The Three Struggling Muslimahs

43

Flashback:
"Khawla, are you ready!?" Muhammad asked as he got the car keys from the drawer. She nodded affirmative and followed him out right after she kissed her mom and the triplets goodbye.

On the ride to Rayhannah's place, both were too quiet for reasons best known to themselves. Muhammad seemed tense and Khawla seemed too relaxed. This evening was either going to turn out to be a good one for both or one they wouldn't forget for all the wrong reasons.

A few minutes later and they had arrived at their destination. Ummu Khaleed had invited EVERYONE! Maryam Abbass and her dad were there, Nusaibah, Samarah and their parents - not forgetting Shoaib, Umar's cousins were there, and some of Khaleed's friends from the halaqah. She was glad she had worn something respectable and her headscarf was long enough. She quickly said salaams and ran right into Rayhannah's arms.

"Assalamu Aleikum lovely. I had missed you." Rayhannah said, smiling at her friend.

"Waaleikum Salaam. Me too."
She then rushed to Nusaibah and hugged her too.

"Khaltu UmmulKhayr called my mama and baba and had them promise that they would come. So I had to show up too."

"I'm so glad you are here. Honestly."

"Salaams Samarah. If its a girl, you haaaaaave to call her Khawla. I promise you she will be smart and beautiful. I mean look at me."
Samarah laughed. She was three months due, but if you saw her, you'd think she was about to give birth any minute.

"Hahaha! My Khawla. I missed you habibty. And I'm thinking there are twins in there. Honestly. I mean look at how big I am. Shoaib has a very hard time hugging me goodbye everyime he leaves for work." Shoaib, who was an earshot away, smiled. Oh how he loved his wife, and if he were to speak honestly, he saw no difference at all. She was still as beautiful as she was the day they got married. If it was possible, maybe even more.

"This is she." Khawla heard those words followed by a tap on her shoulder and she turned around only to be met by Mariam and an old man that must have been her dad.

"Assalamu Aleikum Warahmatullahy Wabarakatuh," she said to them as she reached out for Maryam's hand that she had outstretched to her.

"Waaleikum Salaam Warahmatullahy Wabarakatuh habibty. I've heard so much about You. Khawla!? Right? That's your name?"
She nodded.

"All good I hope."
Maryam's dad had the most broad beautiful smile Khawla had ever seen.

"May I have a moment with this lovely young girl?" Abu Maryam asked, shocking Khawla for she was never comfortable around people's parents. The pressure to make a good impression was always overbearingly heavy thus making her say all the wrong things. They walked outside for dinner was no where near ready and sat on the stairs. Maryam keenly looked on from a distance.

"Maryam can't stop talking about you. Honestly. It's always Khawla this, Khawla that." She smiled.

"Awww. That means a lot. She was my supervisor over Ramadhan at the MCC! Khaleed and her. It was amazing."

"Haha! She told me about that. And she also told me that you are an amazing speaker!"

"She lied."
Abbass let out a loud laughter, and Maryam - who was still watching on, wondered what exactly it was they were talking about.

"What do you want to do? When you go to University that is."

"I don't have it figured out yet to be honest. I feel lost completely."

"I know the feeling. I didn't know what I wanted to do either. Until my best friend joined the airforce and I thought why not!?"

"Awwwwwwwwwwwwww cute! My dad was in the airforce too."

"Was!?"

"He passed away or got lost. I don't know for sure. Though he served a looooong time ago. About 10 years ago, we got the news of his 'demise'."

"10 years?"
She nodded.

"When my Maryam was nine?"
She nodded again.

"Is his name Nurein Hassan by any chance?" Khawla's breath got held in her throat. To meet someone who knew her dad let alone worked with him was huge for her. She always wanted to know. Always. How he was, did people like him, was he strict? And so on.
She nodded.

"You are little Khaulaty?"
At this point, tears just began flowing and she couldn't stop them. She had memories of her dad calling her that! Little Khaulaty. But she'd never told a soul. Why would she? Why should she!? She stayed quiet for a while and Abbass, knowing just what to do, started talking about Nurein.

"Owww he was such a man. Was always up hours before Fajr! Woke me up every single day for Tahajjud and even when we had a mission in the next few minutes, if it was prayer time then he had to offer swalah first. Always spoke about his little girl with so much pride. Said she would make the best doctor in the World but either way, he would support you in every step of the way. He wrote you letters everyday. Every single day and hid them under his pillow afterwards. When he received his first salary, he rushed to Wafaa, gave her about all of it and used the other to buy glitters that he used to write your letters with. Said his baby girl should have the best. When tragedy befell him, I took the box with me. I still have it. Its actually in the car right now."
It pained Khawla how he had gone from using past tense to the present when he was done talking about her dad. She wiped her tears away and asked him for the letters. They walked to the car and after she took the box, she dialed an Uber and asked Khalo Abbass to make up an excuse for her back inside.

Khawla cried the whole way back home. 'Who would have known?' She asked herself. By good or bad luck, her mom and siblings were already asleep. She went to her room and opened the book only to be met by hundreds of letters.

"Ya Allah!"
She said as she realized that the box once belonged to her dad. She opened the first letter and the tears came back all over again as she read the first few words.

'Happy 4th Birthday my little Khaulaty'

Its all she read that night - that one sentence. Over and over again. As she thought of how much more fun her birthday would have been if she had that letter.