Child Brides of India

By C. Stanton Leman

Chapter 67: A Solution (Mgg, rom, cons, no sex)

I, along with Priya woke at six and Faatina had left Priya’s breast and was lying on her back sleeping soundly. Leeya was scrunched up under my armpit and snoring. I reached over and stroked Priya’s face and asked her, “Well, Momma, ready to face your first day as a parent?”

She giggled and replied, “Why not, I’ve already fulfilled my first night.”

I turned and stroked Leeya’s back and she stirred, smiled in her sleep and whispered, “I love you, Sean.”

“I love you too, Sweetie,” I answered.

We rose carefully, letting Faatina sleep. We showered and said prayers, after which I woke sleeping beauty and started to get her dressed. After removing her PJ’s, I checked her diaper and she was wet. I changed her diaper and dressed her in a little yellow sundress with blue flowers.

Leeya observed me and commented, “Boy’ you’re a good daddy!”

“Thanks, Munchkin,” I replied. “It looked easy because she didn’t fight me this time. You should’ve seen her yesterday, boy was that a mess!”

Arriving downstairs late, Monaavi had arrived early. Mom and Dad were explaining how we were now her guardians and caring for her. Seeing her, Monaavi said, “Oh my! She’s a very beautiful little girl. How old is she?”

“Three,” I answered.

“Will I have a new student?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “not at the moment, maybe later on; right now she has to learn to be a toddler all over again.”

Mom asked, “Well how’d it go last night?”

Priya smirked, not knowing what to say when Dad asked, “Well, Priya?”

I was feeding our new charge some eggs when Priya replied tentatively, “Well…”

“Well what?” Mom asked.

“Well, I kinda nursed her.”

“Come on,” Dad said, “isn’t that going a little too far?”

“Oh believe me,” Priya responded, “it wasn’t my idea. She turned in her sleep and just kinda latched on and started sucking.”

Mom chuckled and said, “I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s probably a subconscious infant memory. What’d you do?”

Monaavi blushed and asked, “I don’t mean to be personal, but you people sleep naked?”

Priya smiled and nodded.

Looking down shyly, Monaavi asked, “What was it like knowing she wanted to nurse? I mean what did it feel like to you?”

Priya shrugged her shoulders as she swallowed and replied, “I was shocked at first. I didn’t know what to do so I just let her suck. After I made up my mind to let her continue, I had a strange feeling of bonding with her like she was my child. It felt very intimate but at the same time, it was very comforting too. It still felt kina weird though.”

Monaavi seemed to be dreaming as Priya talked, blushed and said softly, “I’m sorry, I was just thinking what it would be like to nurse my own child.”

Monaavi shook her head as if to come back to reality and added, “Anyway, that probably won’t happen for me.”

Not wanting to intrude on her thoughts or embarrass her, none of us replied. Knowing that Monaavi could keep the confidences of our home, I told her I needed to speak privately with her after breakfast. Dad went to the office and the two urchins went out back as Mom, Priya and I showed Monaavi to the study. After spending thirty minutes giving Monaavi the sordid details and the fact that I would be marrying this infant-like toddler, she asked me basically what Leeya had asked me last night concerning intimacy. I gave her the same answers I gave Leeya and she was relieved to hear my answers.

Mom said that she was going to call the seamstress and begin making the arrangements for the wedding. Monaavi offered to help in any way she could, including babysitting if necessary. I thanked her as we stood to start our day.

Mom contacted the seamstress and made an appointment for a fitting tomorrow at ten am. She then called the banquet facility and made arrangements for the hall for a total of thirty guests. The date was now set: four weeks from today I would take Faatina as my bride.

Things were somber for most of the day as Faatina played with everyone in the house in turns. Priya got the opportunity to change her first dirty diaper and to my surprise (and shame) did a better job than I had yesterday.

Faatina’s fitting the following day, according to Mom, was interesting to say the least. Faatina squirmed and giggled, thinking it was a game and the seamstress was frustrated at every turn when she tried to take a measurement on the wiggling little worm. After a two-hour struggle, it was done. Mom and Priya had to bring her back in two weeks for the final fitting.

