Ayesha At Last(79)

“Or there’s something wrong with us,” another man, chubby and wearing a wrinkled cotton shirt, chimed in. “I’m thirty-five and single. I was in school and in debt for years. I didn’t want to burden another person with all of that.”

“Allah placed love in your hearts and created you as two separate individuals,” the imam said. “The Islamic view of marriage is not the same as secular romantic love.” He paused, thinking. “I have been married for over twenty-five years, and my wife and I are vastly different people. I think the reason we are still married and happy, most of the time, is because we have learned to forgive each other for not being the Ideal. We accept each other’s limitations.”

The young singles stared at the imam, unimpressed by his prosaic description of married life. Everyone except Khalid, who gripped the imam’s arm hard. “Where is my mother?” he asked.

The imam patted him on the shoulder. “I try never to know the answer to that question.”

Khalid walked swiftly toward the gym.

FARZANA was in the gym with her friends when Khalid approached and asked her if he could have a word in private. They walked outside to the main entrance, where they stood flanked by four large mirrored doors and an imposing stone staircase no one ever used. Khalid and Farzana were alone.

All of the adrenaline from his encounter with Hafsa was still coursing through him, and the imam’s words echoed in his mind. He needed to confront his mother, now.

“The imam is stealing money from the mosque,” Farzana said, interrupting his thoughts. “I have notified the mosque president. I knew Abdul Bari was a crook.”

“Ammi, why don’t you want Zareena to attend my wedding?” Khalid asked.

“I was going to notify the police, but there is no reason to air our dirty laundry in public. We will have him banished from the property. I will hire the next imam, someone young and pliable.”

Khalid looked at his mother in exasperation. “The imam is not a thief. Ammi, why did you send Zareena away?”

“People must pay for their mistakes. It is best if these matters are dealt with quickly and quietly.”

Khalid wasn’t sure if his mother was talking about the imam or his sister. He pressed the issue. “Why didn’t you call her after Abba died? Why haven’t you talked to her since you sent her away?”

“Khalid, you need to focus. The imam is a thief! Make a citizen’s arrest.”

Khalid felt a rising frustration with his mother. Ayesha’s accusations about his sister were painful and had stirred up so many unhappy memories. He wanted to shake his mother out of her rigid thinking. “I send Zareena money every month,” he said abruptly. “We have been in touch for over ten years.”

Farzana started. “Foolish boy. She’s using you.”

“She was seventeen and she made a mistake,” Khalid said.

Farzana drew herself up. “She was an embarrassment, and it was my job to correct her behaviour. She’s lucky I was so gentle.”

Khalid felt disgust at his mother’s words. Had she always been like this, self-righteous and cruel? Was it possible that he had simply never noticed? “She’s your only daughter and you treated her like a criminal. Zareena deserved better.”

“If you won’t confront the imam, I will. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, Khalid. I hope this isn’t Hafsa’s influence.”

Khalid was angry now, and he couldn’t stop the words from slipping from his mouth. “Hafsa and I are no longer engaged.”

Farzana continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It is a good thing your fiancée is so young and well behaved. She will listen to me when I advise her.”

“Ammi, did you hear me? We’re not getting married anymore.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No,” Khalid said. “We’re not.”

Farzana looked at her son for the first time since they had walked out together. He recognized the stricken expression on her face, and his voice softened. He took her hand.

“I want you to be part of my life, Ammi, but it’s time I made my own decisions and learned to live with the consequences. Whatever they turn out to be.”

Farzana snatched her hand away. “You will leave me too. Just like your father and your sister before him.”

Khalid wanted to reassure his mother that he would never abandon her. A part of him wished he could take back his words. He didn’t want to hurt her. But he also felt a sense of lightness and relief. For the first time in his life, he had told his mother what he actually thought about something, and it felt fantastic.

“Yo, K-Man!” Amir stood at the bottom of the staircase. “Your ex-hottie just got in a car with Mr. Shady. I told you to watch out for him. She gave me this.” He held out a Post-It note. “I didn’t read it,” he lied.

Khalid turned to his mother. “Ammi, who told you the imam was stealing the conference funds?”

Farzana wiped her eyes. “Tarek. He’s a good boy. He wanted to warn me.”

Khalid ran down the stairs. He snatched the note from Amir’s outstretched hands and read it quickly. His mother joined him, and her eyes widened as she read over his shoulder.

“The reason I know the imam could not possibly have stolen the conference money is because I set up the website myself,” Khalid said. “All registrants paid directly into the Muslims in Action account, the same account controlled by Brother Tarek. He told me he cleared it with you.”