while he stroked her head.
“Open it Mommy, open it.” Fatima opened the bottle and the smell filled the room. She put one drop on a tissue and waved it in the air. The girls wanted some on them so Fatima opened her drawer and pulled out a bottle of almond oil. She put a few drops in her palm. She took one drop of the rose oil and mixed them together. She touched the mixture, rubbed her fingers together and touched each girl behind each of their ears.
Ali watched from the doorway. “Ok, the party’s over little ones. It’s time for bed.”
“Daddy can we have a bedtime story?”
“Go pick one. I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned back to Fatima. “I’ll be just a few minutes.”
“Take your time.”
“Can you read The Night Prayers?” Fatima could hear the girls asking. It was their favourite story and they asked for it almost every night.
“Sure. In bed you go.” Ali followed them into their room.
Fatima prepared herself for bed. She showered and mixed some more of the rose oil in a small bottle she kept in her drawer. It was so soothing for her stretched skin and the smell was incredible. She felt elated instantly.
She adjusted her pillow and when she slipped her hand underneath she felt a small piece of paper. She knew it was one of the notes Ali had left for her yesterday. She was ready to read it now. She pulled out the paper. Call me it read. She suddenly felt sad thinking of Ali waiting for her call that never came.
“They fell asleep before I even finished.” Ali had returned to their room.
“Lucky you. They wear me out with their stories,” Fatima said.
“Hey, look what I got for Josh and Jonah.” Ali pulled out two identical soccer balls.
“Uh, how many kids do you have again?” Fatima was smiling. She was pleased that he loved Rachel’s boys. They really needed him.
“Believe me sometimes I wonder myself,” he replied with a smile.
“Do you wish they were basketballs instead?” Fatima inquired.
“Well, they’re still a little short for that game. I figure I’ll warm them up and switch them over later.” Fatima knew he was joking.
She couldn’t help but notice how Ali beamed when he talked about Joshua and Jonah and their sports activities. She knew she shouldn’t but she had to ask. “Do you ever wish you had a boy?”
“What do you mean, instead of the girls?” Ali sat down on the edge of their bed.
“Yes.” Fatima really wondered how he would answer.
“What are you talking about? Of course not. Where is this coming from?” Ali wrinkled his brow.
“I don’t know. You’re so into Joshua and Jonah, I just wondered if you ever thought about it.”
“Well, I guess most men would like to have a son and the first time sure I thought about it. Not since then. It’s such a gift to have these children, any children, am I going to quibble about boy or girl? It really doesn’t matter to me, anymore. Allah gives us what is best. He is All-Knowing, All-Wise. Who am I to suggest that He is wrong? How rude could I be?” Ali suddenly became sombre. “You know what my family has been through. Just to have healthy, happy, safe kids means more to me than anything else.”
“Are you sure?” Fatima could not get her father out of her mind.
“Fatima, I would not trade one of my daughters for a thousand sons, I promise you.”
“Not even Laila? You know how she can be.” She hoped Ali would say something to lighten the mood and make her feel better.
Ali chuckled at the mention of his mischievous little daughter. “Especially not Laila.”
“Well, what if this baby is a boy?” Fatima raised herself on her elbow.
“What if it is?” Ali crossed his arms.
“Will you be happy?” Fatima asked.
“Would you want it any other way?”
“Well, would you be especially happy.” Fatima pressed for an answer.
“Yes, to have yet another child, healthy and perfect, Inshallah, I would be especially happy.” He was teasing her now and she was feeling annoyed. It was really a serious topic for her. She knew she shouldn’t care but sometimes emotion took over rationale.
“You know what I mean, happy because it’s a boy.”
Ali paused for a few seconds and kept his cool gaze on his wife. Fatima started to wonder what he was thinking.
“I’m not your father,” he finally said.
Fatima was caught off guard. Was she that transparent? She did not know how to reply. She knew that Ali was a different man from the one she had grown up with, but sometimes the doubts just overpowered her sense of reason. It was so difficult to keep her focus on what was real instead of the pain of her past.
Flustered she stumbled over her answer. “I know that. I do. I was just thinking.”
“Well, stop doing that ok? I love our family. I love Laila, I love Batool, I love Masuma; I don’t need anything else except a healthy baby.” He paused and looked at Fatima chewing her lip, “And a happy wife. Ok?”
“Ok.”
“You’re stuck with me,” he added gently.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“I am never leaving you or those girls. No matter what.”
Fatima turned her attention back to the piece of paper that was in her hand. “Did you check the doors?” she asked Ali.
“I’ll do it right now.”
When Ali left the room she opened the paper again. “Call me,” she read out loud. She reached for the phone beside her bed and dialled Ali’s cell phone.
“Is that my phone ringing?” Ali re-entered their bedroom.
“It is.” Fatima hid the house phone and pretended to be settling in to sleep.
“Who could be calling me now?” Ali asked as he reached for his phone. He checked the caller ID before answering. He almost laughed out loud. He pressed ‘answer’ and in his most professional voice said, “Ali Abati. May I help you?”

Across the street Rachel looked out of her window. She spent many nights like this. Indeed all night sometimes. She would sit and remember the last time she had been looking out for her father. When she was small she would come to this room because it gave her the best view of the street. She could see when he was approaching before anyone else in the house; until the last time, when he didn’t come back. Sometimes she sat here wishing she could turn back the time. Sometimes she believed if she thought about it hard enough it would happen; she would see him driving down the street and realize that this had all been a bad dream.
When the lights went out in Fatima’s house she shook her head in amusement. “He is so predictable.” Ali always went to bed at the same time. Routine was important to him. He didn’t make a big deal about it; it just was his way, naturally. He usually got up at the same time too, and often once during the night.
Although she was across the street, many nights that routine gave her a strange sense of comfort and security. She knew when the lights would go out and she knew when they would go on. Ali never turned on the bedroom light during the night or early morning, but he may turn on the hall way light or a lamp on the main floor. Rachel felt like as long as everything was ok in Fatima’s house, then she was ok too. She sat in her chair next to the window. She thought about her life and her father. She clearly remembered the last day he was home.
It had been her tenth birthday and a small group of friends and family had gathered at her house. They had been waiting for her father to return from work. They had decorations and cake and Naomi had made all Rachel’s favourite foods. They waited and waited. Late at night after most guests had left, Papa started calling around to see if they could locate him. Finally the police had called to say he had been in an accident. Rachel never saw him again. They wouldn’t allow her to see him at the hospital and they had had a closed casket. Naomi had put away all his pictures and Rachel sometimes had a hard time remembering what he looked like. He was fading in her mind. His voice and his laugh, everything was fading. It scared her to death to think about losing him again.
“Mommy.” Jonah was at her bedroom door. He was almost the same height as Joshua who was a little small for his age.
“What is it honey?” Rachel turned to face her son. Jonah came and sat on his mother’s lap.
“I don’t like it when you go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere, honey.”
“When you go away I have bad dreams,” Jonah insisted.
“It’s ok honey, I’m here. What kind of bad dreams?” Rachel asked.
“Bad men come.”
“I’m so sorry, honey. You’re ok. Mommy’s here now.” Jonah often had bad dreams. He spent many nights in bed with Rachel. He was very sensitive and worried a lot. Whenever Jamie came around the dreams were worse. She rocked him back and forth in the rocking chair Jamie had bought her when she was pregnant with Joshua. She had wanted a rocking chair so badly. One day he had just surprised her with it. She had rocked her children here and Fatima’s too.
“You don’t know Mommy; there are bad men out there. Don’t leave me. They come when you leave me.”
“I won’t leave you. I’m right here. I love you Jonah.”
Jonah fell asleep and Rachel continued to rock him through the night. When she saw the light on Fatima’s main floor she knew it was 4 am. She put Jonah in her bed and kissed him good-night. “I won’t ever leave you, as long as I live.”
She returned to her rocking chair and pulled out her list.

