Mubarak was awfully late again, it had to be the late night he pulled in. It had to stop, before he made it a habit, and he wouldn't be useful in today's executive team meeting if he didn't have a cuppa coffee. He envied his brother's knack of punctuality, had things been good between them Bilaal would have served as his alarm clock by calling him repeatedly to get him up and about, hence ready for this meeting. But now he had to rely on his alarm clock which had a snooze button on it.
Why did they create the snooze on it if the aim of an alarm was to do the jarring?
Keeping the folder he had been working on last night on the breakfast nook table, he fixed himself a cuppa. Hajiya had already left the kitchen, a confirmation of just how stately late he was.
Mrs G was out back. Mrs Gabriella, their father's Kenyan aide's wife who they called Mrs G, occasionally came over to help Hajiya Kulthum with some of the domestic work. Her family had been with them at the mansion for so long they considered them family. Mostly in the mornings she was scheduled to come in, they got ready for a mean tasting pastry, which was her speciality, she always came carrying a wickerwork box. In her mid-fifties, she had a charm that was infectious. Mubarak waved at her when she turned around and she beamed at him returning a wave of her own. The cleaners came in twice a week to take care of the mansion, on other days, his mother still made her home presentable.
That woman was strong.
And the swipe that just flashed through his vision was quick. That was his first thought before he realized what had just happened. The scald first registered then the dampness, he jumped out of his seat, and his hands flew to the folder and his bag. Shaking the liquid off the casing of his folder. He snapped at the perpetrator.
"What the heck!" He looked up and there she stood in front of him, he felt like killing someone that instant, and it wasn't his routine thought.
"I'm sorry. It's just that you startled me, I was in the fridge..." She gestured behind her, how did he not see the refrigerator door opened. And what was with her and hiding in cold places? Now she got coffee on his suit and on his damn folder.
Mubarak closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath he miraculously detached himself from the thoughts of murder.
"When next you see me, run." He said, as remarkably equable as he could.
Maryam's eyes popped, she felt the chills from his rolling voice and she swore for a minute there she thought he was going to shred her to pieces. Or huddle her back on the plane she came in two days ago.
She would have begged him not to put her on that plane, not because she was dying to marry him but because she really really needed to get over this thing and get back her old life. And she was really really tired of jets and automobiles she didn't think if he hurled her on one now she would survive it.
Maryam let out a whoosh of air when he stormed out of the kitchen and she landed with a thud on the suede wingback chair.
That was when it all came down to her, she had never seen a combination of forehead and brows that scowled as hard as Mubarak's, and she used to think she had seen him enough times to know his moods. Apparently, she wasn't exposed to the scary side of him. May Allah help her!
****
"Oh please!" Mubarak said, getting off his office couch, he paced the room then turned to look at his friend, Kamaal.
"What?"
"Don't look at me like I need to pity the girl. She was thrown at me, can't you see? I'm still disoriented. Her clumsiness isn't helping matters. And I actually can't picture myself living with that... that girl. Forget about marriage, I can't even stand talking to her. Did I say she is... ugh!" Mubarak held the back of his neck with both hands, turning his face upwards to the stark white ceiling.
"She's just nervous. If you as the man are this flustered following the news of the proposal, imagine what the poor girl must be going through."
Mubarak glared hard at his friend. "What poor girl? How about me, poor me? Wha... you know what, I'll just tell them it is a no on my part."
"And then what? Risk being stuck in the black books of your parents forever? You are this close to getting evicted from this firm from the way I see things here. Your father will soon start sidelining you in official matters. That is a big deal if you ask me."
Mubarak's hand went back to his nape, rubbing the thick muscle there. He squeezed. When thinking alone didn't get him a solution, he only had two options, calling his brother or his friends. But his brother was the biggest bone of contention in his life at the moment, so seeking Bilaal's help was out of the question. Mubarak was left with his league of friends. Kamaal was the one available, even though he was friends with Kamaal, Mubarak knew his judgement sometimes seemed off.
Now Garba was the rational one among them, but the fact was, Mubarak didn't need a lecture at the moment, this was the matter of his life, and he had to live with all the sentiments ahead and the consequences that came with them. Hence the need for Kamaal. Yet, here he was receiving an impossible logical reasoning from Kamaal, it was like they had conspired against him.
"Ya Allah! What do you suggest I do? Tolerate the girl for eternity?"
Kamaal gave him a pointed look, "You know the drill."
Mubarak's eyes widened as he realized what his friend was suggesting. "No! That's not going to happen."
Kamaal shrugged, "Well, just saying, you never know it may work. I mean, it has worked for me."
"No, drop it KR. Hajiya adores her older brother, she is going to kill me when she finds out. And believe me, she'll find out."
"Then brother," Kamaal patted his shoulder. "You just got your only way out."
