Holding Hands

Chapter 29

I sank into the brown butter leather chair in front of my parents' bedroom window waiting to sneak a glance at Hakeem when he pulled up to go on his "man date" with Abu. I hadn't seen him since our family dinner and I wanted to get another look at him. There was just something about him, despite his high water pants and poetry. Something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I wanted to see him again. I couldn't get his face out of my head, and sitting here in the window, my stomach was in knots. And I didn't know why? He would serve his purpose and then be out of my life forever. Right? Besides, today was just a formality for daddy. I was sure Abu would consent to Hakeem speaking to me with no trouble at all. He clearly already liked the boy. We'd be talking on the phone in no time. Chaperone or not, I'd be able to check off the first goal. Abu made it seem like he wasn't just making Hakeem hang out with him for the day in order to get to know him better. Whatever Abu's plans were, I was sure Hakeem would continue to impress my dad. What could Abu do to Hakeem anyway?

The crisp Saturday morning air blew through the windows of Hakeem's car as he drove over to Malika's house and parked on the street just past the mailbox. He was nervous to be meeting with Malika's dad, but was trying his best to shake it off. He wanted Malika's dad to like him. Most adults thought he was too cocky. So he'd practiced tuning that all the way down. To Hakeem, cocky actually meant confidence. He knew what he wanted and he knew just what to do to get it. Maybe this was the first time Malika had seen him, but Hakeem made sure to check Malika out long before their dinner meeting.

Malika was on his radar from the moment his family had moved to Atlanta. Hakeem remembered the first time he'd laid eyes on her. He was standing besides a low couch taking off his shoes before entering the musallah of the Atlanta Masjid. It was the first time he had attended Friday jumah prayers in the city. Jumah was an obligation for men, so he never missed it for any reason. His brothers and father had already entered the musallah, but Hakeem was wearing his dress shoes and had to untie them and find a cubby to stash them in before going inside the prayer area.

That's when he saw her. The huge wooden doors of the masjid opened wide and a ray of sunshine cut across the floor and right onto Hakeem's shoes. The brightness was blinding, but was soon blocked by a shadow. He looked up to see the most lovely sight he'd ever seen. The young woman standing in the doorway was in a royal blue dress with golden embroidery. The silky scarf she wore on her head flowed down her chest in waves, also gold. The light surrounding her blocked his view of her face, but Hakeem already knew she must be gorgeous. There was just something about her that spoke to him. As she entered the building, her long dress billowed out behind her and the front of her dress gently pressed over her body, outlining the silhouette of her shape. His heart stopped in his chest and Hakeem quickly looked away, lowering his gaze. Good manners dictated that the first look was from God, but to keep staring was from the devil. He didn't look back up. He hadn't seen her face though and he tried hard to convince himself that he didn't have to. He'd come here for the purpose of praising his Lord, not to ogle beautiful women.