TRIALS (Completed)

Three

Whatever’s happening now is for the best. You have to believe that. You might not understand it but if you trust Him, you’ll be rewarded. – Mufti Isma’il Menk.
•••

“Meena!” A voice called from a distance. Meena frowned, eyes closed. Was she still dreaming? “Meena o!” came the call again, getting nearer, but she ignored it. Today was her free day so what was all the calling for?

Then came a knock on the door, too hard to have come from a person’s knuckle. 
“Aunty Amina.” The person called softly.

Meena peeled one eye open and let out a loud hiss.  “Who is that?” She grumbled.

“Ummi is calling you.” It was Bushra, her younger sister and the most stubborn of the twins. Of course, only she would call her Meena. 

“Okay Mummy Bush, I’m coming you hear, shebi you and I have turned mates now?” She said and sat up to wear her pink flip flops beside the bed.

“Sorry,” Bushra replied, but Meena knew she wasn’t.

“Sorry what?” She demanded, standing akimbo. They may not see each other but the seniority was palpable in her voice. 

She heard Bushra’s loud sigh as the door was only a few steps away from her bed. “Sorry Aunty
Meena.”

…

Meena was free from doing the chores, as the twins were at home for their post junior WAEC break.  They finished up and left for their computer lesson, leaving Meena to care for the house — alone — just the way she liked it. 

After freshening up, She headed for the kitchen and dished out a spoonful of scrambled eggs into a white ceramic plate before moving to the standing fridge by the corner to take her share of sliced bread. 

There was a knock on the door. So she kept her food on the coffee table in the living room before answering. “Oh Abu, back so soon?” She asked the seven feet dark skinned man who hurried inside, wearing a light green batik jumper with a black computer bag in his right hand. 

“Yes, I forgot my glasses.” He mumbled.

She shook her head and walked ahead of him to the table where his white glass case sat, awaiting its forgetful owner. She handed it to him as he smiled sheepishly, eye wrinkling at the edges. 

“Shukran Habibti–Thank you my dear.” He said. Meena smiled in reply. But just as she turned away, he added. “I have received his message.”

Meena opened her mouth in shock. That was quick.

“We’ll talk tonight, in sha Allah.”

She could only nod at her father. After he left, she placed her hand on her hand: this man has put me inside trouble o.
…
After serving the evening meal, Meena hovered around the kitchen a bit longer while her folks ate and gisted about their day. 

Nur hadn’t returned her calls her today. She glanced at her phone. But why? Since he had decided to speak to her father without her consent, why was he now avoiding her?

But she didn’t blame him though. It was all her fault. She recalled their previous night's chat.

“Why do I feel as if you don’t want me to meet them?” Nur typed.

“It’s not that,” she replied. “It’s just that… my mother. I know my father won’t have a problem but I still need time.” She typed, adding a pleading emoji for emphasis. She expected his usual ‘Okay, I understand’ reply. But to her surprise, he had vowed to speak to her father while she took care of her mother.