What We Learned Along the Way (4 page)

“He-lllo?” Kalimah said as she walked into
her sister’s room. “What are you doing? I’ve been knocking on the
door for about 5 minutes.” Malikah was surprised to see her sister.
Ever since she had gotten married, she didn’t come by the house
much.

“Kalimah, what are you doing here? Sorry
about the door. I was on the phone. I didn’t hear you.” She gave
her sister a big hug. “You look great, as usual.” Sometimes,
Malikah couldn’t believe they had come from the same gene pool.

“Thanks. You too,” Kalimah said, giving her
sister a once-over. “So, what’s been going on? Sorry I missed your
birthday yesterday. Adam had this huge charity banquet to go to. He
said it wouldn’t look right for him to show up without his wife.
You should’ve seen the dress I wore. It was…” Kalimah cut herself
off in mid-sentence. “Look at me talking about myself. I came up
here to hear about your birthday.”

Malikah let out a loud sigh. “I didn’t do
much,” she said in a drab voice. She paused for a second. “Except
go to the Divas All-Stars Concert!” she screamed. “Kalimah, it was
great. I was so close I could have been a backup dancer. You should
have seen me, girl. I was getting it.” She grabbed her sister’s
hand and started dancing around the room.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Lika.”
Hearing that nickname took Malikah back to childhood when Kalimah
couldn’t pronounce her name correctly.

“Where is Adam?”

“Adam? He had some work to do. I came over by
myself,” Kalimah answered quickly.

“Adam is one hard working man. I haven’t seen
him since the wedding. You don’t get lonely with him being at work
all the time?” Malikah asked.

“Oh, not really. I’ve made some friends in
the neighborhood, and he calls me a lot from work. He’s really a
great guy.” For a second, Malikah thought she saw a glimpse of the
same pain she had seen in Jaime eyes.

No way. She must just be tired.

“So, what’s married life like?” she asked
with a devious smile. “I want to know everything. Start from the
beginning and talk slow.” Even though Malikah was oldest, she
always felt like the younger one when it came to relationships.

Kalimah laughed. “It’s nice, really nice, but
it gets tough sometimes. Just make sure when you get married, you
choose the right guy.”

“When I get married,” Malikah repeated
flatly. “Right, that’ll happen soon,” she said in a sarcastic
voice.

“It might. You never know. When I met Adam, I
had no idea we’d be married.”

“Yea, but that’s different. Everyone knew
you’d be married, and everyone knows I won’t be.”

Kalimah hated when her sister talked
negatively about herself. “What’s stopping you? You’re beautiful
and intelligent. You just have the wrong attitude. If you don’t
believe you’re a good catch, it’ll be hard for someone else
to.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re gorgeous.
I don’t look like you.”

“Actually, you do look like me. We have the
same eyes, nose and hair. We’re sisters, remember? But even if you
didn’t, who cares? You don’t have to look like me to be beautiful.
You’re just as cute as I am. All you need is a little makeover.”
Kalimah stood up and walked over near the full-length mirror. “Come
stand here,” she said, pointing to the ground in front of the
mirror.

“For what?” Malikah pouted. She hated looking
in the mirror.

“Just be quiet and come,” Kalimah demanded.
Malikah got up sluggishly and walked over to her sister. Kalimah
stood behind her and put her hands on her shoulders. “Stand up
straight. Roll your shoulders back. Look like you have some
confidence. See, that looks so much better,” she said after Malikah
stopped slouching. “You have to learn how to dress for your body.
This shirt is too big. It makes you look sloppy.” Kalimah grabbed
the extra fabric on her sister’s shirt and gathered it in the back,
making the shirt look a lot more fitted. “Now, see how much better
that looks?” she said with a smile. Malikah had always hated her
body, but there in the mirror, it didn’t look so bad. “Now these
pants, on the other hand, are too small,” she said looking down.
“Unless you’re wearing some type of cropped pant, they should never
stop above your ankles. And, contrary to popular belief, a looser
fit would actually make you look leaner.”

Malikah was surprised at how much her sister
knew about fashion. She felt like she was on one of those makeover
shows. “How do you know all this?” she asked.

“You know I’ve always loved clothes; and
since I got married, I’ve been watching a lot of TV, mostly fashion
and makeover shows. And Adam spoils me. I shop a lot.”

