The final stroke of brush left her name beneath the end of the painting. The painting was bright yet dark and mysterious. It reminded her of a situation she once had in life. Behind a bright smile was pain and sorrow. Beneath a pretty face was someone who was tired and wanted to live freely without discomfort. Her lips moved upwards as she stared at her final work. Her eyes moved around the studio. The studio was filled with her handiwork. She had an exhibition few days later and she was ready for it. Her last exhibition was a success. The auction was more successful than she expected. All thanks to her beloved husband.
At the thought of him, she felt the emptiness in her heart. She longed for him, for his warmth and to have him next to her. She wanted to trace her hand over his face, watch him with adoration and witness the undying love he had for her. She swirled her head to the left to gaze out at the opened patio doors of the studio. Her eyes lingered into the day. A tender aromatic wind travelled into the studio from the opened windows and patio doors. Blossomed flowers scattered around the field that had once been dull and frozen from winter danced to the misty air. Their opened petals looked intently into the clear sky. Attracted, she rose to her feet before threading to the opened doors.
Vibrant grasses had emerged from the earth adding radiance to the spread. Sanctified droplets eases the vegetation from the past harsh wintry weather. Slowly, her eyelids dropped. She opened out her arms and inhaled the clean wind. Like divine kisses, the beams of the gentle spring sun warmed her skin. The sun had long risen from the horizon, strands of its light inhabited the awakened day illuminating the coming of beauty. She listened to the happy squeak of birds that fluttered from branch to branch of trees.
Her inner peace had begun when she heard the crash and a wail. Her eyes snapped open before she rushed out of the studio into the grand hallway. She had a reason for not closing the studio doors. She knew they would cause a ruckus or end up fighting. Here she was trying to take care of two troublesome kids and she had another one developing in her stomach. She rushed into the play room which was nothing but a mess and there they were. Her little princesses. The elder one who was five years of age played with her doll. The younger one, three years of age, wailed while staring at the scattered doll house as she slammed her little fist against her sister. She does not need to be told what had happened. Hanan had built the doll house and Inaaya had scattered it.
“You don’t do that Hanan. Stop hitting your elder sister” she scolded walking into the room. The three year old stopped and her wails grew louder at the sight of her mother. “Why Inaaya?” she narrowed her eyes at the elder one showing how displeased she was with everything going on.
“I did nothing mummy” Inaaya said with an innocence she hardly had. Their mother saw through it. She saw the adeptness in her daughter’s eyes which were similar pair with hers.
“What have I said about lying?” she scooped the younger one into her arms. Inaaya pouted bowing her head. “Hey there” she grinned at the weeping one. “It’s okay” she pats her back.
“She ruined my doll house!” Hanan wailed.
“I didn’t. I kicked it by mistake!” Inaaya defended.
“Shhhh” she shushed the older one “We can always build it again” she looked back at Hanan planting a kiss on her head, running her hand through Hanan’s thick bush of a hair. They had her African hair and eyes. The difference was Inaaya was a younger version of her and Hanan had taken her father’s face shape and lips.
“Is there a problem here ma’am?” a voice said from behind. She twirled around to look at the person. The housekeeper, a woman in her early forties, stood by the door in white skirt and shirt.
“Nothing serious” she smiled at the older lady. “They just had a little fight. You could send a maid or two up here to clean this room”
“Alright ma’am” the woman returned her warm smile and left.
“Inaaya” she turned to her daughter. “That’s enough for today. And you know how much I dislike it when you both fight. I do not like it when you cause trouble” Inaaya went silent. Noorie expected a word from her. Inaaya knew it but was too stubborn to utter it. “Inaaya, what are you supposed to say?”
“I am sorry mummy”
“Now good” she nodded her head “Where is your assignment from school?”
Displeased, Inaaya rose to her feet. Noorie could do nothing but admire her. She looked cute in her Zara jeans and a top with her hair which were the same African hair like her mother’s tied to the back. The difference was her daughter would be hairier that she was.
“In my room”
“Go get it and yours?” she looked at Hanan who had stopped weeping.
“In my schoolbag” she replied with a certain cuteness her mother noticed which was caused from the down turn of her lips. With adoration, she smiled wider at Hanan.
“Now go and get it but before then” she placed her on the floor and knelt down next to her. “Mummy does not like to see your pretty face messed with tears” she used the end of the scarf around her next to wipe her tears and the aqueous liquid running down her nose. “Now you look good” she beamed earning a smile from her. “Go get your assignment” she pats her back.
A heavy sigh left her lips after their departure. Now she had to change the scarf. She looked at the messed up scarf in her hand as her lips broke into a smile.
Later that day when the day had faded and night had set in, the three females laid in bed with the duvet over them. In between the Noorie and the younger version of Noorie, Hanan had fallen asleep. She held her mother closer, eyes shut with soft snored emitting her lips. Her hand clutched unto the fabric of her mother’s nightie. Inaaya chattered in a very low voice, cautious not to wake her younger sister.
“Daddy is coming home tomorrow mummy” Inaaya chuckled lowly.
“Yes” Noor replied with a soft smile on her lips. A hand of hers caressed Inaaya’s back. The little one was hyperactive, not ready to fall asleep anytime soon.
“I have missed him” she smiled showing her mother, her perfect set of milk teeth. “Do you miss him?”
Noor’s cheeks flamed. She knew she had turned pink on her cheeks. What a question to ask? Her daughter could barely see her face to notice her mother had turned pink from her innocent question. The light that was switched on barely lit the room. They hated the dark so every night, she had to switch on one of the bedside lamps to brighten the room a bit.
