The Two Wives of Abdul-Sharif

The Two Wives of Abdul-Sharif - Part XI

     By the time six months had passed, Abdul-Sharif had become much more aware of Firdousi's viewpoint, as well as Asiya's, and even the girls.

     Sometimes there was as much to be worked out as in a business deal, like tonight. It was Asiya's night, but Firdousi had wanted to spend more time at the library before finals and he didn't want her to be on campus at night by herself. "Isn't safe," he told her. 

     "Then go with me."

     "And what am I supposed to do while you study?"

     "Read a book," Firdousi suggested. And he had agreed. But how can I do that when it's Asiya's night? Will she agree? He wondered.

     He opened the door... no greeting, no girls, no Asiya.

     "Oh, Sharif just came in, I better go," he heard Asiya tell whoever she was talking to on her phone.

     "Assalamulaikum Honey," Asiya said. "What's up?"

     "I just came home, that's all."

     "But you're supposed to be at Mommy Firdousi's, Daddy," said Sarah, who was getting her sash tied.

     "But it's your night," he said, addressing Asiya.

     "No, it isn't," Asiya said. "I switched with Firdousi so you could go with her to the library tonight. You thought it was a good idea yesterday."

     "Oh yeah. That's right," he said remembering. "Then you'll have the weekend so Firdousi can study before finals on Monday... But what are you getting all dressed up for?" he asked as he noticed the girls were not wearing their usual play-clothes and Asiya had put kohl on her eyes.

     "I'm hosting the monthly pot luck tonight. Don't tell me you forgot that too."

     "I thought that was next week," Abdul-Sharif said, somewhat defensively. "Since when do you like to invite sisters over?"

     "Since I don't have the girls underfoot all the time."

     And me, thought Abdul-Sharif.

     "Besides, with a pot-luck, I don't have to cook everything," Asiya continued.

     But Abdul-Sharif was no longer listening. 

     "Well, I will see you tomorrow night." Then she added in a whisper, "I bought some of that massage oil you like."

     So Abdul-Sharif left muttering to himself, "Spend more time between Firdousi's and Asiya's than anywhere. Whoever said a man's home is his castle didn't have but one wife."