Sundays were usually an easy day at Fatima’s house. They tried not to go anywhere or have any special plans. It was just a day for the family to relax and enjoy each other. The girls did whatever they wanted and that usually meant starting the day by jumping on whoever was still in bed.
This morning the bed was empty. Ali had gone for a run and Fatima was at her desk in the family room studying. The room was comfortable with soft earth tone walls and soft pink couches and armchairs. Cashmere pillows and throws helped to create a serene setting. Two large windows on either side of the fireplace were draped in fabric that matched the couches. Framed nature scenes hung on the walls. Fatima’s desk was neatly tucked in the corner to the right of the entrance. She often came to this room to relax. On winter nights she loved to unwind in front of the fireplace.
She didn’t usually study on Sundays, but she felt restless today and needed to do something to occupy her mind. Also if she put in a few hours early then she could relax the rest of the day. Usually when Ali returned from a trip the girls were interested in him exclusively for at least a few hours so she would take advantage of that time to do something for herself.
Her exams were starting in two weeks and she really had to push herself to study. At this stage in her pregnancy she could not care less about studying. She just wanted to prepare for her baby although there wasn’t much for her to do. They already had the major things and she would do most of the other shopping after the baby was born. She had help to clean and do laundry once a week and she really didn’t have to cook if she didn’t want to. That definitely made it a bit easier to study, but with three active little girls it was still chaotic most of the time.
Masuma came running down the steps into the lower level. “I’m telling on you!”
Laila screamed behind her, “It wasn’t me!”
“Yes, it was!” Batool was crying.
Fatima turned to face three very upset little girls. “What happened?”
All three girls were yelling and crying and Masuma waved a piece of paper in her hand that had red and green crayon scribbled all over it.
“Laila was drawing on Daddy’s paper.”
“Give it to me. Where did you get this? Fatima asked.
“In his drawer, but it was an accident!” Laila was hysterical now.
The girls knew that Ali usually kept treats for them in his bedside table.
“It’s a bit early for sweets don’t you think?” Fatima took the paper from Masuma’s hand and realized too late that it was the letter from the lawyer that had arrived on Friday. As she tried to process what she had read she suddenly felt her heart racing and her breath hard to catch. She stared at the paper so long that it no longer seemed real. When she heard Ali enter the house she told the girls to go to the basement and watch a movie.
“We want to see Daddy.” They all started jumping.
“Get in the basement!” Fatima yelled.
The girls froze. She had never yelled at them before.
She softened her voice. “Masuma, please take them,” Fatima pleaded. She was trembling now.
The girls quickly and quietly disappeared and Fatima sunk her face into her two hands. When she looked up Ali was in front of her. He wore a beige track suit with baby blue lines down the side of the arms and legs.
“What’s going on?” he asked in a soft but concerned voice.
Fatima could not get the words out. She held up the paper. “Masuma found this in your drawer.”
Ali slowly took the paper from her hand.
“So this is what’s going on?” Fatima asked. “Someone is filing a paternity suit against you?”

CHAPTER FIVE

2009-10-29T23:31:00.003-04:00

“What are you talking about? He actually said that? Why would he want to hurt Ali?”
“You know their history. He’s so jealous of him. Jaime knows I never really loved him. He just can’t handle it. I guess it’s an ego thing. Now, with Ali playing such a big role in Joshua’s and Jonah’s lives, it just eats him.” Rachel’s eyes lit up. “You should see how excited they are when they talk about all the things that Ali does with them. It’s killing him. And of course Ali is successful in a way that he’s not.” Rachel was feeling very nervous telling Fatima all of this. The last thing she wanted was for Fatima and Ali to get involved in her problems. And whether Fatima wanted to see it or not Jamie was a big problem.
“It’s his choice not to be in their lives. What does he want? Them to have nothing? Just sit around waiting for him to show up whenever the wind blows him this way? That’s no life for those boys. He should be grateful someone is taking an interest in his kids and giving them some positive life experiences.” Fatima pushed her cold plate away.
“Maybe someone would be ok, but not Ali. Anyway he says he’s not around for the boys as much as he wants because he’s busy building their future.” Rachel knew how pathetic that sounded, but she really wanted Fatima to calm down and hopefully move onto another topic.
Fatima scoffed at Rachel’s comments. “Oh yes, building their future. They’ll know right where to find him when he’s finished, too, behind bars.”
Rachel was too embarrassed to even reply. She knew everything Fatima said was true and she wanted nothing more than to walk away from Jamie permanently, but he was so persistent. When he was away she was fine. She didn’t even think about him, but when he came around with his sad story, she just felt so weak. If she ever tried to resist him he would get explosive. She just couldn’t handle the outbursts.
Somehow she also feared making a mistake. What if he could change and be a good father to her boys. Did she have the right to give up on that? Didn’t her boys deserve a chance at having a family? Then there was always the fear that he would move on to someone else. Then she would look like the idiot, stuck with his kids while he went off and had a new family. She knew it made no sense but these were the issues she had to get over before she could truly move on in her life.
“Fine, they have this long standing rivalry, but what makes you think he really would do something to harm him?” Fatima pressed Rachel for more answers.
“I don’t remember his exact words, but I believed him.” Rachel twisted uncomfortably in her seat.
Fatima was silent as she processed everything she had just heard. “Rachel, did you make the list?”
Fatima was always talking about her prayer list. Mama had one and they had even gotten Naomi to start one. Fatima insisted that if Rachel made a list and prayed over it every day, she would be amazed at the miracles that would happen in her life.
“I promise you if you pray on that list, one by one you will be crossing things off and thanking God for hearing and answering your prayers.”
“Yah well maybe for you, but not me.” Rachel started to pick at her food again.
“Why not you? It works for me, and everyone else, but not you? You really think you’re that bad?” Fatima teased.
“Fatima, you know it’s just not my thing.” Rachel took a bite of her food.
“If that were true you wouldn’t be my friend.” Fatima smiled at Rachel with tenderness.
“Next topic.” Rachel cut Fatima off abruptly. This was one area she was not going to get into now. Praying was hard for her since her father had died. She had prayed so hard for him to recover from his accident and come back home. It hadn’t happened. Now they had to live a life without him. They had suffered so much since his death that Rachel just had a blockage when it came to prayer. She knew it worked for some people, but she just didn’t know how to make it work for herself.
“Ok, next topic.” Fatima reached across the table and held Rachel’s hands. “I am going to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth, no matter what it is, ok?” Fatima sounded so serious that Rachel felt uneasy.
“Ok.”
Fatima took a deep breath. “Your baby, was it Jamie’s?” Fatima kept her eyes on Rachel’s face.
Rachel heard the key in the door behind her and felt relief. She didn’t like the direction of this conversation. On the other side of the door Ali paused and when Fatima gave him the ok he entered the house.
“As-salaam alaikum.”
“Wa alaikum as-salaam,” Fatima replied without taking her eyes off Rachel.
“Hey Ali, how was the game?” Rachel was eager to hear about Joshua’s first day on the field. She was so grateful that Ali had stepped up and taken on the responsibility of her sons. At least she had made one good decision in her life, having him as a friend.
Ali bent to take off his shoes. “Incredible! I just dropped them home. They must be talking your mother’s ear off right now. They were so excited. Joshua is good! You should see him handle the ball. I think you have a little star on your hands.” Ali was beaming with obvious pride.
“Really? I should go see them.” Rachel tried to get up, but Fatima would not release the grip on her hands.
“I’ll see you later,” Ali said to Rachel. He turned and headed up the stairs.
“Ali,” Rachel called to him as he mounted the stairs.
“Yes Rachel.” Ali paused and looked back.
“Mom loves her kitchen. It’s amazing.”
He smiled. “I’m glad.” He turned and disappeared up the stairs.
Fatima pulled Rachel towards her across the table and whispered, “Answer me.”
“I shouldn’t even answer you,” Rachel replied in an angry whisper. “Of course he is. What kind of a person do you take me for?”
Fatima released her grip on Rachel. “Just forget it. I don’t really know what I’m saying.”
“I can’t even believe you could ask me something like that. What are you really suggesting? You know what? I don’t even want to know. I’m just going home.” Rachel got up. “My life is getting crazier by the minute.”
“Listen, forget it. I just, I don’t know, so many things have happened in the last two days that I just don’t feel like myself.” Fatima was starting to blush.
“Well, I guess you are entitled. You are hormonal.” Rachel was happy to drop the subject. She didn’t even want to imagine what was going through Fatima’s mind. “Just don’t go getting freaky weird on me.” Rachel’s voice was starting to soften.
“I’m sorry, I feel really stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Fatima was obviously embarrassed.
“Well, I have dumped a lot on you too. That wasn’t fair.” Rachel reached out and touched Fatima’s shoulder. “This was really bad timing. Look my boys are waiting for me and your husband is waiting for you, so I’m going home.”
“Okay,” Fatima nodded.
“You get some rest and take care of Mr. Abati’s baby.” Rachel allowed herself to smile again. “I don’t want him blaming me for stressing you out.”
“Good night Rachel, kiss the boys for me.”
“Bye.” Rachel touched Fatima’s cheek and left. Fatima closed the door behind her.

“What is happening to my life?” Rachel thought out loud, as she walked across the street to her house. She dreaded going there. Everything reminded her of her father. She felt guilty leaving her mother alone as much as she did, but nothing was the same without him. Naomi wasn’t even the same. Rachel really missed him now. If only he were here she would know what to do. She had always felt so safe with him. Now nothing was right and nowhere was safe. Rachel reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She had some things to add to her list.

