Page 146 - A Woman Is No Man

ugliness inside her had made her think such a wicked prayer? It was just
that she didn’t want to be the only woman in the house who couldn’t bear a
son. If Nadine had a son, Isra might as well flatten herself on the floor like a

kitchen mat, because that’s all she’d be.
The phone rang, and Isra clenched her teeth. She heard Fareeda squeal,
then Adam choking on the hookah smoke.
“Oh, Omar!” Fareeda said into the phone. “A baby boy? Alf mabrouk.”
The next thing Isra knew, she was standing in front of Fareeda and
Adam, though she couldn’t remember walking down the hall and into the
sala. Trembling, she set a tray of Turkish coffee on the table.

“Alf mabrouk,” Isra said, remembering to smile. “Congratulations.” The
voice she heard was not her own. It belonged to a stronger woman.
Fareeda’s gold tooth sparkled as she held the receiver to her ear. Beside
her, Adam sat perfectly still. He inhaled a long puff of smoke and released
it into the air. Isra moved closer to him, hoping he would say something to
her, but he just sucked in the smoke and exhaled. She had become

accustomed to the silence between them, had learned to shrink herself in his
presence so as not to upset him the same way she had with Yacob growing
up. It was better that way. But Isra worried no amount of shrinking would
prevent Adam’s anger now. He was the eldest; he was expected to have the
first grandson. But now he hadn’t, and it was all her fault.
He turned to Fareeda. “Alf mabrouk, Mother.”
“Thank you, son. Inshallah your turn soon.”

Adam smiled but said nothing. He leaned into the sofa, closed his eyes,
inhaled another puff of smoke. Isra fixated on the long, sleek hookah rope
in his hands, the shiny silver tip clutched between his lips. Every time he let
out a rush of smoke, the room fogged, and she disappeared from sight.
Standing there, she wished she could disappear like that forever.

That night, Adam entered their bedroom without saying a word. He shook
his head, mumbling something under his breath, and all Isra could think

was how slender he looked standing there, thinner than she had ever seen
him. His fingers appeared longer, pointier than usual, and it seemed as
though the veins on his hands had either multiplied or become engorged. He
moved closer to her, lifting his eyes to meet hers. It gave her a strange
feeling.