“I don’t know” she whispered into the room.
“I miss him very well. He promised to get me dolls and that books I wanted. He said he would get me another sketch book and coloured pencils” she ranted excited about her father’s upcoming arrival.
“He said that?”
“Yes. We have no school tomorrow. I am happy but I miss daddy”
“I miss him too” she whispered very inaudible for her daughter to hear. Her heart longed for him. He had been away for three days and the distance created a hollow in her heart. The late night calls did nothing to lessen her yearn instead they increased her yearn for him with impatience. “Sleep Inaaya” she whispered running her hand through her back.
Silence dawned in. No one said a word. She was satisfied when she noticed Inaaya had fallen asleep. She rose from the bed after saying duas over her sleeping daughters. Her feet slapped gently against the floor as she walked over the large expanse to the chair. They had not spoken for long that night. When he had called, she was preparing the girls for bed and had not been able to speak to him after he spoke to their daughters.
“Ya Allah” she exhaled feeling the tremendous beat of her heart. Who could believe she would still get such feeling after nearly seven years of marriage? Her hands were clammy like always. She reached for her phone on the sofa and dialled his number.
“Thought you won’t call again” his groggy voice filled her ear. She smiled with a little giggle at the sound of the voice.
“Inaaya had just fallen asleep” she sat on the sofa then crossed her feet.
“I hope she was not troublesome”
“No. She chattered like always and very excited to see you. She said she missed you and asked if I miss you” she laughed.
“So Mrs Hussein, do you miss me?” she imagined the tease on his face and the little smirk he would have.
“You know better than anyone that I miss you Amir”
“Three days Hayati. Just three days away from one another” he chuckled, a deep manly one.
“You know how hard I handle any sort of distance between us” her hand reached for the end of her nightie which she fiddled with.
“Still the same woman I fell in love with”
“You should know I will never change by now” There was a long pause from both sides after that.
“I love you” he said, his voice tender and coated with emotions.
“I love you more. Just get here safely and I promise you a hard kiss on your lips” He cooed at her words making her flush. “I mean it Amir”
“Then we see what happens In Sha Allah” she raised her legs up and folded them beneath her.
“Ameen. Just know that we all long for your arrival. We miss you” her voice had grown soft.
“I miss you too”
In the dark where he was, his heart hammered in his chest. Every part of him bloomed with love for the family he had. He was grateful to the one above for granting him such happiness. He longed for them. He missed his daughters’ disturbance and missed a woman who never failed to cause a skip in his chest. He could see her face, clear and vivid like she was there. He visualized her bold feline eyes, a pair of mesmerising pair that revealed her admiration for him and the longing in her heart.
“No worries” she beamed over the phone. “You can always manage a flying kiss” she sent a kiss making it very obvious for him to hear.
“That did not do anything hayati” he grumbled.
“Manage that until you get your two feet here” she chuckled lightly.
“I will because you said so but I expect the real one”
“You should know I am very good at that”
“Subhanallah Noor. Stop your games. They are not helping me here” he groaned. “Just go to bed” she laughed out loud visualising the frustration on his face.
“So goodnight?” she rubbed her palm over her chest as though it would lessen the rate at which her heart raced.
“It has to be”
“Sweet dreams Mr Hussein and make sure you get a dream about me”
“I do every night” those were his last words before they ended the call.
She sat back wrapped in a comfortable silence. Her mind wandered to the kids on the queen size bed. Due to his absence, she had to spend the night with them. Idly, her hand grazed over her stomach. There was another life growing in there. He was yet to know. She had gotten the news for over a week but could not tell him due to fear of what his reaction would be. She was not sure how he would handle the news not after the warning the doctor had given them following Hanan’s birth. But they tried to prevent it. They used protection and she went on birth control pills. Where had the mistake come from?
Her first pregnancy was great. She was one of those women he rarely suffered from morning sickness. She glowed and was lively. A good man like her husband by her side made the phase memorable. He stood by her, cared for her and pampered her like she was an egg. When she was pregnant with their second child, it was another bliss but little did they know what was coming their way. It was not juicy like the first. It was filled with pain and sorrow. It was the mercy of Allah that they had Hanan.
She got up, her mind clouded with thoughts that created a hollowness which was a case that held in thousand drops of tears. Her walk to the closed window whose curtains were pulled apart to have a view of the night was slow and not rushed. Her steps were measured, a tired face showing what was engraved in her heart.
She remembered the time she had stood by that window years back, what she was a vegetation swallowed up by autumn, dead leaves and almost bare trees. Now, spring had brought it alive. The trees were vibrant, their green leaves creating vibrancy to the spread. Green grasses had sprouted from the earth that was once covered with snow. In the windy spring night, they swayed slowly to the wind as though it was a tune they alone understood. She looked back at the bed. It was that same bed few years ago she had held him when he wept. It was this same room she found him when he had not come home that night. Two weeks after the news about her first pregnancy, he had said they would move out of their home to Hussein Mashood Manor.
“Why?” she had questioned. “You don’t want to live there. You said there are memories in every corner of the house. You would walk every corner remembering them” He smiled then caressed her face.
“You said I can make those memories something I can laugh and smile at. They might be painful but what choice do we have. Some things have to happen. So habibti, why don’t we create unforgettable memories there? You, I and our unborn child” his hand had rested over her stomach.
Three days later, they moved into the manor. A housekeeper, the head butler, maids and butlers awaited their arrival. The manor became a home where they made memories together, memories that would forever be engraved in her heart. Now, there was another problem at hand. How would she tell him she was pregnant again without him getting hurt?
First Epilogue! Please vote, comment and share. Thanks.