The rest of the week was pretty much the same: subdued and somber. None of us relished the idea of what we were planning and every time we watched Faatina playing innocently, it made us want to cry. Pondering this, the cogs in my mind began to work. What if Priya or Leeya refused to allow the marriage? What would happen then? Could I divorce Faatina? If I did, what could or would happen to her? This needed further investigation.

Faatina spent a lot of time in my arms wanting to be held, crying if I put her down. I wondered how this would affect my relationship with both of my wives because a good portion of the day was devoted to Faatina’s care. I had yet to receive the dreaded call from Amaad.

Priya and Mom had been handling the majority of Faatina’s personal needs such as bathing, changing and dressing her, but I did occasionally change a diaper or two. At night after dinner, she would sit in my lap, squirm around or play with body parts such as her toes, my nose, ears and hair. Faatina started to show signs of progress in her motor skills on Friday evening.

To get where she wanted to go, she’d usually roll. But that night, she got up on all fours and started to rock back and forth. Mom said that she was in the early stages of learning how to crawl: a good sign. That weekend, Priya, Leeya and I went shopping while Mom babysat and we bought an umbrella stroller along with some clothes both girls wanted.

Saturday evening, Faatina went from a position of lying on her stomach, rising to all fours and ultimately to a sitting position after an hour of concentrated trials. It brought all of us a glimmer of joy watching her determination as she slowly made tiny milestones. On Sunday, she crawled about three feet before falling forward on her stomach, bumping her chin and crying as a result. After some cuddles from Poppy, she was fine and went about her business.

Leeya and Attiya were the most fun to watch, using Faatina as a live doll as they played house. The girls would sigh in frustration when their “daughter” was disobedient and tried to scamper off. They’d drag her back to her position and scold her gently with pointed fingers; Faatina just stared at them with a finger in between her smiling lips. Both girls were noticeably gentle and loving with her and to my utter amazement, Leeya even changed Faatina’s wet nappy once! I thought to myself that girls must naturally have an inbred mother gene. One thing I noticed, Faatina was quick!

On Tuesday the following week, Amaad called. I told him, as Priya translated on the extension, that the arrangements had been made and gave him the date and time for the ceremony. He seemed smugly satisfied and said that he and Alpa would be there. I asked him if Alpa could come by and visit Faatina but he refused saying that she had other duties to attend to.

That night as we went to bed, Priya asked Leeya if she would mind sleeping next to Faatina. Priya said that she was beginning to feel funny about dry nursing Faatina at might. Leeya, not knowing this, agreed. Leeya simply embraced the little girl close and soon they were both asleep.

Priya and I were startled awake about an hour later by a high pitched squeak when Leeya exclaimed in a raised whisper, “My gosh, she’s trying to suck my booby! What do I do?”

Priya giggled and said, “You’re the mommy, either let her suck or stop her.”

“I don’t know why she’s doin’ it,” Leeya inquired, “I don’t have any boobies to suck!”

I chuckled and replied, “Well, she’s sucking something isn’t she?”

“I won’t start making milk, will I?” she asked.

Priya laughed and replied, “No I doubt that, little momma.”

“Well,” Leeya said, “I guess it won’t hurt nothin’.”

Figuring Leeya had dealt with this issue in her own way, we went back to sleep. The next morning at breakfast, Monaavi was sitting having tea as we ate and Leeya leaned over and said to her, “Guess what happened last night?”

Monaavi blushed, probably thinking Leeya was going to impart some more sex Ed talk and replied, “I can’t imagine, what?”

Leeya leaned over and whispered loudly, “Tina sucked my booby last night!”

Monaavi blushed a bright pink and exclaimed, “She did?”

“Yup!” Leeya affirmed.

“Gosh!” Monaavi said surprised.

“I guess that makes me a real mommy now, doesn’t it,” Leeya proclaimed.

