CHAPTER SEVEN

Ali stared at the paper in his hand.
Fatima was speechless. She couldn’t even think of what to say. She just prayed he would have some explanation to make this all go away.
“What is this?” Ali looked up.
“Can’t you see what it is?” Fatima pressed her temples with her finger tips.
“This was in my drawer?” Ali asked.
“This is the letter that came on Friday. The one you took and obviously put in your drawer.” Fatima could not believe he was going to act like he didn’t know what he was looking at.
“I never saw this.” He said shaking his head.
“Ok, so it walked to your drawer.” Fatima’s level of frustration was growing.
“No, I mean I took the mail to our room to read it and then the girls woke up so I just put all the mail in the drawer. I never actually read anything.”
“It’s open Ali.” Fatima linked her fingers behind her head and leaned back into her chair.
“Where is the envelope?” he asked.
Fatima showed him the envelope on her desk. “It’s right here.”
Ali took it from Fatima. “I would open mail like this? Obviously the kids opened it. Fatima, this is the first time I’m seeing this, really.”
“Ok whatever, that’s beside the point.” Fatima fanned her hand in the air. “What’s this about a paternity suit?”
“I have no idea what this is about.” Ali looked at the letter again. “I can’t believe this.”
“That’s not exactly what I need to hear right now.”
“Fatima this is not even possible. This is crazy. You have to know that. It’s obviously a mistake.”
Fatima inhaled and exhaled heavily. She got up and started to pace the floor. She passed the sun shaped mirror on the wall above the fire place. She could see Ali’s reflection in it. He looked distressed as she would expect, but he wasn’t saying anything that was helping her at this moment.
“Fatima, come on sit down. Please don’t be upset by this. You don’t think for one second that this could be true?” Ali asked.
“Oh well I don’t know, lawyers offices don’t usually send out mail notifying law suits that have no validity. This is a reputable law firm. They’re not going to risk their reputation on some nut case. They have to do interviews and see evidence. They need to do some investigation before they take on a case like this. You’re not some Joe Blow. You are a well known athlete; with money. They’re not going to take a chance like this, Ali.”
“I know. I know.” Ali’s voice was almost a whisper.
“So what are you saying?” Fatima asked him. “This is some crazy woman who forgot who her child’s father is and just woke up and decided it should be you?” Fatima was starting to feel light headed.
“Of course not.” His voice was gentle. “Fatima, I hate what this is doing to you. You should calm down. Let me get you some water.”
“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine. I don’t need water. I just need some answers right now.”
“I wish I had answers for you. I don’t understand this at all. I have no clue what’s behind this. I’ll call Shawn in the morning and deal with this.”
Shawn was Ali’s childhood friend. He was a diligent and focussed young lawyer who had quickly worked his way up to one of the top law firms in Toronto. Many firms had been vying for him and he had decided to work for a small but busy firm just outside of the downtown area.
“You will deal with this. Oh so easy.” Fatima sat back in her chair.
“Fatima, I don’t know who this woman is, and even if I did her child can’t be mine.” He pointed towards the door leading to the basement. “I have three children and they’re all downstairs.” Ali stated in a voice so calm Fatima wondered if they were really discussing the same subject.
“Think Ali, think.”
Ali's face dropped. “About what? There is only you. No one else. Not before you and not after you. Fatima, I don’t have to think about that.” Fatima knew she should believe him, but with this letter in front of her how could she?
“Why not call Shawn now?” Fatima looked at Ali hopefully. She needed some answers.
“It’s Sunday and he’s gone to a wedding.” Ali reached out to touch Fatima’s arm in a reassuring gesture. She pulled away.
“He has a cell phone.”
“Fatima, I understand how you feel,” Ali moved closer to her, “but he can’t do anything about it today. Really, I’ll talk to him in the morning.”
“Well, I’m happy you’re taking it so lightly.” Fatima stepped around him and sat on the steps leading to the upper level.
“I’m not taking it lightly. You think I’m taking this lightly? I have a family. My wife is pregnant and we get this.” Ali shook the letter in his hand. “I see this as a threat to my family. Trust me I’m not taking this lightly, but I don’t know anything more than what is on this paper.” He looked at Fatima and added “and that I don’t have any kids except ours.”
“Why do you think someone would do something like this?” Fatima asked.
Ali sat down on the chair that Fatima had left vacant and leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees, “I don’t want to speculate. I don’t know what to think. I’ll speak to Shawn tomorrow and see where we go from here.”
“So you didn’t know about this letter, but the law office just happens to be in Ottawa and that is where you happened to go the other night and couldn’t tell me? Do you think it’s reasonable for me not to draw a connection?”
“My trip had nothing to do with this.”
“Oh that’s wonderful!” Fatima threw her hands up in the air. “More surprises. Do you realize how this is looking to me?”
“Of course I do, but Fatima there is no way this can be true. I have never heard this woman’s name before today. I don’t know her, or any other woman for that matter and I’m going to get to the bottom of it starting tomorrow. I promise you.”
Fatima held her head up. “It’s a boy.”
“What?” Ali jerked his head.
“The child in question is a boy. Look at the letter.” Fatima pointed at the paper in Ali’s hand.
“It has nothing to do with me,” Ali said ignoring the letter and keeping his attention on Fatima.
“Well, apparently it does because the letter is addressed to you,” she snapped.
“It’s not my boy, Fatima.” Ali stood and moved toward her, but Fatima held him at arm’s length. He continued speaking. “Listen I get it ok, it’s disturbing news. It’s enough to jack up anybody, never mind when you’re pregnant.”
Fatima refused to answer him. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted him to say, but she knew what he was offering was not enough.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I know how hard it is for you to be married to me. I do. I’m on the road constantly while you’re alone at home with the girls. Or you have to rearrange your life to travel with me. I know it’s not easy. It’s hard for me too. Now you’re pregnant. I think about it all the time. Honestly, if I could give you something more, you know I would. This is as shocking to me as it is to you.”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell at all?”
“No Fatima,” he insisted. Ali sat down again and turned his attention back to the letter.
“Swear to me.”
As soon as the words left her mouth she realized the impact that they would have. Swearing was a very serious thing and strongly disapproved of in Islam. In addition to that, the suggestion that she didn’t believe him would be very serious to him. Ali squinted and knit his brow as he absorbed the meaning of her words. “Fatima-” he started.
“Forget it,” Fatima interrupted him, flashing her hand in his direction.
“You know what,” Ali exhaled and rose to his feet. “I’m going to call Shawn. At least I can leave a message.”
“Thank you, Ali.” Fatima finally felt some relief. At least he was taking some action.

Ali disappeared to the upper levels of the house. She knew he was offended at the suggestion that she didn’t believe what he had said. One thing that Ali took very seriously was any suggestion that he may be lying. If he said it was so, he expected you to take him at his word. He always gave people the benefit of the doubt until he knew different. She was sounding like she doubted him and she knew that was a serious thing to him.
What did he expect? There were definitely some missing pieces here. After all, this was all being dumped in her lap. She didn’t go looking for it. She had exams in two weeks and all this was now on her head. She felt her baby moving as her body started to relax and her breathing returned to normal. What affect was all this having on her child? She was seriously stressed out. She knew she should trust him, but she could not get rid of that nagging feeling that something bad, very bad was going to happen.
Really, how could someone think of accusing the wrong person of fathering their child? DNA would prove them to be a liar, so what could be gained by filing a false claim? There was still the matter of Ottawa; if it wasn’t about this case then what was it about? What was so urgent and secret?
True, Ali had never given her any reason to doubt him at all. He was always sincere, almost transparent. That’s why she had married him. She had always felt so secure with him. It was something she had lacked growing up. She remembered her childhood and Ali as a boy. He never lied, even when he knew it meant he would be in trouble.
From their first meeting Fatima had spent most of her free time in the Abati household. She didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Rachel was like a sister to her. Rachel had had an older brother and sister, but they never paid much attention to the two girls. Fatima’s mom Dana was working all the time and her father who had separated from Dana when Fatima was small was not very involved in Fatima’s life.
Fatima was left on her own a lot. The Abati home had had a sense of comfort in it. She had not realized then but the family had been through the worst experience possible yet they were still warm and loving, happy and always giving to others.
When they had moved in they had introduced themselves to all the neighbours and had become the parents of all the neighbourhood children. Their door was usually unlocked during the day; people were always in and out of their home.
Ali had been a quiet child. He was a good student but had put most of his spare time and energy into sports. Fatima later realized that it had been an outlet for him. He held a lot of pain inside and it was a way for him to release it. He had lost his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, neighbours and friends. Fatima shuddered at the thought.
What if her girls had lost Mama and Papa, Rahma, Naomi, Rachel, Joshua and Jonah in one sweep? How would they function? How could they ever be happy again? Could they have any joy in life? How could they ever love or trust again?
Fortunately, Mama and Papa had been strong. They had built a life that was stable and full of love for Ali. Routine was an important part of their life. Mama was a smart woman and she had insisted that it was what he needed to feel secure. He had had all security ripped away from him and she had worked very hard to recreate that feeling in his life. So he had healed.
Or so Fatima had thought, but sometimes she could see the old pain. Sometimes he would sit for long periods of time and just stare. She never asked him what he was thinking about. She was afraid to know. She wanted to be supportive, but she just couldn’t bear to hear about the horrors that she imagined he had been through. She felt guilty about it sometimes, like perhaps she was letting him down by not being there for him completely.
Still he was always pleasant, positive, warm and kind to everyone. He had once told her that focussing on others helped him to feel alive. It blocked the pain and gave him an excuse not to think about himself. He had been a man even then, and was deeply affected by the fact that he could not stop what had happened to his family in Rwanda. He had vowed that he would never allow something like that to happen again.
At school he had not taken many close friends; he was friendly with everyone but when he left school he preferred to be alone. His classmates always wanted to play with him and the boys frequently wanted to fight with him. They loved to test their strength. Ali would usually refuse, but if he had to he could definitely hold his own.
He had focussed much of his energy on martial arts and had become a four time champion in mixed martial arts. One of his favourite past-times was archery and when he was stressed out he usually spent time in that sport. He had introduced Shawn to it as well so he would have someone to compete with when the mood took him, but he usually went alone.
Yes, he had been an all-round athlete and the passion and drive that he put into sports really moved Fatima. In his daily life he was calm, controlled, pensive, but when he was on the court, in the pool or on any kind of field he changed. Another person emerged. He was aggressive and intense. It made Fatima wonder about the emotions that he kept inside.
Well, Fatima thought, it was good that he released his emotions somehow. His parents had tried to get counselling for him, but he had refused to talk to any counsellor, at all. He said he didn’t need it. But he used to talk to Fatima and Rachel, never about the past but about his future, all his plans. He talked about how he was going to take care of his parents and his family when he had one. Fatima had wanted to take care of him even then. He had seemed so sad to her. Taking care of his family had been so important to him. He wanted to make up for what he had lost.
He had been serious and disciplined from that time. His parents had given him a lot of freedom because they trusted him. Indeed he was always where he said he was going to be and doing what he said he was going to be doing. He was never one to hang out. He took care of his business and went home. If his parents had said no to him concerning something he wanted, he accepted it. During his teenage years when most kids were going through internal and external turmoil he just played harder. He poured all his excess energy into sports.
Papa had often taken Rachel and Fatima to his events and the two girls became influenced by his activities. They had wanted to be athletes too. Rachel had taken up swimming and had been on a swim team throughout high school. Fatima had loved running and martial arts. Most of her training had come from Ali. He had started teaching when he was 16.
He had insisted that she pursue at least one form and she had received a black belt in tae kwon do by the age of 18. Ali was not satisfied. He wanted her to be proficient in a variety of forms and he continued to train her. He allowed her three months rest after she had her babies, then it was back to work. He had already started training his daughters. It was very important to him that they had the confidence to stand up for themselves when necessary. He knew he wasn’t going to be there always to protect them and the thought seemed to disturb him sometimes.

