Page 86 - A Woman Is No Man

Sarah recoiled from her mother’s hand. “But Mama,” she said, softer
this time, “it really isn’t fair.”
“Fair or not, that’s the way of the world.” She turned to leave. “Now go

downstairs and help Isra in the kitchen.”
Sarah sighed, pulling herself off the bed.
“Let’s go!” Fareeda said. “I don’t have all day.”
In the kitchen, Isra and Sarah stood with their backs to one another, each
with a rag in hand. Sarah was a short, slim girl with golden skin and wild,
curly hair that dropped past her shoulders. Usually she said very little when
they cleaned together, though sometimes she’d catch Isra’s eyes and sigh

loudly.
In the months that Isra had lived there, she and Sarah had barely spoken
to one another. As soon as Sarah came home from school, the first thing she
did was sneak into her room to drop off her backpack. Isra realized now she
was likely hiding her books. Then Sarah would join her in the kitchen to
help set the sufra, or wash dishes, or fold any extra laundry Isra had not

already finished. Some evenings they sat together in the sala with Fareeda
and watched her favorite Turkish soap operas. Sarah sipped mint chai and
ate tea biscuits, and, when Fareeda wasn’t looking, cracked roasted
watermelon seeds using only her front teeth, a habit Fareeda usually
forbade to stop Sarah from ruining her perfect smile.
Now Isra felt sorry for Sarah as she watched her scurry around the
kitchen, wiping counters, washing dishes, and rearranging the cups in the

cupboard. Is this what she had looked like back home, in Mama’s house,
running in circles until all the housework was done?
“So, how are you feeling?” Fareeda asked Isra, squatting in front of the
oven to watch a batch of sesame cookies bake. It was her third batch this
week.
“Alhamdulillah,” Isra said, “I feel good.”

Fareeda removed the batch of cookies from the oven. “Have you been
having morning sickness?”
“No,” Isra said, unsure.
“That’s a good sign.” Isra noticed that Sarah had stopped what she was
doing to listen to her mother. “How about cravings?” Fareeda said. “Have
you been craving sweets?”
Isra considered the question. “Not more than usual.”