Inside the house Fatima could still feel her cheeks burning. What had she been thinking asking Rachel such a question? She really needed to rest. Leaving the girls with Mama and Papa was starting to sound like a good idea.
She stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. Ali was likely packing a bag and getting ready to go catch his flight. Rachel had been a pleasant distraction, now back to her life. She looked up the stairs, but didn’t think she had the strength to climb them. It was getting harder for her these days. Sleeping on the couch was sounding good. She hated sleeping alone anyway. Ali appeared at the top of the stairs, with a bag over his shoulder. He wore blue jeans, a button-down shirt and a brown suede jacket.
“Do you need a hand?” He smile warmly at her, but she was not in the mood for his pleasantries.
“No, actually I was heading towards the couch.” Fatima turned and made her way to the family room and sat in the arm chair closest to the entrance. The pressure of the last two days coupled with Ali’s impending departure was too much for her. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Ali’s voice was coming from the doorway directly behind Fatima.
“And how do you know what I’m thinking?” Ali had now pulled up an ottoman and was sitting by her side. Fatima opened her eyes to meet his gaze.
“Because of these,” he curled his fingers and gently pressed them to the corner of her eye, “and these,” he repeated it on the other eye. When he pulled his hand away his fingers held the moisture from the tears Fatima was trying to hold back.
“You know how I am when I’m pregnant. I’m just a little emotional.” She was embarrassed. He could always read her so well.
“I know. That’s why I don’t want you to worry about anything.”
Fatima stared straight ahead and through the back window. “I hate to think that we have secrets between us. If there’s some kind of problem I should know.”
“We have no secrets. I don’t want you to think that” Ali pulled his seat a little closer.” Listen I have never had to ask you this before, but I’m dealing with something right now and I just need you to give me some time. Can you do that?”
Fatima looked straight ahead. “You’re going to miss your flight.”
“I need to make sure you’re alright.”
“And if I am not?” She turned to look at him again.
“Then you should tell me.”
“I’m fine.” Fatima continued to look at Ali and in spite of all she was feeling she started to smile.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?” Fatima asked innocently.
“You tell me.”
“I was just remembering something; something the ladies were saying about you today.”
“Oh? Ladies talking about me? What else is new?” Ali smiled although his clear brown eyes still had the heaviness Fatima had seen in them earlier today when he first told her about his trip.
“Aren’t we modest?” Fatima hit him with a cushion.
“Look, I have to go. Are you going to get the girls? I’ll drop you over there.” Ali stood up and held out his hand.
“No, I think I’ll wait a few minutes. I just want to rest.”
“I don’t feel good leaving you alone. Let’s go. We’ll move slowly.”
“Really, I just want a few minutes by myself,” Fatima insisted.
Ali reluctantly agreed. “Fine, I’ll call you in a little while.”
“Inshallah.” Fatima closed her eyes and leaned back again. “Ali did you tell your parents you were leaving.” Fatima called out to him before he went through the door.
“I spoke to my dad, but I had to duck out before Mama caught me. You know she would drill me.” Ali smiled and Fatima couldn’t help but smile back. After he had left she relaxed and fell asleep.

The telephone rang waking her up. It was Ali calling from the airport. He was about to board his flight and was suggesting that she leave the girls with Mama and Papa and get them in the morning. He said he had already talked to them about it. She agreed. After she hung up the phone she prayed, then she transferred to the couch and pulled a blanket over herself. A piece of paper fell out of the blanket when she lifted it. Fatima knew what it was. Ali always left notes around the house when he travelled. The couch was one of his regular spots. He never forgot to do it. Fatima always wondered how he managed to do it without her noticing. She opened the piece of paper. I’ll miss you, it said.
“I’ll miss you more,” she whispered. She pulled up the blanket and went to sleep.

NEXT POST ON WEDNESDAY....thanks to those who are following the chapters. I will decide how many sample chapters to post depending on readership. If you are following and would like to read more (a little more :)) let me know.

CHAPTER FOUR

2009-10-26T09:07:00.003-04:00

Fatima returned just as her housekeeper, Patricia was leaving. “I’m all finished Fatima. I’ll see you next week.” It had taken years for Fatima to convince Patricia to call her by her first name, but in the case of Ali, the best she would do was to call him Mr. Ali.
“Oh, thank-you Patricia. Did you eat?” Fatima asked her as she entered the front door.
“Yes, and yes I took the container in the fridge. I’ll return it next Friday.”
“Alright. Have a good weekend, then.”
Fatima closed the door went to look for Rahma. The girls had just had lunch and were ready for their nap. Rahma read them a few stories and put them to bed. After Rahma left Fatima tried to study, but she was exhausted and fell asleep too.
When she woke up it was 5:15 pm and the house was quiet. The girls never slept this long. Fatima went to check on them and saw that they were not in their rooms. She realized that Ali must be home. She went to look downstairs and found him in the kitchen.
“As-salaam alaikum, where are the girls?” Fatima rubbed her face to help herself wake up. She usually used the blow dryer on her hair. Today she did not have time so her hair was still curly, but had been flattened by her hijab.
“Wa alaikum as-salaam, Papa came over. He wanted to visit with them. I told him you were sleeping so it would be better to keep them at his house.”
Papa never needed a reason to take the girls. He lived for them. He often came by to play with them or help take care of them in some way. He had built a huge playground for them in his backyard and they spent many days out there. He also taught them regularly too. All the girls had started reading Quran and the oldest had already memorized much of the 30th part of the Holy Book.
“Did they eat?” Fatima had prepared dinner before going to Naomi’s house.
Ali leaned against the black marble of the kitchen island. “Are you joking? You think I would feed them if they’re going over there? What would happen if they refused Mama’s food? She would probably think they’re sick.”
Fatima laughed. “You’re right. They’ll have more than enough to eat over there. Did they use the washroom?”
“Yes, yes, Fatima they’re fine. Relax. Here sit.” She looked behind Ali and could see that the letters were missing from the letter holder.
Fatima was eager to find out what was going on, but she was hoping that Ali would tell her voluntarily. She slid into the bench of the booth where they usually took their meals. “So what time did you get home?”
“About 45 minutes ago.” Still leaning against the island he watched her closely. Fatima knew that look. He had something to tell her and was trying to find the right way to do it.
“How was your day?” Fatima’s eyes scanned the kitchen in search of the mysterious letter.
“Good, nothing special. Coach worked us hard, though.”
“You look tired. Are you hungry?” Fatima started to get up to prepare his food.
“Actually I am, but I can wait. Come, I need to talk to you.”
Fatima’s curiosity was at its peak. She followed Ali to the family room at the back of the house and sat beside him as he indicated.
“I need to go out of town.” Fatima remained silent waiting for the rest. “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon.”
“What’s going on?” she asked as she tried to keep her voice steady.
“I need to go to Ottawa.” Ali’s face was blank. Fatima couldn’t read anything from it and she was trying hard.
“Why?”
“I just need to take care of something. Nothing to worry about. I’ll be home tomorrow.” Ali's gaze shifted from one of Fatima’s eyes to the other gaging her response.
“When are you leaving?” Why is he being so cagey?
“Tonight. I have a flight for 9:45 pm. I’ll leave right after the soccer game.”
“That’s cutting it kind of close isn’t it?” Fatima couldn’t understand why he was not more forthcoming. This wasn’t like him at all.
“It is, but I think it’ll be ok. I have a meeting in the morning. I’ll try to do it as early as possible then head back home. I’ll be home before dinnertime.” Ali rubbed his chin. “Maybe you should all stay with Papa tonight, or I can ask them to come over here.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Fatima shook her head. Papa treated her like a top priority, especially when Ali was away. Anything she wanted he did for her. She didn’t want to put him out at all.
“At least Rahma should come, in case you need anything.” Ali was never comfortable leaving Fatima alone especially while she was so advanced in her pregnancy.
“If she wants to. Whatever. So are you going to tell me what this is all about? Or am I to die in suspense?” Fatima tried to make her voice seem light but she didn’t think she could be convincing.
Ali looked quickly around the room and let out a heavy sigh. It was clear he was not going to talk about it. “I can’t right now, but I will as soon as it’s all sorted out.”
Fatima was stunned. She hadn’t really expected him not to tell her. She couldn’t believe it. Ali was sitting in front of her telling her that he was about to fly to Ottawa, stay overnight, be back home tomorrow by dinnertime and he was refusing to tell her why.
“This doesn’t make any sense. Ali is everything ok with you?” She was starting to feel concerned.
“Yes, yes, I don’t want you to worry about anything.” Ali nodded his head.
“Don’t shut me out, Ali.” The hurt in her voice was obvious.
“I’ll handle it. I’ll be back before you know it.” He looked up and tried to smile.
The phone rang breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between them. Fatima walked across the room and down two steps to the lower level of the family room to pick up the phone on her desk.