Fatima walked to the French doors that faced the backyard. They were framed by matching window panes. She stepped into the bay and looked out at the two fountains and the birds that always danced in the water. She remembered the day her mother had told her that Ali wanted to marry her. He had told his parents of his intentions and they had spoken to her mother. Dana definitely thought Fatima was too young. Ali’s father had convinced Dana that they were good kids and that if Ali could prove that he was responsible then he would give his blessings. They would support the young couple and Papa believed they would be fine. “It’s better to be with one than many,” he had said.
It had not been hard for Fatima’s mom to accept Ali, she had loved him already. He was so different from the other boys. Because he was two years older than Rachel and Fatima she had always felt the girls were very safe when they were with him.
In the end when Dana had seen the path that Rachel had taken and what had happened to her and Jamie she realized that early marriage and family was not the worst that could happen to a girl. Rachel’s children had been born close to Fatima’s. Joshua was just three months younger than Masuma and Jonah had followed soon after.
Ali had prepared well for his marriage with Fatima. When he had the chance to play professionally it was an opportunity he couldn’t refuse. The freedom and income it would give him would enable him to do all the things he had dreamed of.
He had adjusted well to playing professional basketball and he and his father had bonded in the year that they had travelled together. Papa said he was truly proud of the way Ali had handled himself. His prayers were always on time. It was in his contract that he be given time to pray wherever he was. He never played on the days of Eid or on the 10th of Muharram. The other players had grown to love him too and respect his commitment to his values.
They often congregated in Ali’s room after games if they wanted to get away from the pressures of the road. They knew it was a place where they could find peace and be free to be themselves. They had enjoyed hanging out with Papa and Ali. Papa had said many of them had not had fathers themselves and had appreciated his presence and guidance. Nowadays many of the players, even the ones much older than Ali confided in him and sought advice from him.
Ali had saved most of his money and bought the house across the street so they could remain close to their families. Since Fatima’s mother was an archaeologist, and often travelling, her house remained empty most of the time. Being across the street enabled Ali and Fatima to watch over it.
Naturally Ali could have bought a much bigger and more luxurious house, but securing his future and the future of his family was far more important than enjoying the pleasures of today. He had a comfortable home, they had good cars and nice things, but he was always very careful about the way he spent his money. They had a property about one hour out of town. He and Fatima were looking forward to enjoying it as a getaway when the construction on their home was finished.
The only weakness he had was when it came to his wife. He made sure she had whatever she wanted. Fortunately for him she thought the same way that he did and was focussed on building their future. He always joked that if she had been a more demanding woman he would have been in the poor house.
The first year of their marriage had been pure fun. They had enjoyed travelling together. While most of Fatima’s friends were in university or working, she was travelling across North America with Ali. While her friends were trying to juggle jobs and school and explore new and sometimes dangerous freedoms, she was settled in her beautiful home with her doting husband.
The other players were initially disappointed to hear that Papa was no longer going to be a regular and they wondered how their night-time sessions would be affected now that Ali’s wife was going to be with him. Many of them were not used to being around a woman in hijab and did not know what to expect.
Fatima had immediately put them at ease and had encouraged them to continue to crash with them. Ali always had a room with a separate bedroom so she could have her privacy. The rule was that they could come over anytime. They should call first but if they couldn’t they were welcome to just knock on the door. Fatima saw firsthand the trials of the profession and she wanted them to have a safe place if they needed to get away from it all.
It was really something to see those big tough guys crash on Fatima’s hotel room floor and talk about their deepest feelings fears and wishes. Sure there was a lot of joking and rough housing too, bragging and game commentaries included, but there were many moments of open sharing. Especially when there was only one or two team mates present at a time.
Many of the wives had come to know Fatima as well. On occasion a wife had called her to inquire about her own husband’s conduct. Fatima never revealed anything. She had a standard answer prepared. She always told them that she understood the pressures of the road and she made it a rule not to mind anyone’s business but her own. The players loved her even more for that.
When she had Masuma and couldn’t travel as much they all vowed to keep Ali in line for her. They sometimes even called her to see if she was ok. It was funny the way they treated Ali. They were sometimes just as aware of his duties as he was himself. They reminded him to pray and they always let him know that they had their eye on him.
Because of the stories that Mama had heard about life on the road, she had formed a network with the mothers of some other ball players called Moms Away. It was a network of mothers in various cities. The players knew that if they needed a mom while they were on the road they had one. They could call and talk or get a home cooked meal, or just a safe place to stay. Naturally the Abati home was a favourite.