"I hate you." Mubarak removed his friend's hands from his shoulders, he felt scalded within his core. He looked out his office window to the moving life in the city. An explosion was imminent.
"Thank you. I hate you right back and you owe me lunch." When Mubarak didn't move, Kamaal shoved him forward. "Come on, let's go."
***
On Saturday, Maryam had been in her room when Hajiya Kulthum came in dressed in a black flower patterned gown. Maryam smiled at her, she had always admired her aunt. Had the circumstances been different no one would be as happy as she, to get a chance to be Hajiya Kulthum's daughter-in-law, but it seemed her son was of a different breed of men. She doubted if her aunt's gene was the dominating gene in him, no offence to her Uncle, Umar Bugaje.
"Wa alaikumussalam, Aunty Kulthum. I would have come to you, is there anything you want me to do?" She met her at the middle of the room.
Hajiya Kulthum smiled at her, she held her hands and walked her to the bed-bench, once they were seated, she spoke. "No, Maryam, I'm good. I've spoken with your father earlier and he told me he would like you to go and tour the school you've applied to so that when the session begins, you will find it easy."
"Yes, I've spoken to him too."
"Maasha Allah, That is good. Actually, there may be a thing or two I wanted us to talk about."
"Yes, Aunty Kulthum."
"Call me Hajiya, please."
Maryam nodded.
"I believe you've been spoken to about Mubarak?"
Oh, Lord! Maryam had never thought about the coming of this moment, the moment where her aunt would tell her a thing or two about this, and she couldn't believe she was talking to her potential mother-in-law with no headtie on, her hands clasped in hers, like a friend. She felt her face go warm.
She lowered her head, hiding her face coyly. "Ahaf! Maryam, are you hiding your face from me? Don't do that, I just wanted to tell you something beforehand. I know you are aware of how things were left off during the wedding, so Mubarak is a little bit on the difficult side now. But I trust he will come back to his senses. I've always wanted the best when it comes to matrimony, and I want you to know that just as I wouldn't choose a bad thing for Mubarak I wouldn't do that to you either.
"So, in the course of this courtship, I want you to be honest with me. If you don't find him suitable to be your husband just tell me, and everything will remain as it is now before all this started. You will have a few sit-downs to get to know each other."
Okay, this was strange, her mother would kill her if she said no, and here she was with her aunt giving her an option, she felt as if that was the first time she was being given a selfless choice.
Maryam nodded, not being able to get the words out.
"He will be home early today in sha Allah, do you think you two can meet and discuss the alliance, see if there will be anything of it? Just give it a try, nothing will happen against your will. Tell him I said he has to win your heart before I let him marry you."
Now should be swallow time, but the ground wasn't opening, Maryam couldn't believe what was happening. And it didn't stop at that, Hajiya Kulthum pushed a gift bag to her.
"Try this, I think it will look lovely on you."
She had no idea where that came from, she was so full of nerves she hadn't noticed her aunt came in with the bag.
"Thank you, Hajiya."
"Is there anything you want?"
Maryam smiled and shook her head. "Okay, I'll leave you then to get ready."
When Hajiya Kulthum was out of the room, Maryam ran to the bathroom and splashed her face with some cold water. Her reflection stared back at her, wide-eyed and breathless. This was too much.
She had never been this nervous before, and this was her aunt! Now the real problem lay ahead, since their first meeting, it had been established that there was nothing as feeble as mutual likeness between her and Mubarak, she wondered how this arranged meeting would hold.
She opened Hajiya's gift bag, removing the contents onto her bed. Her mouth hung open. It was a dress. A silky cream, floral-patterned dress. Her hands went to her mouth to cover her excitement. Hajiya Kulthum Maigoro, Mrs Umar Bugaje just gifted her a dress to meet her son in, that was so... Maa sha Allah. She repressed the urge to squeal.
It said so many things at once, It said "I approve of you, I accept you now it is up to my awful son to see sense and know that he deserves you."
It took her all of four minutes to get dressed and look at her reflection in the mirror. The mirror! Now that she thought of it, how did Hajiya know her dress size? Was it store-bought? Or custom made? Did she ask her mother? If she asked, then that meant this was one carefully planned scheme. And that just showed how special she regarded her. Earlier she actually thought her parents were just hyping the alliance stuff. But now her mind was a little bit at ease. Knowing that it went both ways.
Not that she wanted the husband or the wedding, but a little escape wouldn't be bad for her. Staying here, meant she would have that while she tested the waters and see if this thing would work out.
Now about that, she remembered their last encounter with Mubarak, since this was an official meeting, she was hoping there wouldn't be coffee and death glares meddling in between. Maybe reading her mother's little notebook might help.
Maryam refused to know him through a piece of paper when he was only a few short yards away from her. She inhaled and draped her veil over her head, it cascaded down her shoulders covering her chest and her rump. She was good to go.