“Hi Rachel what’s up. What happened?” Fatima remembered that Rachel was going to call her doctor.
“I’m at the hospital. I guess the procedure wasn’t done completely so I had to have an emergency D&C.”
“What! Oh no.” What else could go wrong today? Fatima wondered.
“I’m ok, but I’m exhausted and this nurse really ticked me off and now I’m being discharged and I’m really sorry Fatima, but could you pick me up? I’m really sorry.”
“No, of course I’ll come. I’ll be there right away.”
“Oh, and Joshua and Jonah are at the daycare. They need to be picked up before 6 pm.”
“Ali is getting them today. Remember Josh starts soccer tonight?” Fatima glanced up the stairs to see Ali watching her. She turned her back and continued listening to Rachel.
“Oh, I forgot. I don’t think I can make it tonight.” Rachel sounded on edge.
“Don’t worry. Ali can manage. Papa has the girls so he’ll just have your guys. It’ll be fine. I’m leaving now. Bye”
“What’s going on?” Ali stood up and approached Fatima.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Fatima deliberately sounded more nonchalant than the situation called for.
“It sounds like something’s wrong.” Ali had reached the top of the steps.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” Fatima stepped past him and left the room. When she arrived at the storage bench beside the front doors she grabbed her hijab and her purse from one of the three rattan baskets underneath and slipped into her shoes. Ali stood at the end of the hall watching her. She turned and left without saying good bye. When she was finally outside she put her sun glasses on and grunted in frustration. She felt like screaming.
This was the first time Ali had ever kept anything from her. He certainly never stayed away from home unless he was playing ball. Even then he always preferred that she go with him. Beyond that he was acting so anxious. Fatima racked her brain trying to figure out what it could be. She couldn’t help wondering if it had something to do with the letter. But why the secrecy? She had a very uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Rachel waited for Fatima to arrive and when she saw her car she tried to rush to it. Fatima came out of the car to help her.
“Take it easy, here let me help you. Where is your car?” Fatima looped her arm with Rachel’s and helped her to the door.
“It’s still at the mechanic’s. I should get it back tomorrow.” Two people about to enter the hospital stepped aside to let Rachel pass by and looked back as they did.
Fatima smiled at her friend. “Even on your worst day you still turn heads.”
“Ha, they’re probably wondering why I’m being let out.” Rachel eased herself into the car. Fatima stood beside the door after closing it for her.
“At least someone is humble around here.”
Rachel knit her brows and shifted her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Ali doesn’t even pretend not to notice the attention he gets.”
Rachel leaned back and closed her eyes. “He would have to be mentally impaired not to notice, but you know he doesn’t care.”
“I guess.” Fatima walked to her side of the car. After entering and getting buckled she turned her attention back to Rachel. “I can’t believe this. Is this the height of incompetence or what? How could they not have completed the procedure properly? Who was the doctor?”
“Dr. Simms, but I think it happens sometimes. I don’t know. I really don’t have the energy for this. Anyway, there was this nurse.”
“Oh yes, you mentioned the nurse. What happened?”
Rachel relayed the story. She had been sitting waiting for her examination and the nurse that had attended her was young, about Rachel’s age. Rachel thought she would like her until she opened her mouth. After looking at Rachel’s chart she turned to Rachel and asked, “Did you go to the University of Toronto?”
“Yes,” Rachel had replied while she tried to search the nurse’s face for some familiarity.
“And you have two boys right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you Jamie’s girlfriend?” the nurse had asked.

Rachel turned to Fatima. “Now do you think I really wanted to hear his name?”
“What did you say to her?”
“Oh please, I still haven’t answered her.”
“How does she know you? Who is she?” Fatima questioned.
“I don’t know. Did you hear me say I know her? She said she’s a friend of Jaime’s and she heard he had kids. My name sounded familiar and I fit the description. Whatever that means. She ticked me off that’s all I know.”
Rachel fumed at the thought that someone who knew her knew her business, especially a friend of Jaime’s. Maybe she was upset at not knowing what the relationship was between Jamie and this woman. The whole situation was so humiliating and again Rachel was angry with herself. What had she done wrong to deserve this? Why did Fatima end up with the perfect life? What was the difference between them? Even though she kept trying to put her life right it seemed like obstacles kept being thrown in the way.
“Why do you care? Who cares? Just worry about yourself and your kids and stop thinking about what everyone else is thinking because they’re living their lives and it has nothing to do with you.” Fatima was firm.
“The whole situation is just so embarrassing.” Suddenly another reality gripped Rachel. “What if she tells Jamie?”
“What? She can’t do that. What about confidentiality?”
“Oh, wake up Fatima, not everyone follows the rules. I mean, obviously she knows why I was there. What if she tells Jamie? He’ll kill me.”
“I am so sick of hearing about Jamie. Stop making decisions in your life based on him! Where is he now? Where is he when your kids are sick or lonely or hungry or dirty or whatever? Tonight Joshua is starting soccer for the first time. He is so excited, and where is his father? Nowhere, that’s where. Just forget that loser and move on Rachel. For God’s sake what is it going to take for you to get it?” Fatima was starting to get angry.

Fatima didn’t understand. Jaime wasn’t the same guy they had known in high school. He wasn’t just a small time hoodlum any more. He had graduated. He had connections. He really knew some serious people and he could do a lot of damage, to all of them.
“Move on to what? Huh? What? I don’t see any knight in shining armour riding around here. If there was, you grabbed him quick enough. Anyway I have two kids; that definitely reduces my value on the market.” Rachel felt emotion building and that made her angrier than ever.
“What are you talking about? You can have anything you want. You know that. You’ve made good things happen in your life, but you just stopped moving forward. Remember the scholarship?”
Rachel had been a Rhodes Scholar. She had received several scholarship offers. But the one she was really interested in was the swimming scholarship to a top University in the States. She had been so excited to go, but had changed her mind at the last minute, because Jaime had convinced her that their relationship would not survive the distance.”
“I didn’t want to leave Jaime.” Rachel shook her head. “That was stupid wasn’t it?”
“Jamie didn’t want you to leave him. You were ready to go. He was threatened by you moving forward when he wasn’t. What did we tell you then? If you two were meant to be together then you would be and if not you would meet someone better. You didn’t go and now look. You’ve stayed in the same place and where is he?”
Rachel remembered everything. Fatima and Ali had worked hard to convince her to go. She almost thought that they were trying to get rid of her. They had told her all the right things. She just hadn’t believed them.
“Rachel you have to start believing in yourself again. And you have to listen. Allah sends you messages through the people around you. You miss them if you don’t listen. You have so many people giving you good advice, people who really care about you. Get back on your life and start moving forward one step at a time.”