Nodding with a giggle, Monaavi replied, “Yeah, I guess it does.”

Mom and Dad just shook their heads and smiled: Dad behind his paper and Mom behind her cup. Monaavi was a very devout girl and I wondered just what she knew of Islamic law, so I said at the table, “I’ve been thinking. What would happen if Priya or Leeya refused to allow the marriage?”

Everyone’s ears perked up and paid attention to my line of questioning. Priya said, “I’m not sure. I wonder, what would happen?”

Monaavi put her cup down and wanted to speak but was hesitant. Seeing this, Mom asked, “Do you have any thoughts, Monaavi?”

Monaavi began shyly and said, “Well… If I understand the circumstances correctly, Sean has to marry Faatina because he concluded a valid marriage contract with her father. Because of this, what’s her father’s name?”

“Amaad,” I replied.

“Because of this,” she continued, “Amaad gave up custody and rights to his daughter. If Priya or Leeya refused to permit the marriage, then the contract becomes invalid and custody of Faatina would revert to her father and he can seek other proposals.”

Everyone’s heart sank at this revelation and I simply said, “Oh.”

“But,”’ Monaavi interjected.

Hanging on for the disclaimer, everyone’s eyes were on her and Dad asked, “But what?”

Monaavi set her cup down, looked around at us and asked, “But what if… what if Sean went ahead and married her. Then he would have legal custody of her permanently.”

Mom quickly interrupted, “That’s no solution: he’s already going to do that. This is what we want to avoid.”

“Let her finish, Joan,” Dad replied.

“Like I said,” Monaavi continued, “What if Sean married her and was able to get the doctor to give him a letter saying that Faatina’s illness might very well be permanent and that she’ll never be able to execute her duties as a wife, primarily, to have and raise a child. This would give him grounds for a divorce. Sean may have to talk to the Imam, but I think that he can still keep guardianship if, as a condition of the divorce, he states that because of her age and infirmity and because he cares about her welfare, she’ll remain in his house and he’ll support and raise her as a disabled daughter.”

Mom jumped up, ran to her taking her cheeks in her hand and kissed her on the lips saying, “That’s brilliant, Monaavi!”

Monaavi blushed a light pink, smiled and added, “It might at least be worth a try.”

I handed Faatina to Priya and went to the phone. I called the Imam but he was in a meeting so I left a message with the cleric on the phone telling him it was very important. He said he’d have Imam call me as soon as was possible.

I asked Dad if the guardianship papers were with the lawyer and he replied yes, but he wasn’t sure if they’d been filed. He flipped open his cell and speed-dialed the lawyer. After a two-minute call, Dad told us that the papers had been filed and that it would take a week or so to get the legal documents back from the court. He asked me why.

I replied, “Because I can use them as proof that even if I divorce Faatina, I can still keep custody of her as her guardian.”

“Good point,” he agreed.

As we planned this, I shook my head and Priya said, “What? What’s the matter?”

I replied somberly, “It’s just a shame that this child may very well be married and divorced before she’s four and might never know any of it.”

“All that counts,” Mom answered, “is that she’s cared for and loved: married or not. The good thing is, if she ever grows to a point of normalcy, she can fall in love on her own and get married.”

Dad left for the office while Priya, Mom, Monaavi and I discussed the possibilities. Attiya and Leeya took their little “daughter” to the living room to play.

Monaavi seemed different in some way. It was as if she was happy to be participating in these discussions as part of the family. Priya and I looked at each other and smiled as we observed her talking with Mom.

About an hour after I’d place my call to Imam, he called back. I restated my fears and concerns for Faatina’s life and welfare and that I agreed to marry her solely as a means to not only protect her life but to ensure she received the care and a loving environment to give her a chance to recover.

He warned me that I was walking a very thin line and that entering a marriage with the foreknowledge of obtaining a divorce, under most circumstances, would be somewhat deceiving. He said that since my intention for obtaining the divorce wasn’t for the purposes of ridding myself of the obligation of caring for her in her infirmity and that I would continue pay for her support and care, honor the dower agreement I’d promised her in full and that she wouldn’t suffer mentally, emotionally or financially from this, it might be permissible. He told me he’d have to discuss this with a quorum of clerics to be sure.