“I wish,” Malikah said.

“You don’t have to. Let’s go shopping now!
I’ll give you a real makeover, with clothes, makeup, shoes, hair,
everything!”

“That all sounds nice, but I don’t have money
for any of that.”

“It’s fine. I’ll pay for it,” she said,
fumbling through her purse and pulling out a credit card. “Well,
Adam will pay for it,” she corrected herself.

Malikah didn’t know what to say. She had
never had a makeover before. “Well, in that case, let’s go.” She
had actually starting to get excited, but it soon faded once they
got to the mall. Seeing all the skinny girls trying on the
skinny-girl clothes made her feel really self-conscious. She was
scared to try anything on, because she knew it wouldn’t fit, as
usual. Then would come the standard flood of depression and triple
chocolate ice cream.

“Oooh, this would go great with your skin,”
Kalimah said, holding a purple blouse up against her sister.

“I don’t wear purple. It makes me look like
Barney.”

Kalimah chuckled. “You wouldn’t look like
Barney, but we can try another color. How about this black, silk
tank? It says ‘sophisticated, but still ready to party.’ Ooh, and
then you could pair it with these pants,” she said grabbing a pair
of jeans from the next rack. “And those heels,” she said, running
down the aisle toward a pair of red pumps. By the time Kalimah had
the entire outfit, she was out of breath. “Well, what do you
think?”

Malikah didn’t hear a word her sister said.
She was too busy staring at Muhammad from across the room. Kalimah
noticed that her sister was paying no attention and soon figured
out why.

“Is that Muhammad over there?” she asked. “I
haven’t seen him in so long. He looks really nice.”

“Yea, he does,” Malikah said, finally coming
out of her trance.

“Don’t tell me you still like him? It’s been
about 5 years,” Kalimah said in disbelief. Malikah didn’t respond.
“So, let’s go talk to him,” Kalimah said, reading her sister’s
silence. She grabbed Malikah’s hand and pulled her toward
Muhammad.

“No, no, no!” Malikah yanked her hand away.
“I’m not going over there so I can make a fool of myself.”

“Come on. It won’t be that bad. I’ll go with
you. I’ll talk first. You come in when you feel comfortable, okay?”
Malikah didn’t respond, but she didn’t fight when her sister
grabbed her hand again, either. “Muhammad, is that you?” Kalimah
said as they got closer.

He looked surprised to hear someone yelling
his name, but when he recognized their faces, he smiled warmly.

“Kalimah and Malikah, how are you guys? It’s
so nice to see you.”

“You too. What are you doing in the mall? I
thought guys didn’t like shopping,” Kalimah said.

“Oh, we don’t,” he reassured her. “I’m just
picking up some new basketball shoes.”

“Oh my god, is that entire rack half off?”
Kalimah asked herself aloud. “Excuse me, guys. I think I see a
dress with my name on it.” She winked at Malikah before she walked
over toward one of the racks they had already looked at. Malikah
knew what her sister was doing, and she didn’t like it. With
Kalimah gone, she and Muhammad were left alone. She couldn’t sink
into the background anymore. She had to say something.

“Basketball shoes, huh? I remember you being
really good.”

“I’m alright. It keeps me active. It’s either
that or hit the gym, and I’m not really into weights.”

You could have fooled me with that body, she
thought. But all she said was, “That’s cool.” She was really
nervous. She couldn’t wait until Kalimah came back. Before she
could think of something else to say, a tall, modelesque woman in a
beautiful sparkly hijab walked up and put her arm around
Muhammad.

“You find your shoes, honey?” the mystery
woman asked.

“Not yet, but I see you found a few things,”
he said, looking at the overflowing bags she was carrying.

“I couldn’t help it, baby. They had a big
sale and everything looked so cute on me.” She spoke in an
annoying, whiny voice. Malikah thought she sounded like a little
kid pleading with her father.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Malikah. This is Ameerah, my
wife.” His last words echoed in her mind like he had spoken them in
an empty, carpetless room. Malikah felt her heart drop to the
floor. His wife? Why hadn’t anyone told her he was married? She
tried to hide her shock and greeted his wife like she were actually
happy to meet her. Then she slid her hand in her pocket and
secretly made her cell phone ring.

She jumped, as if the ring scared her.