Fatima was right. Rachel knew it, but there had been so much going on at the time. Ali had recently signed with the Razors and he and Fatima were planning to get married.
Papa had insisted that they wait one year to get married. Papa wanted to see how Ali handled himself on the road. He always said, “Every daughter is my daughter and every son is my son.” He would not give his blessing for Ali to marry Fatima until Ali proved that he was responsible. Ali had agreed. He didn’t want to get married without the approval of both his parents.
Rachel had felt like she was losing everything. She had also been afraid to go far away from home and Jaime just felt safe and familiar. Anyway he didn’t become controlling until she was pregnant with Joshua. Or so she thought. Talking her out of the opportunity of a lifetime was certainly a controlling move. Two girls she had competed with had gone on to swim on the Olympic team. Rachel knew she could have been there too.
“You don’t understand. You’re married. It’s different for you.” Rachel turned to look out the window.
“You could have been married too. Ali knows so many people, good guys who would be great for you.”
“Who said I want to marry a Muslim?”
“It doesn’t have to be a Muslim. What about Shawn? He’s a great guy. He would be perfect for you. And what’s wrong with being a married to a Muslim?”
“I just don’t know if I can be that good little wifey, that’s all,” Rachel replied in an animated way.
“It’s all up to you, honey. Just be the good little baby-mother then.” Fatima shot back.
Rachel turned to look at Fatima in shock. She usually was straight forward, but this was harsh even for her. Maybe Rachel was wearing her out. Rachel was certainly exhausted too. They pulled up in front of Fatima’s house.
“Hey, did you forget about me?” Rachel joked.
“No, I want you to come over. You need to rest and Naomi might get suspicious.”
They entered the house and Rachel gingerly stepped on the tiled floor of the foyer. Most of the rest of the house had hardwood flooring. Rachel headed straight for the kitchen and slid into the booth. Fatima walked to the family room to turn on the adhan. “I have to pray, and then we can have dinner,” she said over her shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to wait for Ali?” Rachel asked.
“No.” Fatima said flatly and continued walking.
“Ok, I won’t ask.” Rachel stretched her legs and made herself comfortable. She really loved Fatima’s kitchen. It was large enough to have several people working comfortably in there at once. Ali and Papa had built a wonderful booth, just like the ones in restaurants. It was perfect for the kids, they could just slide in and out and it was great for the adults too. The seats and back were cushioned and exactly what Rachel needed right now. She stretched her legs out and put her feet up on the opposite bench.
From her seat she could see outside through the front window. She was looking directly at her house. Rachel wondered what her mother was doing right now. She knew her mother was worried about her. Fatima was right to have her come over. Naomi had a way of sensing things.
Rachel laughed and shook her head. She had told her mom she could probably go into business. With a sign outside ‘Naomi Knows’ she could make real money telling people all about themselves. That’s why Rachel had to keep her distance for a little while.
The adhan finished and Fatima started to pray. Rachel always felt so relaxed at the sound of the adhan. She had been hearing it for over 15 years and it was the same every time. She really enjoyed watching Fatima and her family pray as well. The movements had such beauty and grace. They all seemed so united when they prayed together.
Thinking about Fatima now she wondered how she kept her balance in her condition. She was just weeks away from having her baby, yet her prayer was still as smooth as ever. Fatima finished her prayer and returned to the kitchen.
Rachel wanted to lighten up the mood. She was expecting Fatima to hit her with a ton of questions and was willing to use any delay tactic necessary.
“How do you manage all that up and down with that huge belly in front of you?”
“I do yoga every day. I’m flexible, fit and strong.” Fatima flashed a smile.
“Ooh, I’m scared! I wouldn’t want to come around here late at night.” Rachel joked.
Fatima heated the food she had prepared earlier and placed it on the table then brought up the subject of Jamie.
“So, are you ready to talk?” she asked Rachel.
Rachel knew that she wasn’t going to get away with not saying anything this time. The time had come to come clean about the whole story. She knew Fatima was not going to let her off the hook again.
“What do you want to know?” Rachel picked up her fork and jabbed a piece of stewed chicken. Fatima usually made this dish on a Friday for her housekeeper. It was one of Patricia’s favourites and Fatima like her to have it when she worked once a week.
“Well, what happened? Why did you decide not to have the baby? Why didn’t you tell us? It just doesn’t sound like you,” Fatima asked.
Rachel sighed. She really wanted to put this all behind her. She certainly didn’t want to discuss this with Fatima. But she felt like she owed her some explanation after Fatima had done so much to help her. Should she tell her about the night that Jamie had come a few weeks ago? She looked out the window. Night was falling and she wondered about her boys. They would be on their way home soon. She was so sorry she had missed Joshua’s big day.
“I was going to have it, I guess. I just really wasn’t thinking about it.”
Fatima remained silent waiting for Rachel to complete her story. “Then Jamie came by unexpectedly and I tried to tell him and he started going off. He was acting like he didn’t believe it was his kid or something. I don’t really get it. I guess it’s because he doesn’t come around that often. Then he said he heard Ali was spending a lot of time with the boys and he said maybe they weren’t his either. It was all so weird.”
“That’s it? You had an abortion because Jamie was freaking out? Who cares? You see him two or three times a year.”
“You don’t understand. How was I going to have another child for such a loser? Josh and Jonah already suffer so much because of him. I couldn’t do that to another baby. I just couldn’t”
“No, this doesn’t make sense. It’s not adding up. There has to be more to it.” Fatima was not accepting this line of argument at all.
“I know it’s my own fault, but you don’t know what it’s like carrying and having a baby for someone that is such a big stress in your life. You have no idea what that feels like.”
Fatima thought about how impossible it would be for her to get through her pregnancies without Ali's love and support. She also knew how vulnerable she felt when she was pregnant, even though she was secure in her marriage. “I understand that. I just feel so sad about it. No matter what, Joshua and Jonah are such beautiful boys and a blessing to all of us. I just think that with all the support you have you could have made it work.”
“For some things there is no substitution,” Rachel said as she played with her fork.
Fatima knew that was definitely true.
“I just wanted to cut ties with him completely. I figured this was as good a time as any. I actually thought I might move,” Rachel added.
Rachel did not want to tell Fatima how scared she really was of Jamie. It was better if she just moved away and got as far away from Jamie as possible. Everyone would be better off, she thought.
“Move where? Why? What about the boys?” Fatima showed her confusion and concern in her eyes.
“I haven’t figured all that out yet. I just think it might be best. I need to put distance between me and Jamie. Maybe if he doesn’t know where to find me for a while that will change things. I’ll take the boys with me, or not. I don’t really know yet.”
“Running is not going to solve your problems. It is not the location that’s all wrong. It’s just you Rachel. You have to fix you. You might think it will be easier if you go, but it will be much better to do it right here, with all of us here to support you. You can’t just get up and go to I-don’t-know-where; and leave the boys? No. You definitely can’t take them away from everyone and start all over. Who will help you take care of them?”
“I’m a big girl now. I can do it.” Rachel knew she did not have a plan, just a desperate need to start her life over, get away from Jamie and make sure that her friends and family did not get caught in the middle. She had a decent job working with the Bell Canada, but she could find another job. Maybe she could get transferred to another office.
“Fatima, Jamie is not small time any more. He knows some serious people. And they are not all street people either. They’re professionals, business people, and politicians. He can make a lot of trouble.”
“Rachel, he’s nothing. He can’t do anything. Stop giving him all this power. Where are you Rachel? This is not you. Has he threatened you? We can call the police. You know you should have done that a long time ago. Maybe you can get a restraining order. I can’t believe the nerve of him. Threatening the mother of his kids? Not that he cares about them anyway.
“I don’t even know why he shows his face around here. He’s just trying to mess with your head. He’s slowly taking more and more control because you’re letting him. Only you can stop this Rachel. Maybe I should go and talk to him. Why, I’ll just go to the police myself. Or maybe I’ll call Shawn, he’s a lawyer. He’ll know what to do.” Fatima went on and on. She was like a faucet that had been left running. She didn’t even notice Rachel’s growing agitation.
“Stop!” Rachel put her hands to her face, tensed her body then let out all the breath in her lungs as she fully relaxed then said. “Fatima, it’s not me he wants to hurt.” She paused not knowing how to tell her best friend the truth. “It’s Ali.”

NEXT POST ON FRIDAY...

CHAPTER THREE

2009-10-22T22:28:00.002-04:00

When Fatima arrived the other ladies had already been seated and were engaged in chit-chat. Naomi’s home as usual smelled sweet. When they were kids they always made an excuse to come inside. They had to use the washroom or they were hurt. Then they would start sniffing. “Hmm, I smell something,” would always be the standard line. Naomi would smile her knowing smile and say, “I wonder what it could be? Maybe it’s window cleaner. I just did the windows.”
“No, that’s not it,” the child would say.
“Maybe it’s laundry soap? I did the laundry this morning.”
“No, I think it’s something to eat?” They would say.
“Oh,” Naomi would put her hand to her head as though the answer had just come to her. “Could it be this?” Then she would lift a cover from a dish to reveal her treat of the day. It might be cookies or cake or her special tarts. Whatever it was they all loved them just as much as Naomi loved making them. But they knew Naomi got the most joy out of seeing people eat her food. She was the same way now. As Fatima entered the house the same familiar sweet aroma coming from her kitchen had comforted her immediately.
“Ms. Naomi? It’s Fatima,”
“Come on in. We’re all waiting for you.” Naomi called from the upper level.
Fatima climbed the stairs from the small foyer to reach the living room. “Sorry I’m late.” Fatima kissed Naomi on the cheek, and hugged her. She took a seat beside Mama and turned to greet the other ladies.
There were three women seated in Naomi’s living room. Sister Harrison, Sister Charles and Sister Barclay were all seated and ready to start the session. Sister Harrison was about 30 years old. She was the church secretary and the mother of three small children. She was cute and perky with what Fatima liked to call a ski slope nose. She had her black hair cut in a chin length bob. She was the first to greet Fatima.
“Hi, just call me Susan.”
Sister Charles was in her late 40’s and had a very stern look about her. It was said that when you got to know her she was the warmest, most generous person. Just don’t get on her wrong side. She ran all the children’s programs, and was part of the visiting committee. She was said to have a firm but loving hand.
Sister Barclay was about 60 and very friendly in a grandmotherly sort of way. Fatima knew her well. She was always in the neighbourhood visiting Naomi and taking her to appointments when the rest of the family was not available.
“Fatima, darling it’s so good to see you again.” Sister Barclay said.
“Thank-you Sister Barclay, it’s good to see you too.”
Sister Barclay looked at Naomi. “I noticed your lovely garden. I can’t wait to see all the flowers come in. They were so beautiful last year. I was admiring the yard before I came in. Lilies are my absolute favourite. I just love them.” She then turned to Fatima, “Naomi told me about the mystery gardener.”
“Yes, that’s my Ali,” Naomi said with pride. “He planted everything just the way I told him to. Even though I can barely see, when the sun shines just right I can see them.” Naomi smoothed out her blouse over her trousers the way she usually did when she had finished making a point.

“Well we are expecting a few others, but we can get started. I know the ladies have a lot of questions. Maybe we can start by introducing ourselves. You all know me I’m Naomi and I have three children. I live with Rachel, my youngest and her two sons, the lights of my life, Joshua and Jonah. I arranged this meeting because the sisters in my ladies group have a real interest and curiosity in the lives of Muslim women, and who better to ask than Muslim women.”
The ladies all introduced themselves and more members of the ladies group arrived as did a few more friends of Fatima and Mama. Then the questions started.
“Do you guys have arranged marriages? Are you allowed to choose your own husband?” Susan was the first to start talking.
“Absolutely, you choose your own husband. You should take advice from parents and we all want our parent’s blessings. Also parents or friends may introduce potential partners, but in the end it is the choice of the couple.” One of the sisters responded.
“Can you date?” Susan continued.
“No there is no dating in the usual sense. You can talk and get to know the person that way, but there is no relationship before marriage.”
“Then how would you get to know the person?” Sister Charles asked.
“Well, the best ways to know someone are to talk to people who know them. People who live with them, have travelled with them and done business with them. It’s more accurate than trying to figure out if the person they are presenting to you is the real deal.”
“What’s the difference between Muslims and Islam?” Sister Barclay asked.
“Islam is the religion, belief in one God and the belief that Muhammad is His last Prophet and a Muslim is the person who practices the religion of Islam.”
“How do you become a Muslim? Can anybody be a Muslim?”
Fatima was tickled at the eager questioning of the ladies. With all the information available about Islam it still amazed Fatima that the same basic questions were always asked. She was happy for the opportunity to share with these charitable and open minded ladies. “Yes, Islam is for all people and for all times. You become a Muslim by declaring that there is no God but God and Muhammad is His messenger.”
“Who is Allah?” Sister Charles
No matter how many times this questioned had been answered, Christians had the most difficult time accepting the answer. “Allah is the God of the Universe, The God of Adam and Eve and all the Prophets including Jesus and Muhammad. The Arabic word for God is Allah. Christian Arabs also say Allah.”
“So you believe in Jesus.” Susan sat forward in her chair. Fatima sat back and let another sister tackle this question.
“Yes, absolutely we do. We love and revere Him very much and believe He will return at the end of time. The Quran tells us that he did not die on the cross, but Allah made it seem so to the people. Allah rescued Him and took Him up to heaven.”

