What We Learned Along the Way (28 page)

“Oh, I’m happy about that, but did you have
to turn into a grandma to do it? Damn!”

“A grandma! So, I’m a grandma now? A woman
wears a short skirt and she’s a whore. She puts some clothes on and
she’s a grandma. Well, which one do you want, Langston, because I
can’t give you both! What do you want from me?”

He took a second to calm down. He didn’t want
to get in a yelling match.

“I just want you to be yourself. Even in your
short skirts, you were never a whore. Is that what you thought? I
loved the way you dressed.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did. You and every other
guy in the world loved the way I dressed.” He laughed to himself
for a second.

“Okay, so some of your outfits were pushing
it, but you just had that energy. You were like this ball of beauty
and light. I miss that, baby. It’s like you traded all that in for
hijab.”

“You do all this talk about how I look so
pretty in hijab and how you’re so happy that I’ve gotten more into
the religion, and now you want me to take it off? I don’t believe
this!”

Langston was starting to get frustrated,
too.

“Did I say anything about taking it off?
Why’s everything so black and white with you? You’re either a
boring homebody, or an out of control hellion? Is there no balance?
I know you’re making changes in your life. I am too. But it’s like
you’re a completely different person now. Where’s the fun-loving,
spontaneous, take-charge woman I fell in love with?”

“Boring! You think I’m boring?” Aliya said in
disbelief. “Well, it’s hard being fun and spontaneous when you’re
busy raising someone else’s child!” The room grew silent. Aliya
regretted what she said the second she said it. Her eyes began to
fill with tears immediately. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. You know I
didn’t mean that. I love Harlem. That didn’t come out right,” she
sputtered, trying to apologize.

Langston didn’t say a word, but she could see
the anger in his face. Whenever he got mad, the veins in his
forearm would pulse. Aliya had never seen them pulse this hard
before. He wouldn’t even look at her. He stood up from the table,
took his plate over to the sink and slammed it in so hard that the
glass shattered and cut his finger deeply. Aliya saw the blood
gushing and ran over to try to dab it with paper towels. He
shrugged her off. She tried again. He shrugged her off again, this
time harder. He wrapped a dish towel around his hand and left the
kitchen without saying a word. Aliya followed him through the
living room and into the garage. She watched him get into his
car.

“Where are you going?” Aliya yelled with
tears streaming down her face. “I said I’m sorry. Let’s talk about
this.” Langston sat in the car patiently and waited for the garage
door to open. He looked like he didn’t even hear her through the
glass. Aliya tried to open the car door, but it was locked. She
could hear music blasting from the speakers. “At least tell me
where you’re going,” she pleaded. No response. Aliya backed away
when she heard the rev of the engine. She stood there, her shirt
wet with tears, and watched him drive off.

Jaime was doing a lot better. The twins were
nearly seven months and she was starting to get the hang of being a
mother. Joseph was relieved that he could finally relax and put an
end to his one-man parenting show. Before Jaime came out of her
depression, he was starting to feel like he was burning the wick at
both ends.

“When did you say your mother gets here?” he
yelled from the bathroom.

“On the 15th. That’s Saturday,” Jaime
replied. “Her flight gets in at 10:30 in the morning. I figured I
could drop you off at work and keep the car to go get her,” she
said, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“That’s fine. I can’t believe your mom is
really coming. What did your dad say about all this?” Joseph’s
toothbrush bobbled up and down in his mouth as he talked.

“I don’t know. She said she was going to come
visit the babies for a while. She didn’t mention daddy.”

“But doesn’t that sound weird?” he asked,
removing the toothbrush and rinsing his mouth. “Your mom usually
wouldn’t even go to the mailbox without your dad’s permission. I
can’t imagine her coming all this way without having to clear it
with him.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he gave her his
approval.”

“So, he’s not mad at you anymore? He’s
forgiven you?”

“No, from what I hear he’s still pretty mad,”
she said matter-of-factly.

“Then why would he approve of her coming if
he’s still mad?”