Now Fatima thought about Ali being upstairs and wondered what he was doing. He must have made the call already. She knew she had hurt him. The worst thing for a Muslim to be was a liar. The suggestion that he may not be telling the truth was like questioning his Deen-religion and that would have been unacceptable to him.
She went down stairs to check the girls. They had fallen asleep. “Oh, poor things.” Fatima’s heart was breaking. “They must have been traumatized,” she whispered. She pulled some blankets over them and climbed the stairs to talk to Ali. She found him in the study in front of the computer.
She walked behind him so she could see the screen. He was looking at a course calendar. He usually took University courses during the summer, either in night school or online. He was pursuing a degree in Leisure and Recreation. Fatima was surprised to see him looking at the calendar now because he had said he wasn’t going to take any courses this year. “I thought you weren’t going to study this summer,” she said.
“I reconsidered,” Ali answered without turning around.
“Ali.”
“Fatima,” he replied, while keeping his eyes on the screen.
“It’s never hard for me to be your wife. You’re the most important thing in my life. You are my life. I just get scared sometimes.”
Ali turned around and pulled another chair close to him. He motioned for her to sit. She sat in the chair and waited for his response.
“I can understand that.” He reached for a stool for her to rest her feet on, and continued, “What are you afraid of?”
“Just losing everything.”
“How would that happen?” He leaned forward waiting for her to speak.
“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll grow apart. Maybe one day this baller lifestyle will just transform you and we’ll end up like all the other players and their wives.”
Ali nodded and Fatima could see that he was thinking. He leaned back in his chair.
“What do you think I do when I’m away from home?” he asked.
Fatima shrugged her shoulders. “Play ball?”
“And?” Ali prompted.
Fatima shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“I think. I think about my life, my responsibilities and my girls; all of my girls. I think about you, our babies, my mom, Rahma. My father is not going to be here forever and then it will all be on me. I have to make sure that everyone has what they need, is safe and happy. That’s what I think about, how I’m going to do that, how I’m going to make that happen. Do you really believe I have time to mess with my life, my family, my future?”
“That’s not fair Ali. Don’t flip this on me.” Fatima resented the direction she felt him going in. Now he was making it seem like she was in the wrong. “How do you expect me to react under these circumstances?”
Ali rubbed his face as he watched his wife. “I’m going to be going on the road again in a few days. How can I feel comfortable to do that if you doubt me?”
“I don’t... I’m not... I didn’t... I’m not sure what to think right now.” Fatima was starting to feel drained.
Ali let out a short laugh and stood up. “Do you know how that makes me feel? All of this is for you. My work, the money, the sacrifice, everything is for you. If you’re at home and stressed out about me then it’s not worth it. I had no idea you felt this way. I thought we had an understanding. I thought everything was ok. Now I find out that an accusation from someone we don’t even know can tear it all apart? I must really be doing something wrong.”
“So what now?” Fatima asked.
“Well, I guess that’s on me. I left a message for Shawn to call me immediately and I’m going to move on this letter tomorrow, but it’s not just about the letter. It’s deeper than that. Next time it will be something else. How we handle the next challenge is going to depend on the foundation we have as a couple. That’s what I’m concerned about.”
“Ok. So what are you saying?” Fatima stroked the arms of her chair.
“I’m saying I got a wakeup call today. I realize I just can’t take anything for granted.” He walked around the room.
“I just thought your reaction was kind of strange. You seemed so calm.” Fatima said, following him with her eyes.
“Yes, I’m calm. You know why? Because it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. These issues, these challenges, they come and go. I can handle whatever comes at me. It only matters to me if it affects you. Otherwise I’ll just deal with whatever happens. That’s life.”
Fatima didn’t answer. Hearing him put things like that; she didn’t know what to say.
“Let me ask you this.” Ali sat in his chair again and pulled it forward. “Take this situation for example. What’s the worst thing that can happen? For you what would be the worst thing?”
Fatima thought about it before replying, “Well, if it was true I guess.”
“And so what? So what if it was true, what’s going to happen? Are you going to die? You think Allah can’t get you through it?” Ali asked her.
“What are you saying?” If he was trying to make her feel better, he was taking the wrong approach.
“I’m showing you how I keep things in perspective. If you realize that your worst fear is nothing then you can release the fear. Even if the worst happens, you’ll get through it. Allah wants what’s good for you. Not just good, actually, best. You have to trust Him, Fatima. You don’t need to work everything out for yourself. I don’t even try. I just put it in Allah’s hands and leave it there.”
She felt ashamed. She knew what he was saying was true, and compared to what he had been through in his life, this really was nothing. Why should he freak out?
Ali continued, “The situation is only as bad as you make it.”
“What would be the worst thing for you? In this situation,” Fatima asked him.
“The worst thing would be if it upsets you and if it hurts our marriage.”
“Would you die?” Fatima was teasing him now, but she was still eager to hear his answer.
He gave a half smile. “A part of me would die, yes. But I would take whatever I could learn from it and use it to improve. Part of self-building is being the master of your emotions.”
Fatima remained silent. Ali certainly was getting very good at mastering his emotions. She was having difficulty reading him right now. Was he trying to tell her that she didn’t have anything to worry about or was he saying that she might, but she should choose not to worry? She was not quite sure. She surely did not want to believe that she should worry but she still had that ominous feeling.
Fatima fixed her eyes on Ali. She needed to be able to see the slightest waver when she asked this question. “Do you know what I keep thinking about? That one time, I don’t know maybe it was more than one time, that you asked me to join you on the road and I didn’t go. I thought I couldn’t. I just wasn’t feeling well and I had exams. You just asked me out of the blue and I never asked you why.”
Ali held her gaze. “It was one time and I understood that. It was not a problem.”
“But I never asked you why.” Fatima couldn’t help wondering if she had made a mistake; made a mistake by not going with him, made a mistake by becoming comfortable with him travelling by himself. She remembered the first year that they travelled together. She knew exactly what the dangers were. I have three kids, how can I keep up with him? She sighed. Ali hadn’t wanted to start a family when she did. She had pushed for that.
Ali shook his head. “Why I wanted you to come? There is only one reason and it’s always the same. You’re my wife and I wanted you with me. That’s all. I just missed you. The same as always. There’s nothing else.” Ali held out his hands to emphasize his last statement.
Fatima sighed and stood up. She was well aware how much of ‘nothing’ happened on the road. “Ok Ali, I’m exhausted. I’m going to lie down.”
“What about the girls?” he asked as Fatima walked toward the door.
“They fell asleep in the basement; you can put them in bed if you want. I would just leave them though. I already covered them with a blanket.”
Fatima headed toward her bedroom. Looking over the railing, she caught site of the flowers in the foyer as she walked down the hall. She then turned back. “Ali, you know your mom has been really quiet these last few days.”
Ali turned away but Fatima could see him clench his jaw. “Well, it is April,” he said.
Fatima had forgotten. April was the anniversary of the start of the genocide in Rwanda. Every April Mama became very sombre. Her mood usually lasted for a few weeks. At that time she would pour all her energy into the garden. The summer would show the fruit of all her work. She had the most beautiful garden on the street. “Ali, I forgot, I am so sorry.” She started to walk back toward him, but he held up his hand.
“Don’t worry. Go rest,” he said.
Fatima turned and headed to her room. Before she closed the white double doors she looked towards the study. She could see that Ali had pulled away from the desk, his elbow on his knee. He was rubbing his forehead against the palm of his hand. Now the events of the day really did seem small indeed.

CHAPTER SIX

The next morning when Fatima woke up the sun was shining. She had woken up for Fajr-the first prayer of the day, prayed and gone back to sleep. She had no problem waking up early these days. When she was pregnant she found it very difficult to sleep in and she was usually up bright and early. She had spoken to Ali at that time. He had called from Ottawa at about 6 am.
He had tried to sound normal, but Fatima had thought he sounded preoccupied. She hadn’t asked him about his plans and he didn’t offer any information. He just made sure she was alright and reassured her that he would be back in the evening as he had promised. He wasn’t impressed that she had slept on the couch. “That can’t be comfortable.”
Nothing about this is comfortable, she had wanted to say, but instead she had just said that she had been so tired she really didn’t want to tackle the stairs and she had felt lonely.
“It’s not the same when you’re not here,” she confessed.
“You didn’t look for the notes,” Ali mentioned.
“How do you know?”
“Because I left instructions and if you had found them I would have known.”
Fatima really appreciated these rituals. They made her feel somewhat normal. Even though their life was hectic there were a few things she could always count on. Ali leaving her notes around the house when he travelled was one of them.
He was not a talkative person. She admired that about him. She was impressed with his degree of reserve. He was open with her, but with few words. She had learned to be more silent too as a result. She often had to figure out what he was thinking and feeling by paying attention to his actions as much as his words, what he said and what he didn’t. When he was in the company of others he was more of an observer than a talker.
Fatima detested men who had to be the centre of attention. Her opinion was that if you were talkative, eventually you would say something that you shouldn’t. The more you talked the more likely that was to happen. Ali was rarely in danger of that. When he spoke it was usually valuable otherwise he wouldn’t bother. So she really cherished these little messages that always seemed to be right from the heart. They gave her more insight to the man she shared her life with.
He was right about her not looking for the notes. She was tired yes, but she was upset too. She just didn’t feel like playing with him. She was confused about his behaviour. She had an active imagination and could not help trying to figure out possible reasons for his trip. It was frustrating not to have any good possibilities. Anyway it was daylight now and she would go get her daughters and start the day. It was Saturday and she had no real plan so she would just play it by ear.

When she arrived at number 110 the house seemed uncharacteristically quiet. She tried the door and it was open. It often was at this time of morning. It was April and Mama had a beautiful garden. After Fajr she often spent hours in the garden. The door would be unlocked because she would be coming in and out.
“As-salaam alaikum ya Rasoolullah,” Fatima said as she entered the house. Rahma was the first to greet her. She ran to Fatima, hugged and kissed her using her special name for Fatima, the Italian word for sister.
“As-salaam alaikum, Sorella. We were worried about you. I don’t think Papa slept all night. Come look.”
Fatima followed Rahma into the living room which the family used as a prayer room. There was nothing in it except wall to wall carpet, large cushions lining the walls, two tall book cases at one end of the room and a low table at the other end that held a stand for reading the Holy Quran. The room was painted in a beautiful earth tone and decorated with a few large plants.
“He fell asleep right after Fajr.”
Papa was lying on the floor with the three girls on top of him. Laila and Batool were on his chest and Masuma rested with a pillow on his leg.
“Figures Masuma would think to get comfortable. How were they last night?”
“Fine, they were all played out so they slept pretty well. They got up at Fajr, but I guess they were still tired because they conked out immediately after.” Rahma waved her hand at the sleeping girls.
Fatima stood in the foyer watching them. “I’m torn. Should I wake them or let them sleep?”
“Leave them, for sure. Come, let’s go to the back.”
They went to the back of the house where there was a large sunroom. It was warm and sunny for April and Mama was working in the backyard. The girls laughed and chatted for a while enjoying the fresh morning air. When she heard them Mama left her work and came to keep them company for a while.
“Did you speak to Ali this morning?” Mama removed her gloves and placed them on the chair beside her.
“I did.”
“Hmm. He snuck out of here without seeing me.”
Fatima could tell that she was not pleased, but she didn’t go on. Mama was so careful around Fatima now that she was pregnant. She always insisted that the happiness of a pregnant woman should be the top priority of the family. Every experience, emotion and thought that she had would have a physical manifestation and impact on the unborn child, Mama always said. It became a part of him or her. She always insisted that Fatima should be cared for and stress free during this time.
Rahma quickly changed the subject. “Mama, you should see Papa. He’s sleeping and the girls are all around him. It’s so cute. I should take a picture.”
Mama smiled. “You know I think he was in that room all night. He said he couldn’t sleep knowing you were alone. I had to pry his shoes off.”
“As-salaam alaikum, Piccolina.” Papa had called Fatima Piccolina, little doll, from the first time he had met her. He entered the sunroom and stood beside Fatima’s chair.
Wa alaikum as-salaam, Papa. I’m not so tiny any more. I think I grew overnight.”
“Yes, I see, but you are still a doll. Come sta lei, mio caro?-How are you my dear?”
“Alhamdulillah,I’m ok, thanks.”
“So, when is your husband coming back?” Mama asked.
“Mama, you know he said this evening,” Papa replied and gave her a scolding look.
“Well, I wanted to hear from his wife, since he didn’t bother to tell his mother anything.” Mama pursed her lips, showing her discontent.
“Oh Mama, he didn’t want you to worry.” Papa hugged Mama and gave Fatima and Rahma a wink.
Fatima realized in that moment how much Ali was like his father and she was grateful that he had such a good role model.
“He’s a grown man. He’ll be just fine.” Papa added.
Mama sat at the wrought iron table. “It’s not nice to leave Fatima like this. She’s due any minute. He spends enough time away as it is.” Fatima could see the wheels in Mama’s head turning. She wasn’t saying much, but Fatima knew she was running through all the possibilities, just as she had. The thought made her uncomfortable.
Papa insisted, “We’re all here. She has everything she needs.”
“Except her husband.”
“What are you all doing today?” Fatima wanted to talk about anything but Ali’s absence.
Papa rubbed his greying head and sighed. “I have a lot of work to do.”
Papa worked for a non-profit organization called Children of Rwanda. It was based in his homeland, Italy, but he was able to do much of his work by internet and on the phone. During the massacre many Rwandan children had been air lifted to Italy and placed in homes with Italian families.
Many had been adopted and in the years after the massacre the Italian and Rwandan governments had ongoing negotiations about the status of the children. Rwanda said the adoptions were illegal. The Italian families had no permission from family members or the government to adopt the children. Italy had insisted that the adoptions were in order.
Unfortunately many of the children had no family to return to. Some of them did have families that had demanded their children back. Having left as babies many of the children knew only the Italian families as their own. It had been a very sensitive situation.
In the years since the genocide many children had been returned and many had remained in their adopted families after returning to Rwanda to perform the adoptions satisfactorily. Still there were ongoing issues, such as maintaining cultural identity, keeping in contact with living family members, trips home and dealing with the integration of the Rwandan children into Italian society.
Hundreds of thousands of children had been orphaned following the 1994 genocide, according to statistics from the Ministry of Gender in Rwanda. The number of children in Rwanda who had been orphaned or were otherwise considered vulnerable was anywhere from one to three million. Papa was currently working on an assessment to determine the number of children living on the streets and their needs.
Papa had been active in the cause from the beginning and continued to build a large organization that also offered sponsorship and support to children in Rwanda and their families.