The questions continued until noon. The ladies asked about family and children and friendship with non-Muslims. They were particularly interested in Mama’s experiences in Rwanda and becoming Muslim and being married to Papa.
“How did you survive during the war?” Susan asked gently.
“Well, the tensions had been growing for weeks. Of course no one imagined that it would end the way it did, but Tutsis were being harassed constantly and even beaten in the streets on a regular basis. We started to get very nervous at the beginning of April.” Mama replied.
“Then we heard that the killings were starting in the villages. My friend told me that we should come to her neighbourhood. It was a Muslim neighbourhood and they were Hutus and Tutsis both living there, as in many neighbourhoods, but these people had vowed not to let anyone enter their neighbourhood and harm anyone.
My husband had said I should go, but he headed to one of the village churches because we heard that many people had gathered there for sanctuary. He decided to stay with them if necessary and he thought he might be able to reason with the death squads if they came.” Mama scoffed at her own mention of the death squads. “Reason with death squads? Can you imagine? How wrong he was. He barely escaped with his life.”
The women hung on Mama’s every word. “He was actually able to keep them off for hours and then negotiations were up and they just started chopping everyone in sight. Papa got his left leg badly injured, but still was able to escape to the bush and make his way to my hiding place, with a few other parishioners.”
“How long did you stay in hiding?” Susan asked.
“100 days.”
“What happened during that time?”
“Several times the death squads came but our neighbours came out with rocks, knives, bows and arrows. They would not let them advance one inch. There was even a case of the squads setting fire to a Masjid, but they were too afraid to enter and kill the people. They thought the Muslims had some kind of magic.” Mama laughed. “It was no magic, just Allah.”
“Why didn’t the Muslims join in the massacre also?” Sister Barclay joined in the questioning.
“Their bond in faith was just more important than ethnicity. We can all learn a lesson from that. They not only protected Muslim Tutsi’s but non- Muslims as well.” Mama sat calmly in her seat as she related her story. “It was well-known that the safest place to be was a Muslim neighbourhood. You know, after the massacre some of those murderers even converted to Islam to hide from prosecution in Muslim neighbourhoods. Some of them were sincere, though. They really wanted to seek purification and ablution from their sins.”
“So no Muslims ever came to harm you?” Susan knit her brow and titled her chin upward.
“Yes, of course there were a few. And you know what they were told, ‘If you dare come to hurt anyone first tear the Quran and denounce your faith.’ Do you think they could do it? Never. They turned away, every one of them.”
“They were coming to murder people, but they would not tear the Quran?”
“They could never do it.”
“Wow.” Susan thought of her own small children and wondered how she could survive something so horrendous. “How old were your children?” she asked.
“Rahma wasn’t born yet, but Ali was ten at the time. That’s when he got the name Ali. Our friends, the people we stayed with started calling him that because every time the men would go out, they had formed a system of watching the neighbourhood and they needed to take turns, you know , Ali would cry and cry because he wanted to go to. He had made his own bow and set of arrows and he would cry to go. They said he was as brave as Imam Ali (as). So we called him Ali from then. When we came to Canada he insisted on taking martial arts, archery, everything. He said never again would he allow people to be hurt while he stood by.” Mama wiped a tear from her cheek.
“What about the rest of your family?” Susan asked
The whole room fell silent while they waited for Mama’s reply. All they could hear was the ticking of the kitchen clock. Fatima who was seated beside Mama moved closer, put one arm around her shoulder and held her opposite hand.
“Most of them, dead. My mother is still missing.” Mama rose to her feet and left the room.
“Oh, we are so sorry.” Susan whispered through her hands that now covered her mouth.
“It’s ok. You didn’t know.” Fatima cleared her throat and adjusted her clothes as she thought of Mama’s anguish not knowing if her own mother were dead or alive and what had happened to her. Mama’s family had been miles away from the church that Papa and she had been working at. When the killings started there was no way to get to them or even get information. It was something that had haunted Mama all these years.
Naomi, let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s have lunch.”
Fatima eager to change the mood of the room, jumped to her feet and offered to help, but when she entered the kitchen she realized that Naomi had prepared everything.
“Ms. Naomi you did everything.”
“Well, with my new kitchen everything is easy now.” Naomi came close to Fatima and patted her hand.
“Wow, Sister Grant this kitchen is amazing. It must have cost a fortune.” Susan stood behind Fatima.
“Yes, I am sure it did. With all these bells and whistles I can cook gourmet meals all by myself.” Naomi’s new appliances all had ridges and Braille overlay and the stove had special easy to use timers and a sound system to alert the user if the stove was on, off, on high, medium or low heat. Everything had large knobs with loud clicking sounds. There was even a master switch in case of emergency or doubt to turn off everything in the kitchen at once. The floor had special markers to remind her where she was without having to touch anything.
The ladies helped themselves to an assortment of finger foods, casseroles and desserts and of course Naomi’s famous fruit tarts.
“So Fatima, your husband is a point guard for the Razors?” Sis Charles inquired.
“Yes, he is.” Fatima was used to having people ask her about her husband and their relationship.
“Oh, I have seen him, such a handsome boy.” Sister Barclay said as she took a seat in the living room just steps away from the kitchen.
“Thank-you, he looks just like my husband.” Mama had re-emerged from the back room and was looking as fresh as ever. She was a pretty woman. Her dark skin was smooth and youthful and her brown eyes were round and soft. She was about 5’7 but had a small frame. Still her presence was unforgettable.
“That’s not all true Mama. He’s a lot like you. He may have Papa’s height and some of his features but he has your bone structure and your voice. He has your beautiful rich voice.” Mama indeed had a beautiful voice. Although Papa had taught their children the basics of Quran reading she had taught them to recite Quran and Dua in the most breath taking way. No matter how many times Fatima heard Ali recite; it still swelled her heart and brought tears to her eyes.
“Either way he is gorgeous. How do you deal with the groupies?” Susan asked as she bit into a tart.
“Well...” before Fatima could answer Mama interrupted.
“There are no groupies.” Mama answered in her stern way. “We have trained our son well and we could send him safely to the moon. I am sure of that.”
Susan cleared her throat. “I see,” she said in her perky little way.
“Well,” Fatima added carefully after taking a seat in the kitchen, “in his first year of playing his father travelled with him all the time. He was so young, you know. They wanted to make sure he was ok on the road. And after we got married Papa insisted that I travel with him. It was tough, because I had just started University, but it worked out. We actually had a lot of fun that first year.”
“What about now?” Susan raised her eyebrows over her cup of tea.
“Well, it’s harder now, with three little ones but we’re all pretty comfortable with the arrangement. Still if he needs me I’m there. I have so much support here it’s fairly easy to pick up and go if I have to.”
“Does that ever happen? Will he just call and ask you to come?”
“Sure. Not often, but it has happened,” Fatima replied.
“And what, you just drop everything and go?” Susan pressed.
“No questions asked.” Fatima shrugged.
Susan chuckled and lifted her tea cup. “I would too, if I were you. You just never know.”
“Ok, leave the girl alone, enough about her business; this is not a meeting to discuss her marriage.” Naomi interrupted.
“Oh but it’s so interesting. A young Muslim basketball player and his family right here in the neighbourhood. You know I need all the details.” Susan squealed.
The women continued to eat and talk for one hour, then started to leave. “Well, thank-you all for coming.” Naomi seemed truly pleased at the success of this first meeting.
“We should do this again. There is so much more I want to know. It was so much fun.” Susan piped up.
“Yes, it certainly was informative. How about next week, same time?” Sister Charles suggested.
“Sounds great. Let’s consider it confirmed. Fatima, could you stay for a minute. I want to talk to you.” Naomi said.
“Sure.”
After the ladies had left, Fatima sat beside Naomi. “Did you want me to help you clean up?”
“No, no, I just wanted to talk to you.” Naomi paused and turned her face towards Fatima. “Is Rachel ok?”
Fatima a little nervous, responded with a question, “What do you mean?”
“Well, she didn’t go to the swim club this week, and you know how committed she is to coaching.” Naomi paused as if wondering if she should continue. “And a few weeks ago, Jamie was here.” Naomi nervously folded her hands in her lap.
“A few weeks ago? Are you sure?” Fatima thought Rachel had said it had been months since the last time she had seen him.
“Yes, I saw him,” Naomi insisted.
Fatima widened her eyes and looked doubtful. “Ms Naomi, you saw him?”
“Yes, my sight comes and goes. Sometimes I can see a little. The doctor thinks it’s my imagination, but I know it was Jamie that day.”
Fatima kept listening.
“After that day she was acting strange you know, real quiet and sulky. Then yesterday after you dropped her home she was real sick that night. She went straight to bed.”
Fatima smiled. “Ms Naomi, how did you know that I dropped her home?”
“Fatima please; you know I know your car. I heard you drop her off and I heard her sneak in and go to her room. I also heard her crying all night.” Naomi’s face became red and she flared her nostrils.
Fatima knew how difficult it had been for her since her husband had died. She had become a completely different person after the accident. Naomi never fully recovered after the shock of losing her husband and always felt guilty that she had not been emotionally and psychologically available to help her children through their difficult time.
Now she wanted only to connect with Rachel and help her raise her sons, but Rachel always seemed like she was avoiding spending any real time with Naomi. Fatima knew this caused Naomi deep sadness.
Fatima remained silent for a full minute trying to avoid a response. Naomi waited. “Well, I am sure she will be fine.” Fatima finally responded.
“You are a good friend Fatima.” Naomi patted her hand. “I know you won’t betray her trust. Just make sure she gets what she needs, please?”
“Of course.” Fatima was almost embarrassed by Naomi’s comments. Naomi knew that Fatima was withholding information, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t tell Naomi about what had happened to Rachel. It was not her place to do so.
Naomi started to wag her finger. “I told her if that boy comes around she should just call the police. He is up to some trouble. I can just smell it. He usually comes at night. No shame that boy has, no shame I tell you. She has enough reason to get a restraining order. I don’t know why she won’t do it. Talk to her please Fatima, maybe you can get through to her.”
“I will,” Fatima promised and she intended to keep it. She would talk to Rachel later today.

