Ayesha At Last(88)

Iqram was a skinny man with warm, sepia-toned skin, gangly legs and arms, short black hair and intelligent eyes. He didn’t smile in any of the pictures but stood stiffly, a stance that emphasized his angular features and square jaw. He stared directly at the camera, or more often at his wife. Zareena was smiling in each one.

“I didn’t expect it to happen,” Zareena said, looking at the pictures with Khalid. “It’s not the same as what I felt for . . . him.”

“You never mentioned Iqram in any of your letters. You kept including the things you missed about Canada. You never wanted any of this!” Khalid said. He took a deep breath and said the words he had wanted to say since Zareena had shown up on his porch. Since the day she had left. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I should have spoken up. I should have said something. I knew what Ammi and Abba were planning, but I was a coward.” His voice broke.

Zareena gently took the photo album away from Khalid. “Do you remember what I was like, before?” she asked him. “I was skipping every class, getting drunk on weekends, partying with my friends. I wasn’t doing well and I wasn’t happy. I’m not sure where I’d be right now if I’d kept heading in that direction.”

Khalid shook his head. “That’s no excuse.”

“Sending me to India was awful. What Ammi did was wrong, and I will never forgive her. But I also came back partly to show her that I turned out okay.” Zareena started laughing again. “You know what I just realized? I’m the one who found love after marriage, and you’re the one who fell in love first.”

“I told you, all of that is over.”

Zareena poked Khalid. “I don’t care what you say. You’re not a coward. You never have been.”

Khalid felt lighter at his sister’s words. He put his plate in the sink and stood in the middle of the living room, consumed by a restless energy that made his feet itch. He had to do something. He had to act.

“Why don’t you call Ayesha?” Zareena suggested. “Send her roses. People love to forgive. It makes them feel so magnanimous.”

“I’m not sure that will work.”

“Do you know why Iqram and I are still together? Those first few months he let me know he was all in. He wanted me, no matter the past. If you run away in the face of a little conflict, you’re not ready to settle down.”

Khalid considered his sister’s words. He didn’t have an answer for her. So instead he asked, “Who was the guy? Do I know him?”

Zareena shook her head. “You’re changing the subject. Are you ready for marriage or not?”

“Did you go to school with him?”

“Yes. Now answer my question.”

Khalid sat, mulling this over. “He never contacted you again? Not even after the abortion?”

Zareena was silent. “He came to the airport. I saw him in the crowd, but it was too late.”

Khalid thought this over. “I think about Ayesha all the time. I can see us together so clearly.”

“I haven’t thought about my ex in years,” Zareena said. “I wonder where Tarek is right now, and whether he still thinks about me. I hope he’s moved on, the way I have.”

Khalid froze, and then the blood began pounding through his veins. “What did you say?” he asked, already reaching for his cell phone.

He knew what he had to do now.

HE called Amir.

“K-Man!” Amir yelled.

“I can hear you just fine, Amir. Keep your voice down.”

“Oh, sorry. Let me get out of here.”

Khalid waited, and the thumping bass and music faded.

“I have some good news for you,” Amir said before Khalid could say a word. “You’re going to get your job back.”

Khalid paused. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t get mad. You know that hot HR chick?”

“She has a name. Clara. Use it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, I sort of used our surveillance equipment to bug her office a few weeks ago.”

“Amir!”

“It’s cool. I told her, she hit me, we’re fine. It’s not like she ever stripped in the room or anything. But she did have a lot of very interesting convos with Sheila.”

Khalid paused, then he said, “I can’t think about that now. What do you know about tracking a website? I think Tarek might be running Unveiled Hotties, but I need proof. If we find him, we might find Hafsa too.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Amir said. “Hey, I think I found a place to stay, but I need a roommate. You interested?”

Khalid promised to think about it, and hung up. Next, he texted Idris:

Salams, Mr. Killer Code. How would you like to help find your cousin?

Idris responded immediately: I’m in.

Khalid made one final call, to Imam Abdul Bari. The imam answered after three rings, and his voice sounded hollow.

“What I feared most has come to pass. I informed the executive committee of the actions of Brother Tarek, and the missing money. They were quite angry.”

“What happened?” Khalid asked, his heart sinking.

“There will be an emergency general body meeting on Saturday morning to inform the community of our dire financial situation.” The imam paused. “The mosque will be sold to cover our debts. I have been in touch with Muslims in Action and they are in complete disarray, their reputation in tatters with the disappearance of Brother Tarek. I have also been informed that my services as imam will not be needed following the meeting.”