Jannah. [SEQUEL TO DAWUD]

Chapter 37 - Pre-Dinner

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

If the time of prayer has been called and you haven't prayed before reading this, please do so.

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Warsan's P.O.V

My mother clasped her hands together and melted upon hearing the words. My father peeled his eyes from today's newspaper, leaning forward in surprise. 'What?' He asked Junaid. I unfastened the bow around my waist, slipping out of my apron from the Tea Shop. My life was a 20-year long joke.

'He asked to come over for dinner and to speak with you, Dad. He's interested in getting to know Warsan for marriage.' Junaid repeated. They spoke briefly about his family, education, personality and hobbies. 

My younger brother Hamza sneered. 'Who would want to marry Warsan? Does he have problems with his eye? I'll never-' My mom swatted his arm before he could finish speaking.

'I'm going to my room.' I muttered over my shoulder, picking up my backpack. My mother leaped forward and yanked my arm.

'Warsan, you have to get ready! Your future is going to be walking through that door in a few hours!' She proclaimed. I opened my mouth to protest but decided against it. Her eyes sparkled with undeniable excitement and although I would rather sit through a 7-hour university lecture than the forthcoming dinner at my place, seeing my mother like this was a rare occurrence. It was usually the accomplishments of my brothers that made her smile from ear-to-ear. I chuckled, realizing that the only time my mother was proud and happy with me was when a man was interested in marrying me. Thus was a reflection of her deep-rooted misogyny, but I felt somewhat pleased to see her grinning with pride.

'I'll come down for dinner.' I said to both my parents, picking my bag off the ground again.

My father held a hand out, asking me to wait. 'Warsan, come sit.' He requested. I watched him warily. 'I want to talk.' My brothers, knowing very well what the discussion would involve, raced out of the room tittering. My mother blushed, making her way to the cabinet filled with our special Tupperware. For the next two hours, our kitchen would look like a hurricane. She'd cook every dish she knew. And to make matters worse, there was no reason for her to hold back. Her only daughter was sought out. I sat at the table next to my father and shrunk into my seat.

Muna's P.O.V

I called Jannah immediately. My fingers tapped against my legs anxiously. She answered on the third ring. 'Assalamu'alaykum, pretty girl!' She exclaimed.

I returned her salam breathlessly. 'Remember what we joked about yesterday?' I urged. She thought for a moment. 'The chance of my sister giving birth to twins?'

I laughed, shaking my head. 'No, the other thing!'

'Akhlaaq acting like a mature adult?' She asked. My husband, who was sitting at the dinner table whipped his head around. He glared at me accusingly.

I chuckled sheepishly, waving him off. 'No, not that, Jannah. Remember... someone going over for dinner... at Warsan's house .' I hinted.

Jannah gasped. 'No... way.'

I nodded. 'Yes!'

'Oh my god. How could we have guessed this would happen?' She exclaimed. 'Me and you... there is no one like us Muna. Do you know that? We need to have a TV show.' Jannah was so excited. Just like me, she spewed out nonsense when she was overly stimulated with happiness. We both laughed. From the corner of my eye, I could see Akhlaaq laughing as well. He definitely could hear every word.

'Are you alone at your place?' I asked. She responded in the affirmative. 'I'll ask Akhlaaq if I can come over so we can Facetime her together before dinner!' Jannah squealed happily.

'I have to ask Dawud if that's okay, but he'll say yes. And then I'll bake some yummy cookies! He won't be home till late tonight so we'll have a good time.' She said. I smiled and said my goodbyes.

Behind me, I could feel my husband's accusing glare burning through the back of my head. I turned around slowly, recoiling into my seat on the couch. He had an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. A small smile was plastered on his face. 'See, I could act like a mature adult and say yes, you can leave, and I'll be happy to drive you over to Jannah's place.' He said. I winced. 'Or, I can act immature, make my decision solely based on my emotions, and say no, you can't go.'

'Akhlaaq!' I whined. 'I'm sorry.' I ran over to where he sat and plopped myself on his lap. Brushing his honey-toned curls behind his ears, I kissed him on the cheek. 'We were only joking.' I assured him. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, 'I'm sure you know what that's like - since you joke around with Dawud about how jealous I get with you.'

Akhlaaq's eyes widened with surprise as he cleared his throat awkwardly. 'I'll go get the car warmed up.' He added. I laughed, clapping my hands. Men can be so simple-minded.

Warsan's P.O.V

My dad studied me for some time. 'You know, there have been many proposals for you over the years. We've tried very desperately to get you married. But this one is different. Wouldn't you agree?' He asked.

'He's my age, for once.' I sighed.

'Yes.' My father responded, watching me carefully. 'You've rejected so many men. I've thought for a long time that you didn't want to get married... but now I must ask, do you want to get married Warsan?'.

For some strange reason, the question seemed so invasive. I knew it shouldn't feel that way, and maybe I was just over-thinking it, but marriage always seemed nicer in my head. I could control things up here; my thoughts, my feelings and my expressions. But having it become a reality, and having my parents involved meant that things were no longer under my control. They could do things and say things that could potentially embarrass me or mess things up. And that scared me. But, then again, I do have a problem with keeping things to myself until they become damaging. I needed to work on that. 'Yes.' I said after some time.

But not to him, I urged in my head.

'Do... you... you know...' He scratched his head awkwardly.

My mom stopped cutting vegetables at the counter and turned around suspiciously. I cocked my head to the side confused. 'What are you asking the poor girl?' My mother questioned him.

'Do you have... feelings... for what's his name... Laith?'

'No! How could I possibly? I do not like him. Not in the slightest-'

'Okay.' He said. The apples of my father's cheeks were growing pink. 'Okay, but as I always say, true love comes after marriage. So it's okay that you don't like him now.' My father collected his thoughts as he sputtered out sentences. 'Maybe that's a good thing...'

I stared at him blankly, wondering if this was all a big joke. If I could have it my way, I'd cancel this dinner and save everyone's time. But he didn't ask me to come over. He asked my parents. And there was nothing that I could do. My parents never really listened to me anyway. With a sigh, I slowly stood up from my chair and looked at him for approval. 'Can I leave now?' I asked. He nodded and I marched upstairs to my room before anyone else had a set of questions for me. I threw myself on my bed and looked up at my ceiling. Who on earth gave Laith the confidence to ask to come over for dinner? It was a bit too much, even for him! My mind raced back to the scene after basketball practice with Laith and Uthman speaking to one another in the cold parking lot. Laith had asked Uthman if he was interested in marrying me. He said that if he was, he'd back off.

But now, Laith is coming over for dinner. Which meant...

I sat up and gasped.