***
Maryam was glad when she finally made it down the stairs with her heart still beating. Even logged in her throat, she was glad it was working at least. He was there before her and that almost made her bolt. But he turned and his eyes had now trapped her, leaving no room for escape. Sitting there on the couch, he was still in his white dress shirt, no coat, no tie, just pure crisp whiteness, against that fair skin of his, his dark brows, forehead and eyes pinching into a neat scowl, a three-day stubble framed his face, daring her with a deadly gaze.
She cleared her voice. "Assalamu alaikum," She didn't hear him respond, but she didn't miss the subtle movement of his lips either.
And that was the only movement she saw from him, ten minutes later, his eyes were just glued to the TV. Oh, they were playing mute today? She was game. Maryam sat there quietly looking at him watch the TV. He sighed on the thirtieth minute and rose. Yes, she counted, her phone had been in her clutch and she kept timing him to see his breaking point. Apparently, the man was as tough as they would go.
He just left her there to the blank screen. That was rude! She refused to call out to him, she was busy trying to swallow a huge lump lodged in her throat to do just that.
Arrogant-scowling-TV-man! She hissed. Then smoothed her silk dress over her thighs.
She loved the pattern.
Her phone chimed and she almost dropped it.
"Hey, what's up with you? Umma and Abubakar are saying hi." It was Nafeesah.
"You are right on time girl. Just had the first sit-down with him. Say hi back to them too."
"Whaaaat! Tell me more, girl. How did it go?"
Maryam stared at the blank TV still looking at her. "We watched TV."
"What do you mean you watched TV? As in you-have-talked-and-had-extra-time-to-catch-up-on
-your-favourite-TV-shows, watch TV or what kind of TV watching?"
"The mute kind."
"Oh dear! Don't worry all be well, just get a life and concentrate on your writing, let him make the chase, he will soon crack."
Maryam smiled. "Thank you, good night. I don't mind him staying super glued and never crack, though."
Nafeesah laughed. "Vile girl."
***
Three days after their TV-watching sit-down. Maryam and Wafiyya were in the kitchen making dinner when he came in looking for Hajiya Kulthum, she had no idea he returned home at this time and as usual she was dressed in her black Jilbaab, one would think she only wore one dress since her arrival, apart from the day she wore Hajiya's cream dress, she had always stayed in her black Jilbabs. Maryam was sure her mother would be so dismayed if she were to learn of this.
Between trying to push through her writers' block and talking to Nafeesah, she would have drowned out the thought of Mubarak, but her mother had called for the thousandth time and kept probing her to see if she had actually used the list she had given her to make the acquaintance phase moving along. Eventually, she would have something to give her, a no or a yes would suffice.
"What sort of mess are you making in here?"
Mubarak asked, standing over the mass of wholewheat batter Maryam was mixing. Wafiyya began to speak but Mubarak dismissed her with a look. Maryam didn't speak since he hadn't directed his question at anyone in particular. And her alkubus dough wasn't a mess. He may have had a bad day but she wasn't going to talk to him until he was human again. Had he ever been polite to her?
She walked to the sink to wash off the batter from her hand, that was when her eyes caught the gleam. She turned around slowly her eyes fixed on the knife he was holding. She moved back swiftly, gripping the marble cabinet for support.
"Are you... going to kill me, Ya Mubarak?"
Mubarak's brows furrowed, he saw the shock on her face then, he followed her gaze to his hand, when he saw what she meant his lips tilted into a half smile.
"No, but if you say my name again, I may consider doing just that."
Mubarak dropped the knife he had found lying at the edge of the kitchen island back into the knife block.
Maryam gave him a choice glare. "Murderer," she mumbled.
Mubarak's eyes widened at her utterance. And suddenly he wasn't feeling kind anymore, this girl was uncouth.
Maryam saw the transformation, from an unmistakable frown to a fiery anger.
She leaned back into the cabinet behind her. "What? I was just trying it out, you said not to call your name, I have to find an alternative for you then. Don't you think? And it is considered Haram to threaten an innocent person with a weapon, by the way." She finished her eyes on the block of knives.
Mubarak shook his head and left the kitchen without a word. He was going through a lot to let this girl drive him even crazier than he already was. The girl had just been at the house a few days. Hajiya had told him that she would be here for some crazy course she would be studying, which he knew was just another excuse to trap him. She should just pack and leave.
If she thought she was going to slither her way into his house and subsequently into his life and find it comfy, then he got bad news for her.
There was no vacancy.
***
More will come in a day or two in sha Allah.
I had an exam today and have been through a mean headache these past few days.
Missed you all.
As I said earlier, this will be a slow book, so please bear with me. As long as I live your updates will come in sha Allah.
Umm Yasmeen💞