“You know what I have to say about that.” Mama’s eyes sparkled.
“Yes Mama.” They all repeated Mama’s famous line, “If they want African babies let them make their own.”
“Not everyone is as lucky as me,” Papa was always quick to reply.
He was lucky indeed. Italy had one of the lowest birth rates in the world, with two children and a fourth grandchild on the way, Papa was rich beyond imagination.

Fatima spent the day with the family, talking to Rahma and watching her daughters play in the yard. She even helped Mama with some of the gardening, as much as she was allowed.
It was still early to start planting, but Mama would get the soil ready and spend time in her greenhouse where she had seedlings waiting to be transplanted when the fear of frost was gone.
Fatima couldn’t think of going back home right now. The day flew by quickly and when Papa emerged from his study Fatima couldn’t believe that it was already 4 pm. Ali would be home soon.
“Mama, maybe I should go home now and wait for Ali.”
“Why not eat with us, and then go? It’s only another hour. Go and have a nap. I’ll wake you when he gets here.”
“Are you sure? The girls are pretty wound up. I don’t want to leave all that work on you.”
“Papa is free now. You know him. He’s at their service. Go, they won’t even miss you.” Mama was right. Fatima looked out the window to the back yard. Papa was already there chasing the girls around. They were squealing as they ran around the back yard. Papa still walked with a slight limp from his injury during the genocide. He was not able to run too fast. The girls didn’t know the difference. They just knew that he was with them and he was all theirs.
Fatima went into the guest bedroom on the main floor behind the kitchen. This is where she usually slept when she stayed over. It was hard to get comfortable but she would try. Ali must have been in the room recently because his scent was on the bedding. She sank into the pillow and took comfort in knowing that when she woke up he would likely be home.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Fatima woke up to the sound of her daughters voices. Ali had arrived and they were thrilled. They had not seen him since yesterday afternoon. Fatima sometimes worried about the effect having their father absent so often, would have on them. During the regular season he was typically away from home for at least 100 days. It was a significant amount of time for the girls and for Fatima. Sometimes it put a heavy strain on family life.
Ali and Fatima had recently been discussing his possible departure from the league. Ali felt that he needed to spend more time with their daughters and if Fatima decided to pursue a degree in medicine the girls would definitely need one full time parent. He was thinking of developing a camp and recreation site on the land that they owned. Work was already being done on a home for their family.
Fatima came out of the bedroom. She stood and watched Ali interact with his family for a few seconds.
He had the same easy comfort with everyone wherever he was. It was as though he belonged everywhere. Ali stood beside his father. Papa was a tall man but Ali had grown past him by the time he was 17. He really did look like his father, a younger darker version of Papa. They both had strong lean features, a firm jaw, serious eyes and an easy smile.
The family were all so happy to see him. Rahma jumped and hugged him around his neck. Masuma and Batool hugged one leg each.
“Where’s Laila?” Ali asked.
“She ran to hide as soon as she heard you. I think she wants you to find her,” Rahma answered.
Ali bent over, peeled Batool and Masuma off his legs and removed his shoes. “Ok, well I better get on it before she falls asleep somewhere.”
“That certainly has happened before,” Fatima interjected.
Ali noticed her standing in the doorway of the guest room for the first time. “Fatima, as-salaam alaikum, how are you?” Ali greeted her.
“Wa alaikum as-salaam, I’m good. And you?” She replied. Why does this moment feel so awkward? Fatima wondered. She hated everything about the last 24 hours. Quickly she decided to put everything out of her mind and enjoy her evening. Worrying never helped in any case. Ali was home now, they were all together and whatever was happening outside would remain there at least for tonight.
“Great. Glad to be home. I think we should find Laila,” Ali said
Fatima laughed. “For sure, I’m right behind you.”
“You know I can’t wait for you.” He teased her about her slow movements. Ali always had a way of interjecting humour even in the most serious moments. It was good. It was good to have someone to lighten things up once in a while. They searched for Laila and found her in a doll house in the family room. Just like the others she was thrilled to see her father.
Laila and Batool the three year old twins, were replicas of their mother while Masuma looked like Ali. At five years old she took her role as elder sister very seriously. She often tried to be bossy, but the twins would not allow her to get the best of them. Laila always wanted to play and was often up to some mischief. Batool was very helpful. She needed to make sure everything was in order. She also loved to eat. She always headed straight for the kitchen when arriving at Mama’s house or anyone’s house for that matter.
Ali sat with Laila on the carpeted floor for a few minutes and played with her. Fatima looked around the family room. It was filled with books, toys and dozens of Ali’s trophies and medals. He had outstanding achievement in archery, judo, tae kwon do, mixed martial arts, swimming, track and field and of course basketball. Fatima had wanted to keep some of them at their home, but Ali had refused.
“Do you think she planned this, to get you alone, all to herself?” Fatima sat on an exercise ball.
Ali rolled over taking Laila with him. “Do I think? I’m sure.” He didn’t seem to mind. It really warmed Fatima’s heart to see him interact with their children. At moments like these she couldn’t help but think of Rachel. She didn’t have any of this. Her boys didn’t have this. Yes, they all loved Rachel and her family and were there for them, but it couldn’t be the same.
“How is Rachel doing?” Ali asked.
“What?” Fatima was surprised. He seemed to read her mind.
“Rachel. I’ve been thinking about her. She hasn’t been looking well,” Ali replied.
“You noticed?”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“Oh, well, you know woman stuff.” Fatima tried to make light of the situation.
“No I don’t.” Ali was not prepared to give up that easily.
“Well, she’ll be ok. She has me.”
Ali nodded. “You look tired. I should take you home,” he decided.
“No, your mom made dinner. We have to eat first, we can’t leave now. She waited for you.” Fatima stopped her movement on the ball.
“Yes, Ma’am, whatever you say.” Ali rose to his feet with Laila in his arms.
They made their way back to the kitchen. “You’re in trouble you know,” Fatima said.
“Me? Why?” Ali was truly surprised.
“Mama’s upset you didn’t tell her you were going.” Fatima watched closely for Ali’s reaction.
“She didn’t say anything to me.” Ali stopped in the hallway before reaching the kitchen.
“You know she wouldn’t in front of me.”
Ali looked pensive for a moment, and then smiled. “It’s ok. I’ll make it up. I know how to take care of her.”
“Daddy what did you bring?” Laila turned Ali’s face so he could only look directly at her.
“You’ll have to wait until you get home to find out.” He nipped her forearm and when she pulled it back he gave her a kiss on her neck.
“You had time to shop?” Fatima realized he had a very tight schedule and couldn’t imagine he would have time to do anything extra.
Ali looked down at her. “I made time.”
They arrived at the kitchen and Ali paused to allow Fatima to pass him and take her seat at the table. He placed Laila in her seat beside her grandfather and took his seat beside Fatima and his mother. They had a pleasant dinner. They laughed and talked about the girls, Rahma’s studies and her plans for the summer. They guessed about the exact birth date and weight of the baby, and they suggested possible names. No one mentioned Ali’s trip. When they finished dinner Ali and Fatima said goodnight and took their children home.

