Ayesha At Last(65)

Everyone paused. “You mean The Great Gatsby,” Ayesha said. “I’m not sure that’s the right theme for an Islamic event.”

Hafsa shook her head. “Ashi Apa, you should leave the event planning to the experts. Trust me, it’s perfect. You know how there was Prohibition in the 1920s? And we’re like a Muslim conference and don’t drink alcohol? Plus, those flapper dresses are loose, like abayas, and all the men can wear three-piece suits, and we can maybe play some jazz music to get everyone in the mood.”

“We’re planning a conference, not a costume party, Hafsa,” Ayesha said. “What’s next, give everyone a Tommy gun in their swag bag, and open a speakeasy in the gym?” Ayesha and Khalid shared a smile.

Hafsa caught the glance between them and stood up, furious. “You know what? I don’t need this. This conference sounds super boring. I’m leaving!” She flounced out of the room.

Ayesha sighed, but Tarek stood up. “I’ll go talk to her,” he said, just as the door was flung open and Farzana entered.

“Imam Abdul Bari, I have arrived!” she announced.

The imam’s smile tightened. “Welcome, Sister Farzana,” Abdul Bari said. “We weren’t expecting you, but please join us.”

“You cannot stop me from attending this meeting!” Farzana said, hands on hips. “I am a member of the executive board. Everything that happens in this building is under my domain!” She took a seat at the head of the table and Khalid sunk low in his chair.

Tarek, still standing, looked as if he had seen a ghost. His breathing was shallow as he lowered himself into his seat.

The imam cleared his throat, smile stapled to his face. “You are always welcome, Sister Farzana. I value input from all community members.”

Ayesha was impressed with Abdul Bari’s people management skills. She knew he was a veteran of seven mosques and was likely familiar with people like Farzana: They were both the sources and disseminators of all community gossip. Except Farzana was even worse than an idle gossip, Ayesha realized. She was an active troublemaker, so consumed with the need to control those around her that she would even lie to her own son. Ayesha struggled to remain calm. It would be no use making a scene, not here.

“We were just about to decide on a marketing tag line for the conference. Two suggestions previously raised were ‘Muslims in the Twenty-First Century,’ or ‘Beyond the Sands of Time: Examining Faith in the Modern World,’” Imam Abdul Bari said to the group.

Farzana looked disgusted. “This is what you have been wasting your time on, Khalid? Themes and silly discussions? How are you going to make any money for this mosque?”

The imam, no doubt spotting a chance to get rid of Farzana, said, “I’m afraid this is all dull work, Sister. I’m sure your talents are better employed elsewhere.”

“No, no—the problem is that your choices are terrible and you are wasting too much time in pointless debate. The theme will be ‘Islam: The Only Pure Choice.’ I’ll order a banner and flyers tomorrow. As for the tag line, let’s keep it simple: ‘Follow Islam, Stay Pure.’ The colours will be white and green, like the Pakistani flag.”

“Sister Farzana, you can’t just bulldoze our meeting,” Ayesha said, her resolve to be quiet rupturing with an almost audible crack.

“You don’t think Islam is the only pure choice?” Farzana asked. “What kind of a Muslim are you?”

“You’re twisting my words,” Ayesha said, her face turning red.

“Perhaps it is your heart that is twisted. Everyone knows you were impersonating your cousin Hafsa for several weeks. Jealousy is so ugly in a woman.”

Ayesha was shocked but didn’t back down. “Insults are not going to work, Farzana Aunty. You have two options: Stay and contribute to the discussion in a respectful manner, or leave.”

The two women glared at each other. Farzana turned to the imam. “Abdul Bari, I am appalled at the shameful behaviour of your committee members. The executive board will be hearing about this. Let’s go, Khalid. The caterer is waiting for us.” She stalked out of the room. After a moment of embarrassed silence, Khalid followed.

The imam stood up slowly, a pained expression on his face. “As much as I enjoyed your reprimand, Sister Ayesha, Farzana is a force of nature. Perhaps in the future we should all moderate our tone when dealing with her.”

“She’s a bully!” Ayesha said. Her heart was pounding.

“I am afraid she will make good on her threat to speak to the executive board. I had to fight very hard to get them to agree to the conference in the first place. They only went along with the idea due to our financial problems. I will attempt to calm her down,” Abdul Bari said, and he walked swiftly out of the room, leaving Tarek and Ayesha alone.

Tarek glanced at Ayesha, then away. He seemed quieter since Farzana had arrived, his usual swagger gone. Maybe he disapproved of her words too.

“Come on,” Tarek said to Ayesha, grabbing his car keys. “I’ll drive you home.”

“I can’t stand that woman,” Ayesha said a few minutes later, taking a seat in Tarek’s Lexus SUV. “I can’t believe she’s related to Khalid. He’s so different from his mother.”

“You mean he’s not dogmatic and stubborn about his beliefs?”