Islamically Ever After

Chapter Seven

• Bismillahirahmanalrahim •

Please if you guys haven't prayed yet make sure you stop reading, pray and return. This story can wait but Allah (swt) only knows that time doesn't.

Enjoy reading and May Allah (swt) grant all those reading this firdous.

Salams,
Your Sister In Islam

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Yusuf's POV
I quickly lowered my gaze after realising just whose house I was visiting. The men went and sat in the living room while the women went and sat in another room. As I walked with the mum, Ilham elbowed me mouthing 'Oh my Allah!' Oh my Allah indeed. Well I guess our families will get to know each other better inshallah.

We sat on the couches and the talking began. "So Rashid, tell me. How have things been in the office?" Amo Abdullah began to my dad. After that point I zoned out of the world of work, politics and sport.

Ihsan's POV
Ilham, mama, Fatima, Khalto Zaynab (Fatima's mum), Khalto Amatullah (Yusuf's mum) and I all made our way into our formal lounge and I heard a squeal. "Oh my God! Can you BELIEVE this?" Ilham said. "We're like half related"
"Say what?" Said Fatima.
"Baba and Amo Rashid went to school together. When baba said his school friend was coming over I had no idea it was Yu- Ilham's dad" I explained to her.
"Oh! I get it. Subhanalalh. Small world aye!" Fatima replied.
"Mashallah you're daughters are beautiful!" Khalto Amatullah said, referring to Fatima and I. "Jazakallahukheiran" our mums replied. I blushed bright red to which everyone laughed. "She's humble too Mashallah" Khalto Amatullah said to me. I guess that was a good-ish first impression. Right?

I turned to Ilham and said, "So have you thought of any names for the mystery baby?" "Well to be honest Tawfeeq and I have discussed it but we haven't really decided." She replied. "Ooo! Can we give suggestions?" Fatima said. "Yeah sure. Go for it." Ilham said. "Ihsan you do girls names and I'll do boys names" Fatima said to me. "Yes Ms.Bossyboots" I replied poking my tongue at her. "I don't think my baby is the only baby in the room" Ilham said laughing at me. "Dawud. Oh! Bilal! Adam. Musa. Muhammad. Ahmad!" Fatima began. "Calm down Fatima. This isn't a firing squad" I said to Fatima. Ilham laughed and said, "Wow Mashallah! Fatoumi you definitely won't have any problems naming your children inshallah. I really like Bilal and Ahmad Mashallah." "Yaaayy! Did you hear that baby? I'm naming you!" Fatima cried to Ilham's stomach. We all laughed and I said, "Ukh Fatima! If only you're husband could see you now!" She scoffed and said, "If he don't like what he see, then honey he can go look else where!" That was Fatima. Real and honest. But that's what I loved about her. "What about you Ihsan? Would you act differently in front of your husband?" Ilham asked me. "To be honest, I wouldn't be completely myself. I'm confident in my personality Hamdilah but that doesn't mean I won't be shy. I wouldn't change myself in front of him. But over time I'd probably open up more and more, showing him more of my personality inshallah" I said, embarrassed. "Oh look at little Ihsan. Looks like a bottle of tomato sauce has been poured over her" Fatima teased. Ilham cracked up and I simply threw a pillow at the both of them. "Maybe there's a reason for all the blushing" Ilham said winking.

Thankfully I was saved by the sound of the athan for maghrib, signalling the break of our fasts. Great! Now I have to serve a certain someone.

Yusuf's POV
The call of the athan rang out and we shuffled into the prayer room. Mashallah it was stunning. The room was decorated with tapestry and had a traditional Arab seating. Mashallah it felt like we were in the Middle East and it was definitely a room I'd like to have in our house inshallah. Wait...did I just say 'our' house? I was shaken out of my thoughts when Amo Rashid asked me to make iqama (shorter call to prayer). I took a step forward and began "Allahuakbar Allaaaaaaahuakbar..."

