Edited

Banner: muslimah_07

Published: July 6 2015, Monday 12:38 a.m

Ayah:

July 2nd

          'The wind blew in Amy's hair as she sat at her mothers grave, staring out and beyond at the life she could have had if she hadn't talked. If she hadn't crushed the only trust she had. Maybe--"

          I crumbled up the last sheet of paper I had, groaning in frustration. I don't remember writing being this hard before. An idea usually came to mind usually when I was at home, cup of milk in hand, watching re-runs of old western shows. Then again I was laying in Jafar's arms, not knowing that the happiness would end sooner than expected.

          Ever since I was a child I wanted to write. The stories my mother read me were all the same--children's books that didn't have a twist to it. Even as I was nine years old, I knew what I wanted to pursue. With my growing imagination, I kept thinking about all the ideas that would swirl in my mind.

But to be fair, all I could think about was a Muslim princess, nothing major. But when I reached about thirteen, ideas about secret agents and all got stuck in my brain. Since then it's fluctuated to a mixture of all.

          I picked up my pencil again, ready to write. Nothing.

          "How is the writing going?" Mama asked from the kitchen where she was fixing some breakfast.

          "It's not," I put my notebook down, standing up to walk into the kitchen to grab an apple.

          "Have you tried milk? When you were younger that stuff was the best remedy there was."

          I shook my head, leaning on my elbow. "Mama, is there something wrong with me?"

          She stopped whisking the eggs to frown at me, no doubt about to tell me that I'm wrong, but I know I'm not. All this time I thought that Allen was the reason why he wouldn't call, write or even ask me to come to visit him in California. What if I'm the reason?

          The reason why he chose to please absolute strangers other than his family. Now it's all starting to click. Why he's been distant. I thought he changed, but the sad truth is that I think he's trying to forget about me. About his old life so that he can focus on his future. A future that I doubt I am apart of.

          No, I have to stop thinking the worst. I know him. I know Jafar wouldn't purposely abandon his family for money and fame. That's not him, no.

          I stood up from my position at the table and made my way to my room. I need to get out of here. I need some air before I suffocate in my own self consciousness.

-*-

          Usually when someone wants to forget the cause of their worries, they go and have fun to forget about everything in general--they make the thoughts disappear. It hurts too much to think about, so they make their mind blank. They want to be alone.

But me, I am apparently not as normal as I thought. Because I did none of the above. Here, now, I'm sitting under a tree, overlooking the Riverside Lake--our Lake, wondering how I ended up coming here alone.

          This was our spot.

Jafar and I originally found it when we went for a stroll a couple days after our wedding. It's a beautiful Lake with a small bridge where you could jump into the water. And yes, we did jump in when no one was there. It just felt right. The sun beaming down on us, the breeze perfectly blew through hot air.

          It was perfect.

          Without realizing it, a tear rolled down my cheek and light chuckles escaped me.

          I haven't even cried since he left. I just didn't have any tears left to shed, nor did I need to. I agreed, there was no going back. But something with the call last night shifted something in me. It brought all the emotions for when he left.

Cliche as it is, my heart is still hurting, broken, there is no name for it. Well, none that I can think of.

-*-

          After my rather sad day at the Lake, I decided to take another stroll, but this time around Riverside. Its actually a wonder of a town, even though right now it looks vacant. To some it may seem like another one of those small towns where everyone knows everything, they're related to the next persons mother and so on, but sadly it's partly true.

          There are mom and pop shops on every corner, a local art studio for the kids who want to vandalize the city with graffiti. The whole town set up is one off of a movie of some sort.

          As I rounded the corner of another row of stores, I spotted Mrs. Tyler on a ladder. She's a short older woman, black hair with specs of grey. She owns the Diner in the middle of town. Everybody loves the Diner, especially since she was kind enough to serve Halal food.

          She's been a close family friend since I was about ten. She has a couple of kids, but they moved to a bigger City with their families and rarely looked back. Now she lives here with her dog Doug and her foster daughter Carmyn; she's eighteen.

          "Good morining," I smiled, walking up to get a better view of what she was doing. Putting up decorations. The Fourth of July is only a couple of days away, so everyone's putting up the last of their decorations until then.

          "Ayah," Dianne beamed, climbing down frown the ladder to hug me, "It's been too long dear, how's your Mama?"

