Lovebirds

seven

The Muller family sat around the table in joyous merriment, expressions vibrant like the laughter that escaped them. Daris was telling their mother a story from his internship at a cyber security company about one of his new bosses. Her parents eagerly listened, offering a few puffs of laughter and slight smiles here and then to make his story more animated. 

Naira's mind was elsewhere. Her eyes drifted to her father, his blonde hair neatly brushed back as gray strands peeked in the light. On the outside, he looked stern with his freshly cut hair and the small beard that grazed his jaw and chin. His glasses, similar to Naira, only added to his look of sophistication. 

On the inside, he was a kind-hearted man that valued his family and religion above all else. There were nights from when she was a child that Naira would often see her father crying in prayer as he made duaa (small prayer) for the success and happiness of his children. 

It made her wonder. Could that have anything to do with his past?

Her father's electric blue eyes landed on her. "You've been awfully quiet," he noted, leaning against the palm of his hand. "Did you have something on your mind?"

"A small thought."

Her mother perked up at that. "Was it with the boy band you're working with? How are they?" she questioned excitedly. 

"Wait," said her startled father. "She's actually the manager of a boy band?"

"Dad, you're a little late," mused Daris with a foxy grin as if he'd say something to anger their father. "They're not just any boy band either. It's the Red Knights."

"What?" bellowed her father, Nicholas. His eyes darted between his wife's laughing form and his devious son. "How could you all approve of this without me?"

"Honestly, Nemo, it's not a big deal," sighed her mother, Dina.

She rose from her seat, quickly tying her silky black hair into a messy bun before gathering all their dinner plates and heading to the kitchen. Her husband was right behind her still sputtering nonsense.

Her mother was a woman of Bangladeshi descent, the daughter of two immigrants who saw life in America as an opportunity for their young children. Even though her mother was born in the United States, she still upheld her culture and religion.

She was not the type to back down from a challenge, a quality Naira admired. A Muslim woman in journalism was rare, but her mother did the job with ease, ignoring the critics and all their meaningless insults. She was proud of her deen (religion).

Similar to Daris, their mother had a sun-kissed complexion that brightened whenever she saw her children. Her brown eyes emulated the warmth Naira always needed after a tiring day at the office, and her arms told her that she'd always be safe.

Ya Allah, let me be as strong as my mother. Help me make life easier for her.

Naira rolled her eyes, following her parents. "Dad, it's only to get experience in the corporate world. Grandpa thought-"

"No, you stay quiet," interrupted Nicholas with a deep frown. "I can't believe he thought this was a good idea to put you in a room full of non-Mahrams at all times."

Dina slapped his chest. "Nemo, she's an adult now. There will be times where she will have to cross paths with non-Mahrams, especially if she's pursuing business," she chided. "She's a good girl, and she knows her boundaries, don't you, Naira?"

She eagerly nodded. Go, Ammu!

"But a boy band?" asked her father incredulously. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "They're eligible bachelors and my daughter has to work with them? Sweetheart, you must see why this is an issue."