“That must be Kalimah. She probably needs my
opinion on something. You know how she is, so indecisive. Well,
gotta go.” She walked away as fast as she could, fighting the urge
to run.

“Why are you out of breath?” Kalimah asked
from behind a pile of clothes she had collected in the short period
of time. “And why do you look like that? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Let’s go,” Malikah said
angrily.

“Okay, let me just try these pants on and
then I can…” Malikah didn’t even let her sister finish.

“Now!” she said firmly as she walked toward
the exit. Kalimah put all her clothes down and followed her sister.
Neither of them said anything the entire ride home. Kalimah wanted
to talk to Malikah, but the look on her face warned her not to.
Once they got back to the house, she followed Malikah up to her
room. They sat in silence until Kalimah couldn’t take it anymore.
It only took about a minute.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?”
Kalimah blurted out.

Malikah didn’t answer for a few seconds.
“He’s married,” she finally said.

“Married? Muhammad? When? To who?” Kalimah
looked just as surprised as Malikah was.

“I don’t know. Some spoiled, skinny
girl.”

Kalimah could see how sad her sister was and
tried to comfort her. “Oh, well he wasn’t that cute anyway, and it
looked like his hairline was receding,” she lied.

“He was that cute, and his hairline looked
great. Everything about him looked great, including his Barbie
wife,” Malikah said in a depressed voice. Ever since Muhammad
transferred to her high school years ago, she had had a crush on
him. From his first day of class, he was popular. Partly because he
was so handsome and athletic, but mostly because he had such a
great personality. He was so laid back and nice, not at all
arrogant like the other popular kids. It was like he didn’t even
know he was cool. She had always known that a guy like him was way
out of her league, but that didn’t stop her from dreaming. Finding
out he was married crushed her dream. She couldn’t stand to talk or
think about it anymore. She changed the subject. “It’s getting
pretty late. What time is Adam expecting you home?”

“I’m staying the night,” Kalimah responded
quickly. “Can I sleep in your room?”

“You’re a newlywed. What are you doing trying
to sleep with me?”

“No reason. I just miss my family. So, can I
sleep here?” She sounded slightly irritated.

“Sure, if you want, but you know your room is
still open. Dad never turned it into an office like he said he
would.”

“I know. I just want to sleep with you,
unless that’s a problem.”

“Not a problem at all. Strange, but not a
problem.”

Time passed by quickly, and Mariam still
hadn’t told her friends about her move. She knew the closer she got
to the date, the harder it would be to tell them. She wanted to get
it over with, but she was scared. How would they react? What would
they do without her? What would she do without them? Even though
she was the designated mother of the group, they did as much for
her as she did for them. In different ways, they all helped each
other out, either with advice, a shoulder to cry on, or just
someone to talk to. She never thought she’d see the day when she
moved away from her girls.

Mariam opened her curtains to let the sun in.
She was a morning person. She loved getting up to go jogging early,
before the sun got too hot and the streets got too busy. She
checked the time. It was almost 8 o’clock. She jumped in the shower
and got dressed. She was meeting Rashad for breakfast. Over the
past few weeks, they had both been busy and hadn’t spent much time
together, so she was really looking forward to having breakfast
with him. As she stood in front of her closet, looking for
something to wear, she heard her phone ring. It was a text message
from Rashad:
Can’t make breakfast, honey. Working the morning
shift. Call you around 1 o’clock.

“Since when has he ever worked the morning
shift?” she asked herself as she flopped on the bed. Even though
Rashad sounded excited about the move, he had been acting weird
ever since she told him. Maybe he didn’t want to go. Maybe he just
said he did to be nice. Maybe he didn’t want to get married, or
maybe he just didn’t want to marry her. Mariam’s mind was racing
with thoughts about Rashad and his recent behavior. She could feel
herself starting to get a headache, so she tried to think about
something else.

She didn’t need Rashad to go to breakfast,
and she was still hungry. She got dressed and went ahead with her
plans. Mariam was so used to going to Starr that she was halfway
there before she even realized where she was going. She made the
first U-turn she could. She didn’t want to see him. Once she was
driving in the opposite direction, she didn’t know where she was
going. She drove slowly, looking for a place that looked
interesting. She remembered passing a small Italian restaurant she
had always wanted to try. She thought the purple awning and yellow
flowers out front looked pretty and inviting.