He asked me if I had such a letter in my possession. I answered no and that I hadn’t even called the doctor for one yet. He advised me not to even call the doctor yet until he called me back. He said that he’d discuss it later in the day with the clerics and call me this evening or tomorrow morning after prayers. I thanked him for his instruction and after exchanging salaams, disconnected the call praying I’d have his answer sooner rather than later.

I returned to the table and informed everyone of my conversation with Imam. Since he hadn’t shot down our hypothesis right away, we felt hopeful that our plan had a chance of succeeding. If it came to pass, I could raise Faatina as my daughter and not have to bear the burden of guilt of being married to an infant-like toddler.

Mom and Priya went to the facility manager’s office to make the arrangements for the wedding. Monaavi schooled the girls while I took Faatina for a walk in her new stroller. She was happy to be outside and after about an hour of walking, she wanted out and to be held. I scolded myself for taking such a long walk and that now I’d have to carry my little girl and push the stroller.

“Suck it up,” I told myself. “The workout will do you good.”

It was distracting trying to walk, push a stroller and keep her hands off my nose. I’d no sooner get her to leave my nose alone when she’d start pulling my hair (Ouch!).

We had passed a small shopping district on our walk and on the way back I stopped in a little shop and looked for something to occupy her with. I bought her a small, soft and cuddly stuffed tiger and the bright colors immediately caught her attention. I bought the tiger and a small, soft, cute baby doll and voila! She sat in the stroller without a struggle cooing over new newfound friends.

As I watched her play, I realized that she had no toys so I called Priya’s cell. She and Mom were getting ready to leave the caterer’s office and I asked her if she and Mom could stop and get Faatina a few toys and Priya agreed saying that she’d completely forgotten about buying her any toys.

As I walked and watched her play she turned and smiled at me. I said to her, “Be patient with Daddy, Sweetie, I’m still learning: just like you.”

Faatina looked back at me in response to my voice as if to say, “Whatever.” She then returned happily to her new toys.

We arrived back home around three and after stowing the stroller, I set Faatina on the living room rug to play with her doll and tiger. Mom and Priya returned about a half hour later with several shopping bags. Mom saw the doll and said cooing, “Oh that’s so sweet! Daddy bought her her first dolly!”

Mom, being an educator, picked out a few educational toys: building blocks, puzzles, some colorful basic shapes, a little work bench with different shaped pegs and a tiny hammer, along with a big teddy bear. Looking at the hammer, I thought she might start banging on things with that weapon. Hmmm, better watch out for that.

I went to the study door and watched as Monaavi worked with the girls. I was surprised to notice that it looked like Attiya was more open and participating more and not so withdrawn. Ever since I’d bought the piano, she’s been a totally different girl. Mom may be right. Maybe she’ll open up and overcome her disability through music. It certainly appeared she was headed in that direction.

Trying to keep myself occupied while I waited for Imam’s call, I called the investigator. He told me that Mahmoud has seemed to have disappeared and blended into the millions of people living in New Delhi. He said he’d keep looking and we disconnected.

I mentioned to Mom and Priya my conversation with the investigator and Mom said scornfully, “That coward may never be found. I’d like to see him get what Tallie got! Haseeba can get a divorce for abandonment, can’t she?”

“Yes,” I replied, “In fact, it would probably be better for her if that’s what happened. At least she wouldn’t be required to pay anything and she’d have legitimate grounds for an outright divorce.”

We went into the living room, opened up all the goodies and spread them out on the floor. Faatina was in toy box heaven. She’d flit from one thing for a few moments then put it down for another. Chuckling at her enthusiasm, we left her to her own devices.

After Monaavi had completed the routine of instruction on the primary subjects, the girls took a break about four. After having some tea, she called the girls back in for their music lessons.