Ali had bought three dolls for his daughters. Each doll had one child’s name stitched on the front of its dress.
“I can’t believe you had time to do this. They’re beautiful.” Fatima was truly touched.
The girls danced around their parents’ room with their dolls. Fatima watched them and was so happy for their joy. She remembered how much she had wanted this kind of attention from her own father. It never came.
He had always wanted a son and Fatima had felt that if she had been a boy maybe he would have stayed. She had tried to show interest in the things her father loved, but he just didn’t think cars and sports were for girls. It was too bad, because she really was interested.
She had taken mechanics in high school and was one of the best in her class. She could fix just about anything in or outside of the house, although Ali never let her. Her dad just couldn’t see past the fact that she wasn’t a boy. Or so she thought.
He lived in British Columbia now and though they talked often enough, she was hurt that he never visited her after any of the girls were born. She was sure if she had had a boy he would have come.
“And for you,” Ali handed Fatima a gift bag. She recognized the scent immediately.
“Rose oil, thank you so much.” It was 500 ml of pure essential oil. “Ali, it’s too much. It must have been so expensive,” Fatima insisted.
“Do you like it?” Ali asked.
“Of course, I love it. You know I do.” Rose was Fatima’s favourite scent and one that she usually kept in the house in some form, whether in the form of flowers, oil or spray.
“Then that’s all that matters.” Laila stayed close to him, weaving in and out of his legs, while he stroked her head.
“Open it Mommy, open it.” Fatima opened the bottle and the smell filled the room. She put one drop on a tissue and waved it in the air. The girls wanted some on them so Fatima opened her drawer and pulled out a bottle of almond oil. She put a few drops in her palm. She took one drop of the rose oil and mixed them together. She touched the mixture, rubbed her fingers together and touched each girl behind each of their ears.
Ali watched from the doorway. “Ok, the party’s over little ones. It’s time for bed.”
“Daddy can we have a bedtime story?”
“Go pick one. I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned back to Fatima. “I’ll be just a few minutes.”
“Take your time.”
“Can you read The Night Prayers?” Fatima could hear the girls asking. It was their favourite story and they asked for it almost every night.
“Sure. In bed you go.” Ali followed them into their room.
Fatima prepared herself for bed. She showered and mixed some more of the rose oil in a small bottle she kept in her drawer. It was so soothing for her stretched skin and the smell was incredible. She felt elated instantly.
She adjusted her pillow and when she slipped her hand underneath she felt a small piece of paper. She knew it was one of the notes Ali had left for her yesterday. She was ready to read it now. She pulled out the paper. Call me it read. She suddenly felt sad thinking of Ali waiting for her call that never came.
“They fell asleep before I even finished.” Ali had returned to their room.
“Lucky you. They wear me out with their stories,” Fatima said.
“Hey, look what I got for Josh and Jonah.” Ali pulled out two identical soccer balls.
“Uh, how many kids do you have again?” Fatima was smiling. She was pleased that he loved Rachel’s boys. They really needed him.
“Believe me sometimes I wonder myself,” he replied with a smile.
“Do you wish they were basketballs instead?” Fatima inquired.
“Well, they’re still a little short for that game. I figure I’ll warm them up and switch them over later.” Fatima knew he was joking.
She couldn’t help but notice how Ali beamed when he talked about Joshua and Jonah and their sports activities. She knew she shouldn’t but she had to ask. “Do you ever wish you had a boy?”
“What do you mean, instead of the girls?” Ali sat down on the edge of their bed.
“Yes.” Fatima really wondered how he would answer.
“What are you talking about? Of course not. Where is this coming from?” Ali wrinkled his brow.
“I don’t know. You’re so into Joshua and Jonah, I just wondered if you ever thought about it.”
“Well, I guess most men would like to have a son and the first time sure I thought about it. Not since then. It’s such a gift to have these children, any children, am I going to quibble about boy or girl? It really doesn’t matter to me, anymore. Allah gives us what is best. He is All-Knowing, All-Wise. Who am I to suggest that He is wrong? How rude could I be?” Ali suddenly became sombre. “You know what my family has been through. Just to have healthy, happy, safe kids means more to me than anything else.”
“Are you sure?” Fatima could not get her father out of her mind.
“Fatima, I would not trade one of my daughters for a thousand sons, I promise you.”
“Not even Laila? You know how she can be.” She hoped Ali would say something to lighten the mood and make her feel better.
Ali chuckled at the mention of his mischievous little daughter. “Especially not Laila.”
“Well, what if this baby is a boy?” Fatima raised herself on her elbow.
“What if it is?” Ali crossed his arms.
“Will you be happy?” Fatima asked.
“Would you want it any other way?”
“Well, would you be especially happy.” Fatima pressed for an answer.
“Yes, to have yet another child, healthy and perfect, Inshallah, I would be especially happy.” He was teasing her now and she was feeling annoyed. It was really a serious topic for her. She knew she shouldn’t care but sometimes emotion took over rationale.
“You know what I mean, happy because it’s a boy.”
Ali paused for a few seconds and kept his cool gaze on his wife. Fatima started to wonder what he was thinking.
“I’m not your father,” he finally said.
Fatima was caught off guard. Was she that transparent? She did not know how to reply. She knew that Ali was a different man from the one she had grown up with, but sometimes the doubts just overpowered her sense of reason. It was so difficult to keep her focus on what was real instead of the pain of her past.
Flustered she stumbled over her answer. “I know that. I do. I was just thinking.”
“Well, stop doing that ok? I love our family. I love Laila, I love Batool, I love Masuma; I don’t need anything else except a healthy baby.” He paused and looked at Fatima chewing her lip, “And a happy wife. Ok?”
“Ok.”
“You’re stuck with me,” he added gently.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“I am never leaving you or those girls. No matter what.”
Fatima turned her attention back to the piece of paper that was in her hand. “Did you check the doors?” she asked Ali.
“I’ll do it right now.”
When Ali left the room she opened the paper again. “Call me,” she read out loud. She reached for the phone beside her bed and dialled Ali’s cell phone.
“Is that my phone ringing?” Ali re-entered their bedroom.
“It is.” Fatima hid the house phone and pretended to be settling in to sleep.
“Who could be calling me now?” Ali asked as he reached for his phone. He checked the caller ID before answering. He almost laughed out loud. He pressed ‘answer’ and in his most professional voice said, “Ali Abati. May I help you?”

Across the street Rachel looked out of her window. She spent many nights like this. Indeed all night sometimes. She would sit and remember the last time she had been looking out for her father. When she was small she would come to this room because it gave her the best view of the street. She could see when he was approaching before anyone else in the house; until the last time, when he didn’t come back. Sometimes she sat here wishing she could turn back the time. Sometimes she believed if she thought about it hard enough it would happen; she would see him driving down the street and realize that this had all been a bad dream.
When the lights went out in Fatima’s house she shook her head in amusement. “He is so predictable.” Ali always went to bed at the same time. Routine was important to him. He didn’t make a big deal about it; it just was his way, naturally. He usually got up at the same time too, and often once during the night.
Although she was across the street, many nights that routine gave her a strange sense of comfort and security. She knew when the lights would go out and she knew when they would go on. Ali never turned on the bedroom light during the night or early morning, but he may turn on the hall way light or a lamp on the main floor. Rachel felt like as long as everything was ok in Fatima’s house, then she was ok too. She sat in her chair next to the window. She thought about her life and her father. She clearly remembered the last day he was home.
It had been her tenth birthday and a small group of friends and family had gathered at her house. They had been waiting for her father to return from work. They had decorations and cake and Naomi had made all Rachel’s favourite foods. They waited and waited. Late at night after most guests had left, Papa started calling around to see if they could locate him. Finally the police had called to say he had been in an accident. Rachel never saw him again. They wouldn’t allow her to see him at the hospital and they had had a closed casket. Naomi had put away all his pictures and Rachel sometimes had a hard time remembering what he looked like. He was fading in her mind. His voice and his laugh, everything was fading. It scared her to death to think about losing him again.
“Mommy.” Jonah was at her bedroom door. He was almost the same height as Joshua who was a little small for his age.
“What is it honey?” Rachel turned to face her son. Jonah came and sat on his mother’s lap.
“I don’t like it when you go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere, honey.”
“When you go away I have bad dreams,” Jonah insisted.
“It’s ok honey, I’m here. What kind of bad dreams?” Rachel asked.
“Bad men come.”
“I’m so sorry, honey. You’re ok. Mommy’s here now.” Jonah often had bad dreams. He spent many nights in bed with Rachel. He was very sensitive and worried a lot. Whenever Jamie came around the dreams were worse. She rocked him back and forth in the rocking chair Jamie had bought her when she was pregnant with Joshua. She had wanted a rocking chair so badly. One day he had just surprised her with it. She had rocked her children here and Fatima’s too.
“You don’t know Mommy; there are bad men out there. Don’t leave me. They come when you leave me.”
“I won’t leave you. I’m right here. I love you Jonah.”
Jonah fell asleep and Rachel continued to rock him through the night. When she saw the light on Fatima’s main floor she knew it was 4 am. She put Jonah in her bed and kissed him good-night. “I won’t ever leave you, as long as I live.”
She returned to her rocking chair and pulled out her list.

Sundays were usually an easy day at Fatima’s house. They tried not to go anywhere or have any special plans. It was just a day for the family to relax and enjoy each other. The girls did whatever they wanted and that usually meant starting the day by jumping on whoever was still in bed.
This morning the bed was empty. Ali had gone for a run and Fatima was at her desk in the family room studying. The room was comfortable with soft earth tone walls and soft pink couches and armchairs. Cashmere pillows and throws helped to create a serene setting. Two large windows on either side of the fireplace were draped in fabric that matched the couches. Framed nature scenes hung on the walls. Fatima’s desk was neatly tucked in the corner to the right of the entrance. She often came to this room to relax. On winter nights she loved to unwind in front of the fireplace.
She didn’t usually study on Sundays, but she felt restless today and needed to do something to occupy her mind. Also if she put in a few hours early then she could relax the rest of the day. Usually when Ali returned from a trip the girls were interested in him exclusively for at least a few hours so she would take advantage of that time to do something for herself.
Her exams were starting in two weeks and she really had to push herself to study. At this stage in her pregnancy she could not care less about studying. She just wanted to prepare for her baby although there wasn’t much for her to do. They already had the major things and she would do most of the other shopping after the baby was born. She had help to clean and do laundry once a week and she really didn’t have to cook if she didn’t want to. That definitely made it a bit easier to study, but with three active little girls it was still chaotic most of the time.
Masuma came running down the steps into the lower level. “I’m telling on you!”
Laila screamed behind her, “It wasn’t me!”
“Yes, it was!” Batool was crying.
Fatima turned to face three very upset little girls. “What happened?”
All three girls were yelling and crying and Masuma waved a piece of paper in her hand that had red and green crayon scribbled all over it.
“Laila was drawing on Daddy’s paper.”
“Give it to me. Where did you get this? Fatima asked.
“In his drawer, but it was an accident!” Laila was hysterical now.
The girls knew that Ali usually kept treats for them in his bedside table.
“It’s a bit early for sweets don’t you think?” Fatima took the paper from Masuma’s hand and realized too late that it was the letter from the lawyer that had arrived on Friday. As she tried to process what she had read she suddenly felt her heart racing and her breath hard to catch. She stared at the paper so long that it no longer seemed real. When she heard Ali enter the house she told the girls to go to the basement and watch a movie.
“We want to see Daddy.” They all started jumping.
“Get in the basement!” Fatima yelled.
The girls froze. She had never yelled at them before.
She softened her voice. “Masuma, please take them,” Fatima pleaded. She was trembling now.
The girls quickly and quietly disappeared and Fatima sunk her face into her two hands. When she looked up Ali was in front of her. He wore a beige track suit with baby blue lines down the side of the arms and legs.
“What’s going on?” he asked in a soft but concerned voice.
Fatima could not get the words out. She held up the paper. “Masuma found this in your drawer.”
Ali slowly took the paper from her hand.
“So this is what’s going on?” Fatima asked. “Someone is filing a paternity suit against you?”