“I don’t know, Joseph. What is this? Twenty
Questions?” She was getting annoyed.

“It sounds odd that your mom would pop up
after all this time. I’m just trying to get more information.”

“I’ve given you all the information I have.
Anything else you want to know, you’ll have to get from her when
she gets here.”

“You know, I’ve always liked your mom. I
remember when I was little and used to try to sell candy after
jummah. She would always buy some. Some weeks, she would be the
only person to buy. She was my best customer.”

“That’s my mom. She’ll do anything to
help.”

“Now, your dad, he was a little different. I
remember I tried to sell him a chocolate bar once. He yelled at me
and gave me speech about how candy was bad for children and how I
needed to focus on more manly things that would benefit me in the
hereafter.” He paused for a second. “I was only nine.”

Jaime burst into laughter. “Yep, that sounds
like daddy. Always so serious.” She couldn’t stop laughing.

“It’s not funny. I was traumatized after
that. I couldn’t sell candy for a whole year. The mere sight of
chocolate still gives me chills.”

The two of them laughed. They loved to laugh.
It was exactly what they needed after the year they’d had. They
took advantage of the twins napping and decided to have a picnic on
their living room floor. They moved the furniture out of the way
and spread a blanket on the floor. Even though it was midday and
sunny, Jaime closed the curtains and lit candles to make it more
romantic.

“You know, this is the first time we’ve
really done something romantic,” Jaime said as she stretched out on
the fluffy blanket.

“Really?” Joseph said. He was devouring a
chicken sandwich and was only vaguely aware of what his wife was
saying.

“The whole time we’ve been together, it’s
been so chaotic. You know, with everything going on. We’re finally
able to relax and enjoy each other.”

“Umm hum,” he said with a forkful of potato
salad in his mouth.

Jaime laughed. She stared at her husband in
amazement. To be as thin as he was, she couldn’t figure out where
he put it all. Because of her depression, she hadn’t been cooking
much and Joseph was helpless in the kitchen. Most of their meals
consisted of whatever he could pick up from the drive-thru on the
way home. Now that she felt well enough to cook, Joseph was in
heaven. He couldn’t stop himself. It had been so long since he had
eaten home ---cooked food.

“Slow down. The food isn’t going anywhere,”
she joked. He didn’t respond. He was too busy concentrating on the
task at hand. She knew he wasn’t paying her much attention, but she
didn’t mind. It was enough just to enjoy the peace. She couldn’t
remember the last time she could actually relax.

“Whoo, baby. You outdid yourself this time.
What’d you put in this?” Joseph asked, holding up his second
chicken sandwich.

“Just the usual: chicken, bread, lettuce, a
little mayo. Nothing special,” she shrugged.

“Well, maybe my standards are really low from
all that fast food, because this is the best chicken sandwich I’ve
ever tasted. It was as if French chefs flew in directly from France
and prepared it for me themselves,” he said in his best French
accent, which was horrible.

“Yes, you must have really been hungry,
because I know it wasn’t all that. But my lamb kabobs, now that’s
another story. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted them. It’s a
family recipe, passed down for generations. My grandma taught me
when I was little. I loved my grandma. I wish you could have met
her,” she said fondly.

Jaime’s grandmother died when she was 16, but
every year before that, she would visit her in Egypt. When she was
younger, the whole family would go, but at age13, she started
making the journey on her own. Her grandmother was born in
Alexandria and had lived there all of her life. She visited America
a few times, but would never consider leaving her homeland, not for
a place so “God-less,” as she called it.

Jaime missed her trips to Egypt. She swore
that as soon as the children were old enough, she and Joseph would
take them there. She thought 2 was a good age, but Joseph was
leery. He wanted to wait until they were at least 5 or 6.

“How do you plan on taking 2-year-old twins
on a day-long plane ride across the ocean? And what about diseases?
Couldn’t they get malaria or something like that?”

“Where do you think I’m taking them, the
middle of a jungle? They’ll be fine. My mom started taking me when
I was 2.”