She started teaching them how to play “Rock-a-Bye Baby” and as usual, Attiya picked it right up only now, she was adding a base line to her tune. We just watched on in amazement.

“Soon,” Monaavi explained, “she’ll be playing chords with the melody.”

Again, we watched in utter amazement!

The Imam called at four-thirty and said that he had to be quick but that He and the clerics agreed that if I guaranteed her dower in full, lovingly provided for her needs, supported and raised her and that if I were to produce such a letter, a divorce would be granted. He “advised” me by saying, “If I were you, I wouldn’t contact the doctor until after the wedding.”

“I understand perfectly,” I replied, and thanked him for his ruling and after exchanging salaams we disconnected.

Everyone including Monaavi looked at me expectantly for my answer. I simply smiled and Mom exclaimed, “”Yes!”

Priya and Monaavi hugged and sighed in relief. Mom turned to Monaavi hugging her said, “You’re a genius, girl! I could just kiss you to death!”

Monaavi blushed so deeply she covered her face with her veil. I grabbed Priya around the waist, lifting her off the floor hugging her in relief.

Priya said, “Oh, Sean, I’m so happy now! I’d gladly raise a daughter, but it would be difficult knowing she’d be raised as your wife!”

Mom called Dad and gave him the good news. Priya turned and said, “Now, Sean, you’ll need to buy new wedding clothes.”

Turning to Monaavi, she asked, “What color would you suggest for him?”

Monaavi giggled and replied, “Oh I couldn’t.”

Priya pressed by saying, “Come on, Monaavi, what color do you think he’d look good in?”

“Well,” she said shyly, “I think with his blue eyes and blonde hair, a light blue trimmed in sliver would look nice, but that’s just my opinion.”

Mom stood back with hand on chin considering it and replied, “You may be right, Sweetie. Yes, I think that would do nicely.”

I guess from the female quorum that I’d be wearing blue. Dinner that night was very relaxed indeed with us now knowing that Faatina would end up becoming my daughter with the hope she could one day she’d grow up healthy and find her own true love and marry.

The week and a half went fairly smoothly as the wedding date approached. I wanted so badly to call the doctor but the Imam’s words kept ringing in my ears, “If I were you…”

I’d spoken privately with Monaavi’s father and explained to him what was going on and that Monaavi had arrived at a legal Islamic solution to allow me to finally raise Faatina as my daughter. He was very proud of her and the fact that she knew enough about our faith to help.

Another bright note was that my period of quarantine had passed with no symptoms and both of my wives now wanted some one-on-one attention.

The final hurdle was deciding on a place for Faatina’s henna party. Adib and Salima were busting at the seams with two girls in the house, Me Ma only had a tiny efficiency type apartment and having it at Amaad and Alpa’s was out of the question.

Monaavi excused herself from the table only to return several minutes later. She coughed as if to want to say something and Mom said, “Is everything all right, Monaavi?”

“Yes, Miss Joan,” she replied, “I called Papa and he said we could have Faatina’s henna party at my house, if you wish. I called Momma and she said that it would be fun.”

Priya grabbed her hand and said, “Oh that’s wonderful, Monaavi, but what about afterwards. Faatina can’t leave the house or see Sean until the wedding?”

“Well,” Monaavi replied, “the wedding is on a Monday. If we plan her party for Saturday, I could babysit her over the weekend. The only thing is, is that I would need a lot of help on Monday to get her ready.”

“That’s perfect!” Mom replied. “Priya, Leeya and I can come over early Monday morning and we can get her ready!”

“Right, Mom,” Priya said. “It’ll be fun: just us girls!”

The little snot suddenly remarked, “Yeah, Monaavi, maybe ‘Tina will suck your booby at night!”

Monaavi got so red with embarrassment she stood and quickly went to the study as Priya followed after her. Mom slapped Leeya’s hand and scolded her by saying, “You, young lady, are punished! No TV or movies. If Priya agrees, you’ll also lose a night with Sean this week! That was totally uncalled for and rude!”

