Dawud.

Chapter 37: Grocery Shopping

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

Jannah's P.O.V

I tossed a pack of granola bars into the grocery cart as Dawud pushed it. We were running low on snacks so Dawud proposed we go grocery shopping together.

This may sound very corny, but ever since I was a little girl, I anticipated the first time I'd grocery shop alongside my husband. As we browsed the aisles for almonds (Dawud's request), I chuckled to myself. Dawud was pushing the cart with ease, looking at me through his eyelashes deviously. I never could tell what he was thinking. I just knew he was thinking about something. His eyes landed on a plastic bucket filled with almonds and he placed it in the cart with a smile. "A healthy lifestyle is the best lifestyle." He sighed.

I rolled my eyes. "Next you're going to make us buy protein powder." I half-joked. Upon hearing this, his eyes widened with wonder. "Oh no." I groaned, palming my forehead.

"Protein powder." He repeated as if it was foreign to him. "I've never tried it. Maybe I should."

I laughed and shook my head. "I can push the cart." I said, ushering him away. Dawud stood in place, not moving an inch. "Fine, don't move. I'm paying for the groceries though." I told him with a grin.

He set his beautiful green eyes on me and then my frame. "What type of husband," he tugged my dress and pressed my body against his, continuing, "would that make me?" I gulped, blinking rapidly. Even in the days of our marriage, Dawud still knew how to give me butterflies. "Hm?" He pressed, leaning in to brush his lips against my own. I checked around us frantically only to find that we were alone in the vacant aisle. Dawud tightened his grip and and leaned forward. I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling flustered beyond belief. Dawud was the most charming creature I'd laid eyes on. I stepped back, removing his hand from my clothes.

"Not here." I chuckled, hiding my burning cheeks by turning away from him. "Can I wait in the car?"

"Sure. Here are the keys." He said. "Jannah, here." He repeated softly. I stretched my arm out behind me and found the load of metal he was clasping. I was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. Dawud grabbed ahold of my arm and pulled it softly but strongly enough to have me spin around. I tripped and caught myself against him, placing my hands over his chest. "You're so cute when you're nervous." He said in my ear.

"Enough!" I groaned, hiding my face with my hands. I turned around and headed for the car with a stupid smile on my face. Dawud was something else.

Once Dawud put the groceries in the trunk of his car, he slid into the driver's seat, looking as handsome as ever. He sported an oversized beige hoodie and gray sweatpants. "Have you recovered?" He asked, putting the keys in the ignition. The car came to life with a soft purr.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Recovered? From what?" Dawud smiled and didn't mention the matter again. I am glad he didn't because I was frustrated with myself. I wanted to be able to flirt back, to stop being so shy. It's just that for so long, I've avoided boys and lowered by gaze. Stuff like this didn't come to me naturally and I was embarrassed.

It was late afternoon and Dawud and I had planned on meeting at the car after praying at our local masjid. As usual, Dawud was the last one to leave. He loved the masjid and I loved that. I ran into my father in the parking lot and jumped in his arms. He had his arm slung over my shoulder as we leaned against the car waiting for Dawud to return. "How's the Imam-life, Dad?" I asked him. My father simply shrugged, half-smiling. With the sun lowering gradually in the sky, the clouds were tinted shades of orange and pink around the edges. The heaven rested a clear shade of blue. The tall evergreens around us swayed happily, knowing that for the next few months, weather like this would be prevalent and usual. The scent of pine laced itself in the light breeze of the day. It was then that I whispered 'Alhamdullilah.'

"How's your life?" My dad asked suddenly. My heart ached at his quiet and withdrawn attitude. I told him that Dawud was taking good care of me. "Good," he said, speaking only after a while, "I miss you."

I wrapped my free arm around his middle and sighed. "Only Allah knows how much I miss you."

We stayed like this for a while.

"Y'know," he started, "I've ran into your mom a few times since you've been gone." My father said quietly. The next set of words he said embedded themselves in my mind for the rest of eternity. "I'm falling in love with her again."

I exhaled a deep breath I didn't know I was holding in and took some time to fully register what it was he was saying. My father, who left my mom when I was four, is in love with her again? It only took about fifteen years and two marriages (Mariam and I's) for him to realize it. Nevertheless, I didn't mind. "I'm happy for you Dad." I said. I stopped myself from asking him not tell mom about this. It would break her. Even through the swearwords, tantrums, and items thrown at walls, my mother had always loved my father. Always.

"Thank you." He replied back quietly. I looked up at him, scanning his chubby cheeks, his thick leathery skin, his thin and scarce eyelashes, and his bold eyebrows. My father was growing older. His beard was touched with age, almost as if it was sprinkled with salt and pepper. I missed him. "Would you stop staring at me?" He whined, looking down at me. The excess skin under his chin folded over as he observed me with a goofy smile.

The warm air spun around us and pressed against my back. I stuffed my face in my father's chest and inhaled the familiar scent of cologne and home. I was definitely a daddy's girl.