CHAPTER FIVE

“What are you talking about? He actually said that? Why would he want to hurt Ali?”
“You know their history. He’s so jealous of him. Jaime knows I never really loved him. He just can’t handle it. I guess it’s an ego thing. Now, with Ali playing such a big role in Joshua’s and Jonah’s lives, it just eats him.” Rachel’s eyes lit up. “You should see how excited they are when they talk about all the things that Ali does with them. It’s killing him. And of course Ali is successful in a way that he’s not.” Rachel was feeling very nervous telling Fatima all of this. The last thing she wanted was for Fatima and Ali to get involved in her problems. And whether Fatima wanted to see it or not Jamie was a big problem.
“It’s his choice not to be in their lives. What does he want? Them to have nothing? Just sit around waiting for him to show up whenever the wind blows him this way? That’s no life for those boys. He should be grateful someone is taking an interest in his kids and giving them some positive life experiences.” Fatima pushed her cold plate away.
“Maybe someone would be ok, but not Ali. Anyway he says he’s not around for the boys as much as he wants because he’s busy building their future.” Rachel knew how pathetic that sounded, but she really wanted Fatima to calm down and hopefully move onto another topic.
Fatima scoffed at Rachel’s comments. “Oh yes, building their future. They’ll know right where to find him when he’s finished, too, behind bars.”
Rachel was too embarrassed to even reply. She knew everything Fatima said was true and she wanted nothing more than to walk away from Jamie permanently, but he was so persistent. When he was away she was fine. She didn’t even think about him, but when he came around with his sad story, she just felt so weak. If she ever tried to resist him he would get explosive. She just couldn’t handle the outbursts.
Somehow she also feared making a mistake. What if he could change and be a good father to her boys. Did she have the right to give up on that? Didn’t her boys deserve a chance at having a family? Then there was always the fear that he would move on to someone else. Then she would look like the idiot, stuck with his kids while he went off and had a new family. She knew it made no sense but these were the issues she had to get over before she could truly move on in her life.
“Fine, they have this long standing rivalry, but what makes you think he really would do something to harm him?” Fatima pressed Rachel for more answers.
“I don’t remember his exact words, but I believed him.” Rachel twisted uncomfortably in her seat.
Fatima was silent as she processed everything she had just heard. “Rachel, did you make the list?”
Fatima was always talking about her prayer list. Mama had one and they had even gotten Naomi to start one. Fatima insisted that if Rachel made a list and prayed over it every day, she would be amazed at the miracles that would happen in her life.
“I promise you if you pray on that list, one by one you will be crossing things off and thanking God for hearing and answering your prayers.”
“Yah well maybe for you, but not me.” Rachel started to pick at her food again.
“Why not you? It works for me, and everyone else, but not you? You really think you’re that bad?” Fatima teased.
“Fatima, you know it’s just not my thing.” Rachel took a bite of her food.
“If that were true you wouldn’t be my friend.” Fatima smiled at Rachel with tenderness.
“Next topic.” Rachel cut Fatima off abruptly. This was one area she was not going to get into now. Praying was hard for her since her father had died. She had prayed so hard for him to recover from his accident and come back home. It hadn’t happened. Now they had to live a life without him. They had suffered so much since his death that Rachel just had a blockage when it came to prayer. She knew it worked for some people, but she just didn’t know how to make it work for herself.
“Ok, next topic.” Fatima reached across the table and held Rachel’s hands. “I am going to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth, no matter what it is, ok?” Fatima sounded so serious that Rachel felt uneasy.
“Ok.”
Fatima took a deep breath. “Your baby, was it Jamie’s?” Fatima kept her eyes on Rachel’s face.
Rachel heard the key in the door behind her and felt relief. She didn’t like the direction of this conversation. On the other side of the door Ali paused and when Fatima gave him the ok he entered the house.
“As-salaam alaikum.”
“Wa alaikum as-salaam,” Fatima replied without taking her eyes off Rachel.
“Hey Ali, how was the game?” Rachel was eager to hear about Joshua’s first day on the field. She was so grateful that Ali had stepped up and taken on the responsibility of her sons. At least she had made one good decision in her life, having him as a friend.
Ali bent to take off his shoes. “Incredible! I just dropped them home. They must be talking your mother’s ear off right now. They were so excited. Joshua is good! You should see him handle the ball. I think you have a little star on your hands.” Ali was beaming with obvious pride.
“Really? I should go see them.” Rachel tried to get up, but Fatima would not release the grip on her hands.
“I’ll see you later,” Ali said to Rachel. He turned and headed up the stairs.
“Ali,” Rachel called to him as he mounted the stairs.
“Yes Rachel.” Ali paused and looked back.
“Mom loves her kitchen. It’s amazing.”
He smiled. “I’m glad.” He turned and disappeared up the stairs.
Fatima pulled Rachel towards her across the table and whispered, “Answer me.”
“I shouldn’t even answer you,” Rachel replied in an angry whisper. “Of course he is. What kind of a person do you take me for?”
Fatima released her grip on Rachel. “Just forget it. I don’t really know what I’m saying.”
“I can’t even believe you could ask me something like that. What are you really suggesting? You know what? I don’t even want to know. I’m just going home.” Rachel got up. “My life is getting crazier by the minute.”
“Listen, forget it. I just, I don’t know, so many things have happened in the last two days that I just don’t feel like myself.” Fatima was starting to blush.
“Well, I guess you are entitled. You are hormonal.” Rachel was happy to drop the subject. She didn’t even want to imagine what was going through Fatima’s mind. “Just don’t go getting freaky weird on me.” Rachel’s voice was starting to soften.
“I’m sorry, I feel really stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Fatima was obviously embarrassed.
“Well, I have dumped a lot on you too. That wasn’t fair.” Rachel reached out and touched Fatima’s shoulder. “This was really bad timing. Look my boys are waiting for me and your husband is waiting for you, so I’m going home.”
“Okay,” Fatima nodded.
“You get some rest and take care of Mr. Abati’s baby.” Rachel allowed herself to smile again. “I don’t want him blaming me for stressing you out.”
“Good night Rachel, kiss the boys for me.”
“Bye.” Rachel touched Fatima’s cheek and left. Fatima closed the door behind her.

“What is happening to my life?” Rachel thought out loud, as she walked across the street to her house. She dreaded going there. Everything reminded her of her father. She felt guilty leaving her mother alone as much as she did, but nothing was the same without him. Naomi wasn’t even the same. Rachel really missed him now. If only he were here she would know what to do. She had always felt so safe with him. Now nothing was right and nowhere was safe. Rachel reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She had some things to add to her list.

Inside the house Fatima could still feel her cheeks burning. What had she been thinking asking Rachel such a question? She really needed to rest. Leaving the girls with Mama and Papa was starting to sound like a good idea.
She stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. Ali was likely packing a bag and getting ready to go catch his flight. Rachel had been a pleasant distraction, now back to her life. She looked up the stairs, but didn’t think she had the strength to climb them. It was getting harder for her these days. Sleeping on the couch was sounding good. She hated sleeping alone anyway. Ali appeared at the top of the stairs, with a bag over his shoulder. He wore blue jeans, a button-down shirt and a brown suede jacket.
“Do you need a hand?” He smile warmly at her, but she was not in the mood for his pleasantries.
“No, actually I was heading towards the couch.” Fatima turned and made her way to the family room and sat in the arm chair closest to the entrance. The pressure of the last two days coupled with Ali’s impending departure was too much for her. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Ali’s voice was coming from the doorway directly behind Fatima.
“And how do you know what I’m thinking?” Ali had now pulled up an ottoman and was sitting by her side. Fatima opened her eyes to meet his gaze.
“Because of these,” he curled his fingers and gently pressed them to the corner of her eye, “and these,” he repeated it on the other eye. When he pulled his hand away his fingers held the moisture from the tears Fatima was trying to hold back.
“You know how I am when I’m pregnant. I’m just a little emotional.” She was embarrassed. He could always read her so well.
“I know. That’s why I don’t want you to worry about anything.”
Fatima stared straight ahead and through the back window. “I hate to think that we have secrets between us. If there’s some kind of problem I should know.”
“We have no secrets. I don’t want you to think that” Ali pulled his seat a little closer.” Listen I have never had to ask you this before, but I’m dealing with something right now and I just need you to give me some time. Can you do that?”
Fatima looked straight ahead. “You’re going to miss your flight.”
“I need to make sure you’re alright.”
“And if I am not?” She turned to look at him again.
“Then you should tell me.”
“I’m fine.” Fatima continued to look at Ali and in spite of all she was feeling she started to smile.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?” Fatima asked innocently.
“You tell me.”
“I was just remembering something; something the ladies were saying about you today.”
“Oh? Ladies talking about me? What else is new?” Ali smiled although his clear brown eyes still had the heaviness Fatima had seen in them earlier today when he first told her about his trip.
“Aren’t we modest?” Fatima hit him with a cushion.
“Look, I have to go. Are you going to get the girls? I’ll drop you over there.” Ali stood up and held out his hand.
“No, I think I’ll wait a few minutes. I just want to rest.”
“I don’t feel good leaving you alone. Let’s go. We’ll move slowly.”
“Really, I just want a few minutes by myself,” Fatima insisted.
Ali reluctantly agreed. “Fine, I’ll call you in a little while.”
“Inshallah.” Fatima closed her eyes and leaned back again. “Ali did you tell your parents you were leaving.” Fatima called out to him before he went through the door.
“I spoke to my dad, but I had to duck out before Mama caught me. You know she would drill me.” Ali smiled and Fatima couldn’t help but smile back. After he had left she relaxed and fell asleep.

The telephone rang waking her up. It was Ali calling from the airport. He was about to board his flight and was suggesting that she leave the girls with Mama and Papa and get them in the morning. He said he had already talked to them about it. She agreed. After she hung up the phone she prayed, then she transferred to the couch and pulled a blanket over herself. A piece of paper fell out of the blanket when she lifted it. Fatima knew what it was. Ali always left notes around the house when he travelled. The couch was one of his regular spots. He never forgot to do it. Fatima always wondered how he managed to do it without her noticing. She opened the piece of paper. I’ll miss you, it said.
“I’ll miss you more,” she whispered. She pulled up the blanket and went to sleep.