After praying we were seated in the dining room and the food looked absolutely to die for Mashallah. After eating proportionately, I tried not to over indulge during Ramadan as this really defeated the purpose of the month, I looked at my watch to find that we still had half an hour before we had to get going for the mosque inshallah.

The women began to clear the table and I got up to help them. My mother had raised me better then to watch someone else work and not help. I began stacking the plates and making my way to the kitchen. I put the plates on the bench to wash them when I heard a scream from behind me "Bismillah! What are you doing Habibi?" Cried Khalto Ruqayah (Ihsan's mum). I swear I almost had a heart attack. "Nonsense Ruqayah" my mum said "the men in my house help too." "Did you hear that Muhammad?" Khalto Ruqayah said to her son. I merely chuckled and continued loading up the dishwasher.

I was walking back to the dining room when I saw my mum carrying a pot to which Ihsan said, "Here Khalto. Let me carry that" and she took the pot out of my mothers hands. My heart melted at her kindness and also that it was done sincerely seeing as she couldn't see me. She was walking with the pot to the kitchen when I said, "Would you like me to carry that?" Noticing her shaking hands. "Jazakallahukheiran but its ok" she mumbled. "Wa iyyakum but honestly, let me carry it." She wobbled and the pot almost fell to which I quickly grabbed it, making sure I didn't touch her. "Oh my God! Jazakallahukheiran. I think my mum would have killed me!" She said, relieved. Realising what she said, she blushed bright red and scurried off. I laughed to myself and said "wa iyyakum" to thin air.

After that little incident, the women decided that desert and tea would be served after the masjid. We all carpooled on the way and secretly I was glad, as that meant we would be returning to their house inshallah.

Ihsan's POV
"Yallah Habibti, let's go!" Ilham cried to me while putting on her coat. "Um...I won't be going to the masjid today Ilham" I replied. "Wha-why?" She cried but Fatima just nudged her and she understood. "Ooooo. Ok then. Don't miss us too much. And by the way you didn't end up giving me girls names missy. So have them ready when we come back inshallah" Ilham said. "Salams Habibti" Fatima and Ilham said waving and I replied. Well I guess now it's a matter of waiting. Or maybe not...I turned around to find Khalto Amatullah behind me. "Looks like it's just me and you Habibti" she said to me. Wow okay. First impressions. First impressions. No pressure. I laughed nervously. "Oh don't worry you'll be fine. Old people can be cool too you know" she said noticing my expression and I cracked up. Maybe this would actually be fun.

In the time that they were gone, we cleaned up a little more, dressed up dessert and she began telling me some of her childhood stories. I could definitely see where Ilham got her personality from. She told me tales of sneaking off for late night snacks, marriage suitors in their day and stories of war. I was laughing, crying an about everything in between when I heard a knock at the door. Subhanallah they were back already? I guess time flies when you're having fun.

Yusuf's POV
After coming back from the masjid, I felt refreshed and invigorated. Nothing like one on one time with my Maker to ease my nerves. I prayed that Allah (swt) would bless Ihsan and put Barakat(blessings) in our union, if it's meant to be.

After being seated again for dessert and tea, the most delicious smell came wafting into my nose as I saw a cake in front of me. It was white, dusted with cinnamon and Ya Allah! Did it smell good!! I couldn't wait to dig in.

Ihsan served me a piece and as I took my first bite, it was pure heaven. Smooth, decadent and moist, it was probably one of the best cakes I ever had. Baba seemed to be mirroring my thoughts because he asked, "Mashallah this cake is amazing. Who made it?" My mum replied that Ihsan made it and Khalto Ruqayah then said, "good wife material eh Amatullah?" And to my unfortunate luck, it was at that moment that I choked. All eyes were on me as Amo Rashid pat my back. "Anything wrong habibi?" My dad asked knowingly. "Nothing Hamdilah baba" I squeaked back, blushing and lowering my head.

An hour later we were ready to leave. Salams were exchanged along with numbers and kisses and we were off. Driving back home, baba turned to me, "Well Yusuf. Looks like we won't need Ilham to get Ihsan's fathers number after all" he said smiling.