Holding Hands

Chapter 43

"Ooooh. That hurt." Hakeem responded playfully. "But for real, Malika. I'd like that."

Hearing Hakeem say my name made my cheeks hurt. I couldn't stop smiling. He had turned out to be a really thoughtful guy. And he was easy to talk to. I found my words flowing effortlessly when I spoke to him. My little experiment was definitely going according to plan.

When I filled Laila in on our conversations, she barely believed me.

"You said all that?" Laila asked doubtfully.

"I really did."

"Well then I guess you're ready for the next step. Therapy." She said in a serious tone.

I burst into laughter. "You have no sense."

"That may be true," Laila countered, "but at least I'm not lusting over my big brother."

"Neither am I." I argued. "And if you were lusting over your brother, that would be absolutely disgusting."

"Barf." Laila gagged in response. "I mean, don't get me wrong. He is fine. My daddy don't make ugly." She harrumphed. "That's why I look so good." She boasted.

"I just can't with you." I shook my head into the telephone receiver. "You should know that I'm shaking my head right now. At you." I informed Laila.

"Whatever." she sassed.

"Ok, back to the real subject at hand. It's time for step #2. I'm ready." I said confidently.

"Oh ok. So how we gonna do this?" Laila asked.

"We?" I sucked my teeth. "You ain't doing nothing."

"What? I'm the brains behind the whole operation!" Laila insisted playfully. "And if it doesn't work out, therapy is still an option."

"I'm hanging up on you." I laughed. "Now what should I wear?"

It took me 30 minutes to choose an outfit. I wanted to make just the right impression on Hakeem's mom. Even though I didn't have plans on marrying Hakeem, I had to play along like I did. Otherwise, there would be no more talking to him. The only reason Abu allowed us to speak to each other was to get to know each other enough to figure out if we were compatible for marriage. Point. Blank. Period. If I gave Abu any inclination that I was just talking to Hakeem to use him as a tongue limbering exercise, Abu would cut off our interactions with a quickness.

I decided on a pale green floor length skirt that billowed out into a complete circle when I spun around. I tucked in a cream and black striped blouse at the waist and a matching cream hijab draped softly over my chest. I let my pearl earrings peak out, from under my scarf, but kept my ears covered. A matching pearl bracelet graced the golden skin at my wrist and completed the look I was going for. Sophisticated.

My younger sisters, Sarah and Shaheedah, could barely contain themselves as they waited for Hakeem's mother to arrive. She was picking me up in twenty minutes for our lunch date. At first, Umi thought it would be better if all of us went out together. Or at least if she accompanied me, but Sister Eugenia had insisted on having time with me alone.