ᗷE TᕼE ᗰOTᕼEᖇ TO ᗰY ᑕᕼIᒪᗪ

Chapter 1

LAYYAH'S POV

"And....that's 7 kids this year. Including 3 from last year" I said, looking at the entry list.

"7?! Ya Allah! Didn't we have like 5 last year? 5 were enough, now 7? We need to get more employees, Layyah." Sumaiya spoke with exhaustion written all over her face.

"Calm down. That's the only reason we're here for, Sumaiya. Babysitting. So it doesn't matter how many we have. We'll get the employees soon so don't stress yourself out too much. My cousin in high school will be helping us out every now and then. She needs hours for National Honor Society" I assured Sumaiya.

"It's alright, but infants are hard to babysit. You need to be very careful with them. They're so fragile" Sumaiya whined, picking up the toys scattered on the floor. "And there's Izyan, who doesn't stay calm a second without you. You can't even look after anyone else."

Sumaiya's statement about Izyan brought a huge grin over my face. Izyan is a 5 months old angel I've been babysitting for the past 3 months. It was kind of strange to see a baby of only 3 months to come in to our daycare. We never actually had that young entries. But the reason was fair enough too. Poor kid's mother passed away when he was born. Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un [We surely belong to Allah and to Him we shall return]

The father worked so he had no other choice but to trust his child to us. Izyan was so young that he actually needed a lot of attention. He is an adorable child. While taking all responsibilities of Izyan, I had no idea how emotionally connected I have become to him. In romance novels, protagonists don't realize when they fall in love with the guy and here I am not knowing when I fell in love with this adorable angel.

Sumaiya is giving weird looks for I just realized that I've been smiling at my own thoughts subconsciously.

"I heard you were really smart in high school. Even in college. You know you could've ended up earning a lot of money if you chose a path of engineering or may be medical. Why daycare?" Sumaiya questioned curiously as I packed Izyan's belongings in his baby blue dyper bag. His dad will be here to pick him up, very soon.

"Well..I didn't really aim for a job I'd make lot of money out of. I've heard a wise saying that says nothing is worth it if you aren't happy. Money was never the goal for me, rather a job that made me happy," I explain putting on socks on Izyan's tiny hands and feet. It's a cold January. I continued saying, "Spending time with kids always made me happy ever since I was in high school. So I thought I would love babysitting, so here I am. My dad built me a daycare center and I'm very happy here" I finished with a smile at her.

Sumaiya rolled her eyes but not in a mean way, haha.

"Well of course money wouldn't be your goal. You're already a wealthy man's wealthy daughter" she reasoned with a fake frown.

"That sounds so wrong. Babysitting, isn't so bad. I know you love it too since you've been sticking around here for the longest time" I mocked her, letting out a chuckle.

She actually does like it. It's just the frustration of a lot of work that makes her complain so much.

Yes, my dad built me a daycare. I really wished there was an Islamic Daycare around where I lived. Unfortunately, there weren't any for the next couple miles around here. So, I decided to have one of my own. The reason I wanted an Islamic daycare, is because we can babysit and develop the kids in the most Islamic ways. We even teach alphabets and numbers to a little older ones. In countries like America, both parents work for better living. In such cases, raising an infant happens to be very tough. Which is why I thought it would be a good idea to have a daycare for the fellow Muslim brothers and sisters to be very comfortable leaving their kids in our care. Fortunately, my daycare has become quite known in this region and we're doing very good.

The sudden ring of the bell interrupted our stream of conversation, when I realized it must be Izyan's dad.

I get up and reach for the door as Sumaiya prepares Izyan's leave. I open the door and tall brother Rehan walks in shivering and shaking off the dew drops on his jacket. I felt sympathy towards the poor man. How hard must it be to work outside and also raise an infant all by himself without his wife's support. He must be shattered due to Izyan's mom's death. Indeed, it wasn't too long ago.

"Assalamualaikum" he greets as he walks in.

"Walaikumsalam. Are you okay, brother Rehan? You seem quite cold. The wind outside is very harsh." I asked him out of concern.

"Yes Alhamdu- aachhoo!" He sneezes as soon as he planned to say he was fine, I'm guessing. "I'm fine, not including the cold of course" he said with a mild chuckle, following which I chuckle too.

His nose turned bright pink as he adjusted himself. He looked very young for a father. Though I don't really know how old he is. But I do know a lot of older people who looked very young. I envied them. One thing I had no doubt about was that, Izyan sure got the looks from his father and not having seen his mother but assuming she must've been as beautiful.

I repeat Astaghfirullah to myself as I realized my stupid thoughts that came without any invitation. I walk to Izyan and take him in my arms and then grabbed his dyper bag. I walked back to his dad and return him in his dad's arms. Brother Rehan took him as he forwarded his hands to take the dyper bag from me. He said, "Assalamualaikum and thank you again," with a genuine smile on his face. He thanks me everyday for taking care of Izyan. I guess he's just as grateful and relieved to find his child safe and healthy.

"Walaikumsalam" I say before he left.