Fatima smiled to herself as she walked home. How did these old people know everything? You could not put anything past them at all. Well, it was good. We all need people looking out for us, Fatima thought.
So, Jamie was here. Fatima couldn’t get that out of her mind. Rachel hadn’t told her that. Why not? What had happened? Why was he here two weeks ago? Why didn’t we see him? He usually made a big production out of his visits. It stayed on Fatima’s mind all day.

Next Post on Monday...

CHAPTER TWO

2009-10-20T19:23:00.003-04:00

Fatima stretched in her bed and looked up at her ceiling. She still smiled every time she saw it. Ali had written a poem on the ceiling in their bedroom when they had bought the house.
She still had no idea how he managed to do it, but he did and it was complete before they had moved in. Whenever he had out of town games it gave her comfort knowing it was there. She always slept peacefully as a result
Today she woke up feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. How could her best friend have been going through something so terrible and not have confided in her? Yesterday it seemed that she was so angry with Rachel. She definitely was, but she was also angry with herself. If she had been the kind of friend that she should be then she should have known something was wrong. Rachel should have felt comfortable to come to her. She was partly to blame for this whole mess. How could she not have seen the signs? Was she so engrossed in her own family that she had neglected someone so close to her that was in need? She could never let that happen again.

She heard the front door and knew Ali was returning from his parent’s house. Every morning he joined his father for Fajr prayers and often had breakfast with Mama and Papa before returning home. In good weather Fatima would go with him and bring their girls, but on days like today she was so happy that the best place for a woman to pray was her bedroom. She smiled to herself and snuggled under her duvet.
Her room faced the front of the house and with the window open she could clearly hear the birds playing. They were lucky enough to have blue jays nesting nearby. She loved the beautiful bluebirds and had one in particular that she was trying to teach to talk. She imagined them splashing in the backyard fountain in between the trees. Ali had planted a fruit tree each time a child was born. He had planted an apple tree for Masuma, a cherry tree for Laila and pear tree for Batool.

“Ali, should I put Fatima’s food in the fridge?”
Fatima could hear Rahma’s voice. She was Ali’s younger sister and she often came over in the morning to help with the kids or just socialize. Fatima’s house always had more action than hers anyway.
“No, just leave it on the table. I’ll see if she’s up yet.”

“Ali, do you think I’m a good friend to Rachel?” Fatima hit him with the question as soon as he walked in the bedroom door.
At 6 feet 4 inches Ali had an undeniable presence. Many people were intimidated on first meeting him because of his serious demeanour. Only those closest to him knew the warm and loving man that he could be. Though he indeed viewed and approached life seriously, anyone who was fortunate enough to catch one of his smiles knew there was more to him than what appearances revealed.
“Of course, you are, the best, actually. Who else would do all that you do for her?” Ali replied.
“Do you think I’m trust worthy?” Fatima sat up surrounded by white bedding, her current favourite colour. She had become obsessed with the colour lately.
“I trust you with my life.” Ali said as he sat on the side of the bed. “What’s this about?”
“Ok well, do you think I’m too hard on her? You know, maybe I make her feel bad sometimes?”
“Ok, I knew something was up.” Ali leaned back on one arm. “Is Rachel ok? Is it something with Jamie?” His voice flattened. They all felt the same way about Jamie. They had seen how he had treated Rachel over the years, and how much their two sons suffered because of his neglect. No one was a fan of Jamie’s and he and Ali had had more than one run in.
“No. no she’s ok. I just was thinking that’s all.” The look on Ali’s face let Fatima know that he knew there was more to the story. She knew he wasn’t going to press her. He knew when to give a woman her space. He stood up and walked toward the walk-in closet that connected the bedroom to the bathroom.
“How are Mama and Papa this morning?” Fatima asked, with a smile on her face. She loosened the scrunchie she had holding her dark hair and let the long layers fall down her back. She loved those two people so much.
“Oh, they’re great. Mama made her traditional welcome home breakfast.”
“She is so funny. She does that every time. Isn’t it reserved for when people return from long trips?”
“Hey, who’s going to argue with Mama?” Ali titled his head raising his eyebrows over eyes that were the colour of iced tea. He flashed his signature smile revealing a dimple in his left cheek.

Mama was from a small village in Rwanda. Papa had been an Italian missionary when they had met. He had spent 15 years in Rwanda building churches and schools and ministering to the people of Mama’s village. He and Mama had married and built a fairly large following. After the massacre in 1994, many people had their faith shaken when they saw Tutsi and Hutus in the same church turn against each other. Some churches had ministers who had preached and supported the killings from the pulpit.
Mama and Papa had been sheltered by Muslim neighbours who had refused to get involved in the violence. Their brotherhood through faith was more significant than ethnicity. Many people were protected in Muslim neighbourhoods until the unrest had ceased. After 100 days, Mama and Papa had emerged to a broken country. They eventually made their way to Canada.
Naturally their interested in Islam had been peeked and after a period of diligent study they had taken shahada, declaring themselves Muslims. Ali had been 10 years old at the time. Rahma was born right after their reversion. Both children were a beautiful combination of their dual heritage. Ali was definitely his father’s son, but with the perfect bronze skin that gave homage to his African ancestry. Rahma had the small neat features of her mother combined with an olive skin tone much closer to her father’s complexion.

“Ok, well I’m going to make some porridge.” Fatima turned down her duvet and started to get out of her bed.
“Don’t bother. I have breakfast for you. It’s on the table.” Ali usually brought her breakfast in the morning. When he was away his parents delivered her food or sent it with Rahma. Mama’s welcome home breakfast was a favourite of Fatima’s because she knew the love and care that went into it. It consisted of traditional Rwandan foods prepared in Mama’s special style.
Fried sweet potatoes, fried plantain, introduced by Fatima, beans and sweet cornbread were always served with fruit salad topped with homemade whipped cream and of course tea. Mama kept a secret mixture of spices for her “save your life” tea. She claimed that if you were on your last leg, this tea would bring you back to life. They had all tried to recreate it but could never get it right. She had promised to reveal the recipe in her will.
“Oh, I’ll eat it. The porridge isn’t for me.”
“Rachel?”
Fatima smiled. Her mother was Jamaican and they had a running joke in the family about the way Jamaicans used cornmeal porridge as an all purpose cure. If you were sick you needed cornmeal porridge. If you were healthy, fat, thin, pre/post surgery, during pregnancy, after childbirth, had an underweight baby, big baby, loss of appetite, digestive problems, hungry or thirsty, all conditions and situations called for cornmeal porridge.
“But she’s ok?” Ali did not sound convinced. “Whatever. I’ll let you ladies have your little secret. I’m going to the gym and I have practice later.”
“Remember Joshua starts soccer tonight.” Fatima stood and started to stretch.
“Of course, I remember. I’ll be back by five.”
Rachel’s oldest son was starting soccer and Ali was coaching the team. They were all so excited to see Joshua growing up. Fatima had always felt a little guilty about the way events had unfolded for her and Ali. The three of them had been best friends growing up. They did everything together. Fatima was an only child and Rachel and Ali were her brother and sister. When she became Muslim and married Ali everything changed. She always felt that she had stolen Rachel’s best friend. Then Jamie turned out to be a dead beat and Rachel was all alone. Fatima just felt obligated to share Ali, at least for the sake of the boys.
“Ali, you’re going to the gym on a full stomach?” Fatima asked.
“Well, I have a few errands to run first. That should give me enough time to digest Mama’s meal.” Ali winked and disappeared into the closet.
Fatima prepared to shower and change into her workout clothes before heading to the kitchen to make Rachel’s porridge and do her yoga routine.