“That’s different. I bet you were a mature 2.
Mentally and emotionally, you were probably closer to 5.” Joseph
was only partially joking. As far back as he could remember, Jaime
had been mature for her age. When he met her at 6 years old, she
seemed to have the quiet sophistication of a 10-year-old. That was
part of what attracted him to her. He always liked older women.

Jaime thought back to herself at age 6.
“You’re right. I was pretty mature,” she said, straightening her
posture and using her most intellectual sounding voice. “But I
still think 2 is a good age.”

“What can some two-year-olds do in Egypt
other than wreak havoc? It’s not like they’ll be old enough to
enjoy themselves. And they won’t even be able to remember it when
they get older.”

“I still think it’s a nice age to start, but
we’ve got more than enough time to discuss it,” she said as she
cleared the leftover food from the blanket and carried it into the
kitchen. Joseph followed her.

“It would be nice to visit Egypt, though. I’d
get to meet the part of your family that gave you that good hair,”
he said with a chuckle.

“Now, Joseph, I thought you were evolved past
that backwards, oppressive thinking. There’s no such thing as good
hair. You should know that.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Malcolm. I was just
joking,” he said, quieting his wife. Joseph really was joking. He
didn’t subscribe to the “good hair/bad hair” school of thought, but
he did like his wife’s hair. He had never considered himself a
“hair” man. Out of modesty, he had trained himself not to focus on
women’s physical features, so he didn’t think much about Jaime’s
hair, until he actually saw it. It was jet black and thick, and
full of cute little ringlet curls that, when stretched, reached the
middle of her back. He had always thought that he wouldn’t care if
his wife had long or short hair, but now that he actually was
married, he was sure that long hair was his preference.

Jaime chuckled as she walked into the bedroom
to check on the children. Hayyat was awake and lying quietly in her
crib. She was the more relaxed one of the two. It didn’t take much
to please her. She was the type of baby that could sit and play
with her fingers for hours. Jaime always thought that Hayyat was
more like Joseph. Joseph Jr. was more like her. He was feisty and
wouldn’t hesitate to let out a loud cry if something wasn’t just
right.

“It’s a wonder you can be so peaceful,” she
said to her daughter as she lifted her from the crib. “Considering
all the chaos that went on while I was pregnant, I just knew you
were going to be born with a nervous tick.” She looked at the baby
like she thought she really understood her words. She tip-towed
toward the door, cradling the child. “Now, let’s get out of here
before we wake your brother.” She turned the light off and cracked
the door.

“Look who’s awake,” she said as she came back
into the living room with the baby. “What’s that?” she asked
Joseph.

“The check,” he said, showing it to her.
“This money Rashad’s been sending is really helping out. I’ve
gained back some respect for him.” He couldn’t see Jaime, but he
could tell she was making a face. Despite his monetary
contributions, Jaime was still upset with Rashad. If it were up to
her, they wouldn’t accept a dime of that money, but that was one
issue Joseph had definitely put his foot down on. She wanted to say
something, but she could tell by the look on Joseph’s face that he
didn’t want to hear it. She decided to keep her comments to
herself.

Jaime couldn’t help but think about Mariam
and what it must be like for her to watch her husband send child
support payments to a person she thought was her best friend. She
tried not to think about it too much, but every time they got one
of those checks, Mariam popped into her mind. She forced herself to
think about something else. She couldn’t risk slipping back into
that ugly depression. She shook her head, as if forcing the thought
out of her mind. “So where should we put my mom?” she asked,
changing the subject.

“I was thinking we could give her our room.
She’ll love that new mattress.”

“I was thinking the same thing. We could
squeeze in with the kids, or camp out in the living room. I’ve
always wanted to go camping.”

“You have?” Joseph asked in disbelief. In all
the years that he had known her, she never came across as the
camping type.

“No, not really. I was just trying to sound
enthusiastic,” she admitted.

“Nothing wrong with a little enthusiasm. What
do you have planned for you and your mom to do?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t plan anything. I
figured she’d want to spend a lot of time with the babies.”