“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically but added softly, “but she might.”

Mom smirked and replied, “You’re incorrigible girl!”

Monaavi and Priya returned a few minutes later and Monaavi was still blushing behind her veil. “I’m sorry, Monaavi.” Leeya said, “I guess I was a really bad snot this time, wasn’t I?”

Monaavi nodded and said, “I forgive you, Leeya.”

“Priya,” Mom said, “When the girls go to lessons, I need to talk to you about her punishment.”

Leeya looked at us and gulped. This would be the first time that Leeya had ever needed to be punished but she knew she deserved it. It was decided that Leeya would lose one night with me, and that nearly broke her heart. As Leeya cried, Monaavi tried to intercede for her but Priya was unyielding and said, “She needs to remember to respect people and not talk lightly of such things. It’s not proper and I’m sure she’s learned her lesson but she has to bear the consequences of her actions.”

The following day, Tuesday, was Leeya’s lost night. I went to the clothiers and purchased my new wedding garb: a light blue sherwani with intricate silver patterns with matching pants and shoes and kufi. Priya said that Monaavi was right; I looked very handsome in those colors.

I had contacted Amaad through Adib and we made arrangements for the day of the wedding. Mom, Priya, Monaavi and Leeya would get Faatina ready and take her to the banquet hall. Amaad and Alpa would meet them there and get ready for the ceremony. The ceremony would be a small private family affair and not very extravagant.

The tiny bride-to-be had her final fitting and adjustments and Mom was to pick up her attire the following Wednesday. I asked but was told to mind my own business when I asked what color her garb was.

When Priya and I were talking about the interim time between marriage and divorce, Priya said, “Although she won’t be your wife for long, she’ll still be your wife and I have to be fair.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“I have to treat her fairly, Sean,” Priya replied. “That means she’s entitled to spend her first week as a bride with you alone.”

“Nonsense!” I responded. “We know why you made that rule for Leeya, but Faatina and I are not going to be doing anything intimate, so why bother?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she argued, “I have a duty to be fair to her, regardless of whether or not you two are intimate. She may never know, but I will. When you divorce her, I will have fulfilled my duties fairly to her and respect her position as your wife: even if it’s only for a day, a week or a month.”

“Ridiculous!” I retorted.

“Ridiculous or not,” she stated, “that’s the way it is.”

I wasn’t happy with her statements but I knew she wouldn’t budge either.

“Well,” I said, “what are we gonna do about tonight. It’s Leeya’s night of abstention?”

“Tonight we play. I will make it up to her though; she wants you as much as I do. I’ll give her an extra night next week before we both have to do without you for a week. If we can have your permission, is it okay with you if she and I share time together while you’re indisposed with your “new” bride?”

“Funny,” I replied sourly, “you two get to have fun while I get diaper duty.”

“There’s a bright side,” Priya teased.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“You could always take over nursing duties from Leeya: yours are bigger than hers!” Priya giggled.

“Ha, ha,” I scoffed, “don’t tell her I sad so, but maybe Monaavi would fill in for me.”

“You wanna know a secret?” Priya asked.

“Do tell,” I inquired curiously.

“She really likes the idea,” Priya revealed, “She asked me in the study if Faatina wanted to nurse, would it be okay with me if she let her so she could feel what it’s like.”

“Really?” I asked surprised.

“Yeah,” Priya said. “I told her that I didn’t mind at all and Faatina wouldn’t mind either for that matter. She’s been acting strange lately. She seems more sensitive, blushing more, it’s like she’s a little school girl.”

“I’ve noticed the blushing,” I noted, “but as for the other, I haven’t really been paying attention. I’ve had the feeling she likes being included in our discussions but I just chalked it up to being interested in the girls and Faatina’s welfare.”

“Maybe so,” Priya conceded.

As I rubbed her soft chocolate butt I asked, “Okay, back to our discussion. What do we do tonight?”

“Wanna chocolate overdose?” she asked coyly.