Fatima’s kitchen had been renovated to include stainless steel appliances, floor to ceiling cabinets and an over sized doubled sink kitchen island where she dreamed of making bread and pastry. She had just turned off the stove when she heard the door bell.
“Oooh, baby blue, how cute is that? Does that mean you might actually have a boy this time?” Rachel teased Fatima about her blue yoga outfit that barely covered her growing belly as she walked in the door.
“Will you get in here so I can close the door? Fatima stood behind the door, the way she always did when she answered the door with no hijab.
Rachel stepped into the foyer. It was a large space decorated with mature plants. Islamic calligraphy hung on the walls and in the centre of the foyer a vase of flowers rested on a tall round marble table. To the right a winding stair case led to the upper level of the house. “Well, who told you to come to the door exposed?” Rachel joked with Fatima. “Nobody wants to see you anyway. Now that husband of yours, that’s another story.”
Fatima looked at Rachel and almost felt like she was looking at herself. The two were often mistaken for sisters. They often sported the same haircut; though Fatima’s hair grew fast when she was pregnant and was now well past her shoulders. They had similar features and skin tone. The only major difference was height. Rachel was at least 3 inches taller than Fatima. Still on more than one occasion someone actually thought Rachel was Fatima or vice versa. They always got a kick out of that, especially since Fatima wore hijab and Rachel didn’t.
“You don’t stay down long.” Fatima replied. She looked at her friend intently. She certainly looked better than yesterday. Her spirits seemed up. One could never tell with Rachel though, she used her sarcastic humour as a defence mechanism all too often.
Rachel came in and took a seat at the kitchen table. “How are you feeling?” Fatima asked.
“Ok. I really am sorry about yesterday. I just didn’t know who else to call.”
“I know. It was good that you called me, really. We’ll talk about it later, ok?”
“Thanks.” Rachel replied. She then looked down at her hands on the tiled top table. “I know I don’t need to ask, but you didn’t say anything to Ali did you? I can’t imagine what he would think of me.”
Fatima looked shocked. “Of course not. No need to worry, on both accounts. You know he would never judge you. If anything I think it would just make him angrier at Jamie.”
At the mentioned of Jamie’s name, Rachel shifted nervously in her seat. Fatima noticed and changed the subject.
“Are you hungry?”
“What’s cooking?” Rachel tilted her head.
“Porridge.” Fatima said as she tried to suppress a smile.
“Cornmeal?” Rachel asked
“Of course.”
“The two ladies burst into laughter. “Fati, I am so sorry, forgive me?”
Fatima held Rachel’s face and kissed both sides. “Of course. I just wish you had told me everything. I just wished I could have been there for you. I still don’t understand why you did it. It doesn’t make sense to me. And why are you still allowing Jamie so much access in your life?”
I’m not. “Well, it’s over now. We can move on.” Rachel eager to do that, looked back towards the front door and commented on some socks that were stuffed into Ali’s shoes. “What’s with the socks?”
“He always puts his socks in his shoes when he takes them off. Sometimes one pair will become like a storage place. He’ll have three or four pairs of socks in a shoe. You never noticed?”
“No. Have you talked to him about that?”
“A million times. Anyway, that’s nothing, try looking under the couch, beside the bed, in the computer room, you name it. He says it’s an illness he’s had since childhood. Finally he suggested that we each be allowed one bad habit.”
“You actually agreed to that?
“Sure, I used to get so irate about it, then one day Mama was here and after I told Ali off about it, she looked so hurt. I could have died. I actually think the suggestion came from her.”
“So what’s your bad habit?” Rachel leaned over the table.
“I would never tell you!” Fatima was aghast.
Rachel looked back at the socks again. “Girl, that would drive me mad.”
Fatima smiled mischievously. “You have a man that comes around once every six months, doesn’t support his two sons, has you all hospitalized and you’re talking about socks?”
“No, but come on that’s crazy! You know I’m a neat freak.”
“You’re crazy.” Fatima turned away from Rachel and reached for the pot on the stove.
“No girl, that’s crazy.” Rachel insisted as she pointed at the shoes stuffed with socks. “Thank goodness, he has at least one fault. He was making the rest of us look bad.”
Fatima raised her eyebrows. “One? He has many. I just don’t talk about them. You know that as well as I do. You practically grew up in his house.” Fatima served Rachel her porridge and sat down across from her with a cup of herbal tea. She would eat her breakfast after her workout.
“So where is everybody?” Rachel asked.
“The girls are still sleeping and Rahma is in the computer room, as usual. Ali is getting ready to go out.” Rahma was 15 and taking online courses for a semester while helping with her father’s non-profit organization as a co-op assignment.
“Make sure Ali knows I’m here. I wouldn’t want to him to come down indecent or anything.” Rachel started to eat. Fatima’s gaze was steady and she didn’t blink.
“He knows you’re here. He’ll let me know when he’s coming down. Anyway, how are you feeling today? You seemed to be in a lot of pain yesterday. Is that normal?”
“I don’t know. Not that I’m an expert or anything. Anyway, I do feel better, but the cramping is pretty bad.”
“Maybe you should call the doctor just to be sure. How is the bleeding?”
“Heavy.”
“Clotting?”
“Don’t ask. I was brave to come over here. I feel like I should just spend the day in the washroom.”
“Just call them at least. Make sure.” Fatima was concerned.
“Fatima” Ali called from the second floor. Fatima stood and walked to the bottom of the stairs to let him know that it was fine for him to come down. When he arrived in the kitchen he greeted Rachel.
“Rachel, how are you doing?”
“Good.” Rachel eyed him from head to toe. “Where are you off to so early?’
“The gym.”
“You’re not dressed for the gym.” Ali wore casual pants and a knit top.
“I have some errands to run first. Is that ok with you?” Ali joked.
“I’m just saying, you are a ball player. It’s not like you’re not used to going around in sweats. It must be something special.” Rachel continued eating.
“Fatima, I’ll call you later” Ali started to put on his shoes.
Ali opened the door and walked across the stone porch. Rachel stood in the double doorway and called after him, “Don’t be mad Ali, you know Fati is my girl, I just have to make sure everything is on the up and up over here.”
Fatima laughed and shook her head, “Did I mention you were crazy?”

“Look you’ve got mail.” Rachel took the mail from the box and handed several envelops to Fatima.
“Thanks.” Fatima flipped through the letters and junk mail and stopped at one piece of mail addressed to Ali. It was from a lawyer’s office. She didn’t recognize the name or address. It was not even from their city. That’s strange. What could it be about? “Why don’t you open it?” Rachel had not left Fatima’s side after giving her the mail.
Fatima dropped her hand, removing the letter from Rachel’s line of vision. “Girl, do you always have to be in my business?”
“I’m just saying, I’m standing right here. You want me to pretend I don’t see it? You know I can’t lie. Me, I would open it.” Rachel closed the door behind them.
“I can’t do that. I’ll just give it to him later.” Fatima turned the envelope over in her hand.
“What could it be about?’ Rachel pressed.
“I don’t know.”
“And you’re the wife, so you know I don’t know.” Rachel stepped aside allowing Fatima access to the kitchen.
Fatima continued to look at the envelope as if the answer could come through the paper. “Strange.”
“Fati, are you ok?”
“Sure.” Fatima answered mindlessly.
“Are you sure?” Fatima didn’t respond. She placed the letter with the rest of the mail in the mail holder and returned to finish her cup of tea.
“So, Fatima what plans do you have today?” Rachel asked.
“Well, after I workout I have a meeting with your mom.”
“Really, what’s that about?”
“She’s having some of the ladies from her church group over for lunch, they really wanted to meet some Muslim women and talk about Islam. I guess they have a lot of questions.”
Naomi was a devout Christian who had family roots in Canada for generations. Her great-great-grandparents had travelled through the Underground Railroad to settle in Southern Ontario. Rachel’s father had been from the Caribbean.
Naomi had raised three children by herself since Rachel was 10. She had suffered through depression and had lost her older children to foster care because she had been unable to care for them. Mama had seen the writing on the wall and taken legal guardianship of Rachel just before the CAS was called in. Rachel had lived with her for a few years until Naomi was able to regain custody of her. By then the older children were living on their own. Rachel’s older brother and sister had moved to different cities and rarely kept in touch aside from the occasional phone call.
Naomi had developed diabetes in later years and was legally blind as a result. In spite of all of her problems, she was a ray of light and full of love and happiness. Fatima loved her as much as she did her own mother and Mama.
Fatima’s mother was also a single parent and always busy. She was an archaeologist and her work took her around the world. She had named her daughter Fatima after the famous Portuguese city. She had fallen in love with it on one of her trips. She had also met her husband there. He had been in the city of Fatima working on a project for a British Museum.
Due to her mother’s frequent travel Fatima often turned to Naomi and Mama when she needed that motherly guidance.
Today Fatima was happy to spend time with Naomi’s church sisters and was always thrilled to have the opportunity to talk about Islam, especially if it meant dispelling myth’s and misunderstandings. Mama would attend the meeting with her.

“Remember you need to see the doctor, or at least call or something.” Fatima reminded Rachel.
“Yes, I will for sure. I better get out of here and let you get ready.” Rachel had finished her breakfast and gotten up to leave. “Take care Fatima, thanks for everything.”
“Ok. Let me know what happens.”
After Rachel left the house Fatima cleaned up the kitchen and started her yoga routine. The girls were still sleeping. Fatima was not going to wake them up if she didn’t have to. Rahma would stay with them while she went to Naomi’s.