          I pulled back from the hug first and picked up a banner.

          "She's doing really well, you?"

          Dianne climbed back on the ladder and pointed to the banner in my hand. I gave it to her and awaited her reply.

          "I'm trying to finish these decorations last minute. Let me tell you, don't wait until the last minute or when you're busy to do heavy lifting at an old age."

          "You're not old," I scolded her, handing her the red streamer.

          "I am old, you know why?" I shook my head. "Because I'm at the stage where everything starts to become a chore. Camryn helps me when she can, but I have her running all the errands that I'm physically incapable of doing. I really should sell the Diner to Pete Richman."

          Not only is his name accurate, but so is his reputation. The Richman family have lived in Riverside for decades and own a lot of the big establishments. And if they don't own all of them, they'll buy them from the families that couldnt give up the opportunity. Dianne's Diner is one of the few places they don't own. Occording to them, small shops like the ice cream parlor aren't worth the buy. They've been trying to get Dianne to sell for years.

          They're not very liked in this town, but what could we do? They basically own it.

          "Don't do that!" I exclaimed, giving her the last of the decorations to hang up, "Everyone loves the Diner because you own it! No one wants that family to rule."

            While laughing, Dianne climbed down the ladder and shook her head in amusement. "Ayah, you are as passionate about the Diner since you were a kid."

          "Dianne," I sighed and followed her inside. There are only a couple of people eating at the tables.

          "Debby, can you bring in those boxes from the storage room?"

          Debby, a college student who works here during the summer smiled at Dianne and went to the storage room.

          "I'm serious, Dianne. The Richman's own too much of the town as it is. Its not up to them to decide what happens to other people's lives for their own gain!"

          Dianne stood there watching me carefully. Did I say something wrong? It's just that family gets on my nerves!

          "Are you talking about the Richman's or yourself?"

          What is she talking about?

          I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "I'm talking about the Richman's. They have no respect for others peoples choices to run their lives."

          "Ayah, you're not talking about them. You're talking about your husband and his choices."

          I shook my head and sat at the counter. "Dianne, the last thing I want to think about are his choices. I said yes, it's done."

          "But it's not in your eyes," Dianne sat beside me and held my hand in hers. "I know the feeling, Ayah. My husband left me and our kids to go to battle and never came back. I have to live with myself knowing that the last conversation we had I was yelling. I told him I hated him, and you know why?"

          I wiped a tear from my eye and shook my head.

          "Because I knew that the chance of him coming back was slim. Jafar will come back, believe that."

          "It's been so long," I whispered and clutched the water that Debby put in front of me in my hands. "It hurts to know that we can't have it both ways."

          "You have to have faith that Allah will help you," I smiled at that, remembering all the times that Dianne would come as a guest to the Masjid. She kind of adopted a lot of what we do.

          "Thank you," I leaned over to give her a hug, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding.

          "Promise me that you will talk to him. I really love the relationship you had before he left."

          I nodded. "I promise."

          "Ayah," Camryn came out of the back room, sprinting towards me. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

          "Carmyn, what is it?" Dianne asked slightly cautious of her daughters tone.

          Carmyn just pointed at the TV. "Jafar's having an interview."

          I sat up straighter so I could concentrate on what he was saying.

          "Isn't that the famous boy from our town?" A guy asked from the back of the Diner. Dianne raised her hand at him to quiet.

          "Jafar, what are your plans for this holiday?" The reporter asked Jafar.

          He looks the same. His hair is the same dark messy style under his Kufi, his eyes are as chocolate as the last time I saw him, and he has a slight stubble on his jaw.

          I don't know how many times I told him to grow out his beard.

          "Well, Marcus, I plan on spending the holiday with my family."

          As he said this, I froze, all eyes in the room on me. He's coming back? I can't help but to feel happy, but why didn't he tell me? In the back you can clearly see Allen stiffen from the news. Looks like he didn't know.

          "Ayah," Dianne smiled giving me a side hug. "That's great."

          I nodded, confirming that it was, but conflicted. I want to feel happy, but it's been so long. Will things be the same as when he left? I guess we have to take it slow. But one thing kept me smiling.

          He's coming home.

-*-
          I know this chapter is slightly boring, but I wanted to stretch the story. I hope you like it.

          Also, if anyone wants to put a banner on a chapter, please tell me. It doesn't have to look professional, just your best.

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