Twice Upon Qadr - A Shot At Love **EDITING**

Chapter 6

Houssam stepped outside of the house, and inhaled deeply. The smell of rain was in the air, and there was a cool breeze that arrested him as soon as he had closed the door behind him. He tightened his jacket around himself, and after pulling his hood over his face, he began to walk down the sidewalk towards the Masjid.

It was early in the morning, about fifteen minutes until Fajr came in, and while he knew he could have caught a ride with his dad, he couldn’t remember the last time he could go outside without being harassed by dozens of people with flashing cameras, and he wanted to take advantage before they found him here. His manager was staying at his apartment in LA to serve as a decoy, to give him some time to spend with the family, so as long as he kept a low key, and no one leaked to the press where he was, he would be able to walk to the Masjid for the next few days.

He had been home for two days now, and couldn’t remember a time when he had been happier. Upon his arrival, all of his family was at his parent’s house. His sisters, their husbands and kids, his grandparents, his Uncle and Aunt, Ilham and Hisham and their children. It had been a night filled with laughter and fun and lots of happiness and love, and Houssam had never wanted it to end. He had sat with his nieces and nephews, the youngest, Kareem, settled in his lap, and listened to all of them as they excitedly told him of what was happening in school and with their friends. He had sat in between his grandparents, blushing slightly as they told him how proud they were of him, and he had spent some time catching up with his sisters and his brothers in law. After everyone had left he had helped his mom in the kitchen, and went to pray Isha at the Masjid with his dad where he had seen a few of his friends and had had a mini reunion.

Today though was going to be a giant party that his Halaqah brothers were throwing for him, and it was going to be so huge, that they had rented out the multipurpose room of the Masjid. While he was looking forward to seeing everyone, it had been two years since he had spent the vacation after a season back at home, he also was a little nervous. When he had come back to visit it had always been for just a few days, where he would spend it with his family, and then go back. While he knew they didn’t do it on purpose, his friends tended to act in awe of him, and things weren’t exactly as they used to be. It’s not like they still weren’t close, but they treated Houssam like a celebrity, which he already got from the rest of the world, he didn’t need it from his best friends.

He stepped into the Masjid just in time to hear the Adthan being called, and as he made his way into the Musalla, he had to smile to hear the familiar voice of the Amu giving the call to prayer. Amu Qais had been the Muadthan at the Masjid since Houssam was a little kid, and it brought back wonderful memories. He took a spot in the front row, waiting until the Adthan had ended, before standing and praying his two Raka’at for entering the Masjid, and his two for Fajr. Once he had finished he had a few Amu’s come say salaam to him and welcome him home, before he sat back down and as there still was half an hour before they prayed Fajr, he pulled out his Tasbeeh.

As he sat there, he began to reflect back on his conversation with Amir the day he had picked him up. He had been thinking about what he had said a lot lately, and he had to conclude that his brother was right. The best thing for him to do was to get married, and that scared him a little.

It’s not like Houssam was afraid of commitment or anything. On the contrary he had always seen himself having a big family. The problem was he had very high standards. So high, that no girl had yet to meet them. While he knew that it was unrealistic to have such expectations when no one was perfect, he couldn’t help it. He knew what he wanted and he didn’t want to settle for less. However, as Yusra had once told him, when you find that person who is your soul mate, you compromise on some things. Not because you are lowering your standards, or are settling, but because they become what you want.

“Houssam!”

Houssam glanced over with a smile as Hisham plopped down next to him, and he leaned over to give his friend a handshake.

“Salaam bro! How are you doing?!”

“I’m good Alhamdulillah!”

“I didn’t know you came for Fajr!”

Hisham grinned.

“With three children, this is the only alone time I get.” He joked, and Houssam laughed.

“How are the kids doing?”

“Alhamdulillah they are great. Layla started preschool last week and Ilham is a mess.”

Houssam laughed again.

“What is it with women? Yesterday Yusra was going on and on about how Kareem was growing so fast and soon he was going to leave her and go off to college. The child can barely talk!”

Hisham smiled in amusement.

“I’m not sure if it is a women problem, or a Shaykh women problem!”

The two of them laughed, before standing to greet another few Amu’s who had come to say their salaams. The older Amu’s in the Masjid knew that Houssam was famous, but they weren’t too familiar with basketball. As for the youth they followed his career most faithfully. The previous night, Houssam had arrived to pray at the Masjid just as the youth groups were letting out, and he had signed thirty two autographs and had taken just as many pictures before he had even gotten in the door. What was funny was a lot of those kids he had known their families since before they were born, so it was a little weird to see them fawning over him.

“So are you ready for your big shin dig tonight?” Hisham asked, and Houssam raised an eyebrow.

“Shin dig? What are you eighty?”

“Shut up!” Hisham said pushing his friend, and he laughed before bringing his knees up to his chest.

“Yeah I guess.”

“What’s wrong bro?”

“I dunno I’m just nervous.”

“You are nervous? You are famous!”

“Yeah I think that’s the problem. I have to put up a front for the world, I don’t want to have to do that here at home.”

“Why do you feel like you have to?”

Houssam shrugged.

“I know they don’t mean to, but the boys treat me differently. I mean when I bumped into Mohammad and Rami yesterday they just stood there awkwardly. Before I was famous, Mohammad would have teased me like crazy.”

Hisham was silent for a moment before putting a hand on Houssam’s shoulder.

“They love you and care about you very much, and are extremely proud of you. They probably don’t know how to act anymore.”

“But it’s me! I haven’t changed!”

“But you have,” Hisham said with a gentle smile. “And I don’t just mean your fame and wealth. But you as a person have matured and have grown into yourself. You are a strong independent successful young man. You can’t fault them for being a little intimidated!”

“I guess.”

“Just give them time bro. They have only seen you a handful of times in the past few years. You are going to be here for a few months, InshaAllah when we all hang out together more, it will be like old times.”

“InshaAllah.”

Soon Hisham got up to pray his Sunnah, and ten minutes later Amu Qais called the Iqama, and they all rose to pray.

As he stood in between his dad and Hisham, and listened to Sheikh Saad’s beautiful recitation, he felt an incredible wave of contentment and happiness flood through him.

He was home.