NEXT POST ON WEDNESDAY....thanks to those who are following the chapters. I will decide how many sample chapters to post depending on readership. If you are following and would like to read more (a little more :)) let me know.

CHAPTER FOUR

Fatima returned just as her housekeeper, Patricia was leaving. “I’m all finished Fatima. I’ll see you next week.” It had taken years for Fatima to convince Patricia to call her by her first name, but in the case of Ali, the best she would do was to call him Mr. Ali.
“Oh, thank-you Patricia. Did you eat?” Fatima asked her as she entered the front door.
“Yes, and yes I took the container in the fridge. I’ll return it next Friday.”
“Alright. Have a good weekend, then.”
Fatima closed the door went to look for Rahma. The girls had just had lunch and were ready for their nap. Rahma read them a few stories and put them to bed. After Rahma left Fatima tried to study, but she was exhausted and fell asleep too.
When she woke up it was 5:15 pm and the house was quiet. The girls never slept this long. Fatima went to check on them and saw that they were not in their rooms. She realized that Ali must be home. She went to look downstairs and found him in the kitchen.
“As-salaam alaikum, where are the girls?” Fatima rubbed her face to help herself wake up. She usually used the blow dryer on her hair. Today she did not have time so her hair was still curly, but had been flattened by her hijab.
“Wa alaikum as-salaam, Papa came over. He wanted to visit with them. I told him you were sleeping so it would be better to keep them at his house.”
Papa never needed a reason to take the girls. He lived for them. He often came by to play with them or help take care of them in some way. He had built a huge playground for them in his backyard and they spent many days out there. He also taught them regularly too. All the girls had started reading Quran and the oldest had already memorized much of the 30th part of the Holy Book.
“Did they eat?” Fatima had prepared dinner before going to Naomi’s house.
Ali leaned against the black marble of the kitchen island. “Are you joking? You think I would feed them if they’re going over there? What would happen if they refused Mama’s food? She would probably think they’re sick.”
Fatima laughed. “You’re right. They’ll have more than enough to eat over there. Did they use the washroom?”
“Yes, yes, Fatima they’re fine. Relax. Here sit.” She looked behind Ali and could see that the letters were missing from the letter holder.
Fatima was eager to find out what was going on, but she was hoping that Ali would tell her voluntarily. She slid into the bench of the booth where they usually took their meals. “So what time did you get home?”
“About 45 minutes ago.” Still leaning against the island he watched her closely. Fatima knew that look. He had something to tell her and was trying to find the right way to do it.
“How was your day?” Fatima’s eyes scanned the kitchen in search of the mysterious letter.
“Good, nothing special. Coach worked us hard, though.”
“You look tired. Are you hungry?” Fatima started to get up to prepare his food.
“Actually I am, but I can wait. Come, I need to talk to you.”
Fatima’s curiosity was at its peak. She followed Ali to the family room at the back of the house and sat beside him as he indicated.
“I need to go out of town.” Fatima remained silent waiting for the rest. “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon.”
“What’s going on?” she asked as she tried to keep her voice steady.
“I need to go to Ottawa.” Ali’s face was blank. Fatima couldn’t read anything from it and she was trying hard.
“Why?”
“I just need to take care of something. Nothing to worry about. I’ll be home tomorrow.” Ali's gaze shifted from one of Fatima’s eyes to the other gaging her response.
“When are you leaving?” Why is he being so cagey?
“Tonight. I have a flight for 9:45 pm. I’ll leave right after the soccer game.”
“That’s cutting it kind of close isn’t it?” Fatima couldn’t understand why he was not more forthcoming. This wasn’t like him at all.
“It is, but I think it’ll be ok. I have a meeting in the morning. I’ll try to do it as early as possible then head back home. I’ll be home before dinnertime.” Ali rubbed his chin. “Maybe you should all stay with Papa tonight, or I can ask them to come over here.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Fatima shook her head. Papa treated her like a top priority, especially when Ali was away. Anything she wanted he did for her. She didn’t want to put him out at all.
“At least Rahma should come, in case you need anything.” Ali was never comfortable leaving Fatima alone especially while she was so advanced in her pregnancy.
“If she wants to. Whatever. So are you going to tell me what this is all about? Or am I to die in suspense?” Fatima tried to make her voice seem light but she didn’t think she could be convincing.
Ali looked quickly around the room and let out a heavy sigh. It was clear he was not going to talk about it. “I can’t right now, but I will as soon as it’s all sorted out.”
Fatima was stunned. She hadn’t really expected him not to tell her. She couldn’t believe it. Ali was sitting in front of her telling her that he was about to fly to Ottawa, stay overnight, be back home tomorrow by dinnertime and he was refusing to tell her why.
“This doesn’t make any sense. Ali is everything ok with you?” She was starting to feel concerned.
“Yes, yes, I don’t want you to worry about anything.” Ali nodded his head.
“Don’t shut me out, Ali.” The hurt in her voice was obvious.
“I’ll handle it. I’ll be back before you know it.” He looked up and tried to smile.
The phone rang breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between them. Fatima walked across the room and down two steps to the lower level of the family room to pick up the phone on her desk.

“Hi Rachel what’s up. What happened?” Fatima remembered that Rachel was going to call her doctor.
“I’m at the hospital. I guess the procedure wasn’t done completely so I had to have an emergency D&C.”
“What! Oh no.” What else could go wrong today? Fatima wondered.
“I’m ok, but I’m exhausted and this nurse really ticked me off and now I’m being discharged and I’m really sorry Fatima, but could you pick me up? I’m really sorry.”
“No, of course I’ll come. I’ll be there right away.”
“Oh, and Joshua and Jonah are at the daycare. They need to be picked up before 6 pm.”
“Ali is getting them today. Remember Josh starts soccer tonight?” Fatima glanced up the stairs to see Ali watching her. She turned her back and continued listening to Rachel.
“Oh, I forgot. I don’t think I can make it tonight.” Rachel sounded on edge.
“Don’t worry. Ali can manage. Papa has the girls so he’ll just have your guys. It’ll be fine. I’m leaving now. Bye”
“What’s going on?” Ali stood up and approached Fatima.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Fatima deliberately sounded more nonchalant than the situation called for.
“It sounds like something’s wrong.” Ali had reached the top of the steps.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” Fatima stepped past him and left the room. When she arrived at the storage bench beside the front doors she grabbed her hijab and her purse from one of the three rattan baskets underneath and slipped into her shoes. Ali stood at the end of the hall watching her. She turned and left without saying good bye. When she was finally outside she put her sun glasses on and grunted in frustration. She felt like screaming.
This was the first time Ali had ever kept anything from her. He certainly never stayed away from home unless he was playing ball. Even then he always preferred that she go with him. Beyond that he was acting so anxious. Fatima racked her brain trying to figure out what it could be. She couldn’t help wondering if it had something to do with the letter. But why the secrecy? She had a very uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Rachel waited for Fatima to arrive and when she saw her car she tried to rush to it. Fatima came out of the car to help her.
“Take it easy, here let me help you. Where is your car?” Fatima looped her arm with Rachel’s and helped her to the door.
“It’s still at the mechanic’s. I should get it back tomorrow.” Two people about to enter the hospital stepped aside to let Rachel pass by and looked back as they did.
Fatima smiled at her friend. “Even on your worst day you still turn heads.”
“Ha, they’re probably wondering why I’m being let out.” Rachel eased herself into the car. Fatima stood beside the door after closing it for her.
“At least someone is humble around here.”
Rachel knit her brows and shifted her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Ali doesn’t even pretend not to notice the attention he gets.”
Rachel leaned back and closed her eyes. “He would have to be mentally impaired not to notice, but you know he doesn’t care.”
“I guess.” Fatima walked to her side of the car. After entering and getting buckled she turned her attention back to Rachel. “I can’t believe this. Is this the height of incompetence or what? How could they not have completed the procedure properly? Who was the doctor?”
“Dr. Simms, but I think it happens sometimes. I don’t know. I really don’t have the energy for this. Anyway, there was this nurse.”
“Oh yes, you mentioned the nurse. What happened?”
Rachel relayed the story. She had been sitting waiting for her examination and the nurse that had attended her was young, about Rachel’s age. Rachel thought she would like her until she opened her mouth. After looking at Rachel’s chart she turned to Rachel and asked, “Did you go to the University of Toronto?”
“Yes,” Rachel had replied while she tried to search the nurse’s face for some familiarity.
“And you have two boys right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you Jamie’s girlfriend?” the nurse had asked.

Rachel turned to Fatima. “Now do you think I really wanted to hear his name?”
“What did you say to her?”
“Oh please, I still haven’t answered her.”
“How does she know you? Who is she?” Fatima questioned.
“I don’t know. Did you hear me say I know her? She said she’s a friend of Jaime’s and she heard he had kids. My name sounded familiar and I fit the description. Whatever that means. She ticked me off that’s all I know.”
Rachel fumed at the thought that someone who knew her knew her business, especially a friend of Jaime’s. Maybe she was upset at not knowing what the relationship was between Jamie and this woman. The whole situation was so humiliating and again Rachel was angry with herself. What had she done wrong to deserve this? Why did Fatima end up with the perfect life? What was the difference between them? Even though she kept trying to put her life right it seemed like obstacles kept being thrown in the way.
“Why do you care? Who cares? Just worry about yourself and your kids and stop thinking about what everyone else is thinking because they’re living their lives and it has nothing to do with you.” Fatima was firm.
“The whole situation is just so embarrassing.” Suddenly another reality gripped Rachel. “What if she tells Jamie?”
“What? She can’t do that. What about confidentiality?”
“Oh, wake up Fatima, not everyone follows the rules. I mean, obviously she knows why I was there. What if she tells Jamie? He’ll kill me.”
“I am so sick of hearing about Jamie. Stop making decisions in your life based on him! Where is he now? Where is he when your kids are sick or lonely or hungry or dirty or whatever? Tonight Joshua is starting soccer for the first time. He is so excited, and where is his father? Nowhere, that’s where. Just forget that loser and move on Rachel. For God’s sake what is it going to take for you to get it?” Fatima was starting to get angry.

Fatima didn’t understand. Jaime wasn’t the same guy they had known in high school. He wasn’t just a small time hoodlum any more. He had graduated. He had connections. He really knew some serious people and he could do a lot of damage, to all of them.
“Move on to what? Huh? What? I don’t see any knight in shining armour riding around here. If there was, you grabbed him quick enough. Anyway I have two kids; that definitely reduces my value on the market.” Rachel felt emotion building and that made her angrier than ever.
“What are you talking about? You can have anything you want. You know that. You’ve made good things happen in your life, but you just stopped moving forward. Remember the scholarship?”
Rachel had been a Rhodes Scholar. She had received several scholarship offers. But the one she was really interested in was the swimming scholarship to a top University in the States. She had been so excited to go, but had changed her mind at the last minute, because Jaime had convinced her that their relationship would not survive the distance.”
“I didn’t want to leave Jaime.” Rachel shook her head. “That was stupid wasn’t it?”
“Jamie didn’t want you to leave him. You were ready to go. He was threatened by you moving forward when he wasn’t. What did we tell you then? If you two were meant to be together then you would be and if not you would meet someone better. You didn’t go and now look. You’ve stayed in the same place and where is he?”
Rachel remembered everything. Fatima and Ali had worked hard to convince her to go. She almost thought that they were trying to get rid of her. They had told her all the right things. She just hadn’t believed them.
“Rachel you have to start believing in yourself again. And you have to listen. Allah sends you messages through the people around you. You miss them if you don’t listen. You have so many people giving you good advice, people who really care about you. Get back on your life and start moving forward one step at a time.”

Fatima was right. Rachel knew it, but there had been so much going on at the time. Ali had recently signed with the Razors and he and Fatima were planning to get married.
Papa had insisted that they wait one year to get married. Papa wanted to see how Ali handled himself on the road. He always said, “Every daughter is my daughter and every son is my son.” He would not give his blessing for Ali to marry Fatima until Ali proved that he was responsible. Ali had agreed. He didn’t want to get married without the approval of both his parents.
Rachel had felt like she was losing everything. She had also been afraid to go far away from home and Jaime just felt safe and familiar. Anyway he didn’t become controlling until she was pregnant with Joshua. Or so she thought. Talking her out of the opportunity of a lifetime was certainly a controlling move. Two girls she had competed with had gone on to swim on the Olympic team. Rachel knew she could have been there too.
“You don’t understand. You’re married. It’s different for you.” Rachel turned to look out the window.
“You could have been married too. Ali knows so many people, good guys who would be great for you.”
“Who said I want to marry a Muslim?”
“It doesn’t have to be a Muslim. What about Shawn? He’s a great guy. He would be perfect for you. And what’s wrong with being a married to a Muslim?”
“I just don’t know if I can be that good little wifey, that’s all,” Rachel replied in an animated way.
“It’s all up to you, honey. Just be the good little baby-mother then.” Fatima shot back.
Rachel turned to look at Fatima in shock. She usually was straight forward, but this was harsh even for her. Maybe Rachel was wearing her out. Rachel was certainly exhausted too. They pulled up in front of Fatima’s house.
“Hey, did you forget about me?” Rachel joked.
“No, I want you to come over. You need to rest and Naomi might get suspicious.”
They entered the house and Rachel gingerly stepped on the tiled floor of the foyer. Most of the rest of the house had hardwood flooring. Rachel headed straight for the kitchen and slid into the booth. Fatima walked to the family room to turn on the adhan. “I have to pray, and then we can have dinner,” she said over her shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to wait for Ali?” Rachel asked.
“No.” Fatima said flatly and continued walking.
“Ok, I won’t ask.” Rachel stretched her legs and made herself comfortable. She really loved Fatima’s kitchen. It was large enough to have several people working comfortably in there at once. Ali and Papa had built a wonderful booth, just like the ones in restaurants. It was perfect for the kids, they could just slide in and out and it was great for the adults too. The seats and back were cushioned and exactly what Rachel needed right now. She stretched her legs out and put her feet up on the opposite bench.
From her seat she could see outside through the front window. She was looking directly at her house. Rachel wondered what her mother was doing right now. She knew her mother was worried about her. Fatima was right to have her come over. Naomi had a way of sensing things.
Rachel laughed and shook her head. She had told her mom she could probably go into business. With a sign outside ‘Naomi Knows’ she could make real money telling people all about themselves. That’s why Rachel had to keep her distance for a little while.
The adhan finished and Fatima started to pray. Rachel always felt so relaxed at the sound of the adhan. She had been hearing it for over 15 years and it was the same every time. She really enjoyed watching Fatima and her family pray as well. The movements had such beauty and grace. They all seemed so united when they prayed together.
Thinking about Fatima now she wondered how she kept her balance in her condition. She was just weeks away from having her baby, yet her prayer was still as smooth as ever. Fatima finished her prayer and returned to the kitchen.
Rachel wanted to lighten up the mood. She was expecting Fatima to hit her with a ton of questions and was willing to use any delay tactic necessary.
“How do you manage all that up and down with that huge belly in front of you?”
“I do yoga every day. I’m flexible, fit and strong.” Fatima flashed a smile.
“Ooh, I’m scared! I wouldn’t want to come around here late at night.” Rachel joked.
Fatima heated the food she had prepared earlier and placed it on the table then brought up the subject of Jamie.
“So, are you ready to talk?” she asked Rachel.
Rachel knew that she wasn’t going to get away with not saying anything this time. The time had come to come clean about the whole story. She knew Fatima was not going to let her off the hook again.
“What do you want to know?” Rachel picked up her fork and jabbed a piece of stewed chicken. Fatima usually made this dish on a Friday for her housekeeper. It was one of Patricia’s favourites and Fatima like her to have it when she worked once a week.
“Well, what happened? Why did you decide not to have the baby? Why didn’t you tell us? It just doesn’t sound like you,” Fatima asked.
Rachel sighed. She really wanted to put this all behind her. She certainly didn’t want to discuss this with Fatima. But she felt like she owed her some explanation after Fatima had done so much to help her. Should she tell her about the night that Jamie had come a few weeks ago? She looked out the window. Night was falling and she wondered about her boys. They would be on their way home soon. She was so sorry she had missed Joshua’s big day.
“I was going to have it, I guess. I just really wasn’t thinking about it.”
Fatima remained silent waiting for Rachel to complete her story. “Then Jamie came by unexpectedly and I tried to tell him and he started going off. He was acting like he didn’t believe it was his kid or something. I don’t really get it. I guess it’s because he doesn’t come around that often. Then he said he heard Ali was spending a lot of time with the boys and he said maybe they weren’t his either. It was all so weird.”
“That’s it? You had an abortion because Jamie was freaking out? Who cares? You see him two or three times a year.”
“You don’t understand. How was I going to have another child for such a loser? Josh and Jonah already suffer so much because of him. I couldn’t do that to another baby. I just couldn’t”
“No, this doesn’t make sense. It’s not adding up. There has to be more to it.” Fatima was not accepting this line of argument at all.
“I know it’s my own fault, but you don’t know what it’s like carrying and having a baby for someone that is such a big stress in your life. You have no idea what that feels like.”
Fatima thought about how impossible it would be for her to get through her pregnancies without Ali's love and support. She also knew how vulnerable she felt when she was pregnant, even though she was secure in her marriage. “I understand that. I just feel so sad about it. No matter what, Joshua and Jonah are such beautiful boys and a blessing to all of us. I just think that with all the support you have you could have made it work.”
“For some things there is no substitution,” Rachel said as she played with her fork.
Fatima knew that was definitely true.
“I just wanted to cut ties with him completely. I figured this was as good a time as any. I actually thought I might move,” Rachel added.
Rachel did not want to tell Fatima how scared she really was of Jamie. It was better if she just moved away and got as far away from Jamie as possible. Everyone would be better off, she thought.
“Move where? Why? What about the boys?” Fatima showed her confusion and concern in her eyes.
“I haven’t figured all that out yet. I just think it might be best. I need to put distance between me and Jamie. Maybe if he doesn’t know where to find me for a while that will change things. I’ll take the boys with me, or not. I don’t really know yet.”
“Running is not going to solve your problems. It is not the location that’s all wrong. It’s just you Rachel. You have to fix you. You might think it will be easier if you go, but it will be much better to do it right here, with all of us here to support you. You can’t just get up and go to I-don’t-know-where; and leave the boys? No. You definitely can’t take them away from everyone and start all over. Who will help you take care of them?”
“I’m a big girl now. I can do it.” Rachel knew she did not have a plan, just a desperate need to start her life over, get away from Jamie and make sure that her friends and family did not get caught in the middle. She had a decent job working with the Bell Canada, but she could find another job. Maybe she could get transferred to another office.
“Fatima, Jamie is not small time any more. He knows some serious people. And they are not all street people either. They’re professionals, business people, and politicians. He can make a lot of trouble.”
“Rachel, he’s nothing. He can’t do anything. Stop giving him all this power. Where are you Rachel? This is not you. Has he threatened you? We can call the police. You know you should have done that a long time ago. Maybe you can get a restraining order. I can’t believe the nerve of him. Threatening the mother of his kids? Not that he cares about them anyway.
“I don’t even know why he shows his face around here. He’s just trying to mess with your head. He’s slowly taking more and more control because you’re letting him. Only you can stop this Rachel. Maybe I should go and talk to him. Why, I’ll just go to the police myself. Or maybe I’ll call Shawn, he’s a lawyer. He’ll know what to do.” Fatima went on and on. She was like a faucet that had been left running. She didn’t even notice Rachel’s growing agitation.
“Stop!” Rachel put her hands to her face, tensed her body then let out all the breath in her lungs as she fully relaxed then said. “Fatima, it’s not me he wants to hurt.” She paused not knowing how to tell her best friend the truth. “It’s Ali.”

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