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Authors: Linda Cassidy Lewis
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says. "Should I take the baby up to the nursery or stay here with her while you guys take
that
somewhere else?"
I wriggle loose from Jalal. "We're not going anywhere. I want my soup."
Jalal shakes his head sadly. "Obviously, we've now progressed to the old married couple stage."
"Only one of us is old." As soon as I say it, I remember what Jennie said and wish I could take my words back, but Jalal only laughs. I carry the food to the table while Jalal gets plates and silverware. "Are you still enjoying your class, Aza?"
"I love it," she says. "It's activated an area of my brain that I haven't used for a long time. The only problem is, since I'm still going by my married name, I thought I'd be safe from comparison with Jalal, but the instructor asked me yesterday if he's related."
"She has to grade you on your own work,
kharar-jan
," Jalal says.
"Not in her head,
baradar-jan
."
"We should teach Adam and Mia Grace those words for brother and sister," I say.
Jalal glances at me as though some part of his brain heard me, but he's still focused on Azadeh. "How does she know you are my sister?"
"I told her. I mean, she asked if we were related, and then I told her."
"But what made her ask that?"
I tune them out and concentrate on my soup because I know from experience conversations like this between them can last an hour. It's driving Jalal crazy that Aza won't discuss her writing with him. I don't blame her. He even critiques my shopping lists.
"… she met you at a conference," Aza says.
That gets my attention.
"What conference?" Jalal asks.
"San Francisco."
"What's her name?"
"Diane Benson. Tall, blonde, pretty?"
He shrugs and shakes his head. How many tall, blonde, and pretty women
are
there at these conferences? Maybe I should go with him next time.
I'm driving Kristen to the mall when she says, "Did my mom ask you to take me shopping so you could grill me about something?"
I'm tempted to lie, but she'll know, and then I'll never gain her confidence. "I wouldn't say
grill
. She's concerned because you won't talk to her."
"I told her there's nothing to worry about. I'm not seeing guys behind her back."
"You're sixteen. Aren't most of your friends dating?"
"Friend. I have one friend."
"I think she's worried about that too." From the corner of my eye, I see her shake her head, and I know she accompanied it with a roll of her eyes. "You had a lot of friends in Seattle."
"Yeah, and my Seattle friends are why we're living in Coelho now." She turns her face to the passenger side window. "Mom's never going to trust me."
I'm not supposed to know about the miscarriage, so I have to be careful what I say. I can't even draw on my experience with my mother, because she never cared what I did or who I did it with. Trust was not a resident in our house.
"I had a miscarriage," Kristen says.
By reflex, I take my foot off the gas and move it to the brake pedal and then instantly reverse that because we're on the freeway and stopping is not an option. "I—"
"You already knew, right? Mom admires you, so I figured she would tell you. Please say you didn't tell Uncle J."
"No. I swear." Aza admires me? "I mean, yes, I knew, but I didn't tell Jalal."
"So you understand why I'm not dating, right? And why my best friend—my only friend—is the
nicest
girl in school."
"No." I take the exit to the mall.
"Forget it. You can't understand."
"You'd be surprised." I pull into the first empty parking spot I see.
"Why are you parking so far from Sephora?" she asks.
"I'll move after we talk. And I do understand why you're hanging out with Brittany, but I'm not clear on whether you even like her."
"Well, yeah, I like her. She's a little boring sometimes, but she's helping me improve my grades. And she's actually pretty funny. But she doesn't date or party yet, so I figured guys would assume I don't either. You know?"
"You can't date without having sex?"
Kristen looks at me like I've suddenly aged fifty years. "I knew you
that
somewhere else?"
I wriggle loose from Jalal. "We're not going anywhere. I want my soup."
Jalal shakes his head sadly. "Obviously, we've now progressed to the old married couple stage."
"Only one of us is old." As soon as I say it, I remember what Jennie said and wish I could take my words back, but Jalal only laughs. I carry the food to the table while Jalal gets plates and silverware. "Are you still enjoying your class, Aza?"
"I love it," she says. "It's activated an area of my brain that I haven't used for a long time. The only problem is, since I'm still going by my married name, I thought I'd be safe from comparison with Jalal, but the instructor asked me yesterday if he's related."
"She has to grade you on your own work,
kharar-jan
," Jalal says.
"Not in her head,
baradar-jan
."
"We should teach Adam and Mia Grace those words for brother and sister," I say.
Jalal glances at me as though some part of his brain heard me, but he's still focused on Azadeh. "How does she know you are my sister?"
"I told her. I mean, she asked if we were related, and then I told her."
"But what made her ask that?"
I tune them out and concentrate on my soup because I know from experience conversations like this between them can last an hour. It's driving Jalal crazy that Aza won't discuss her writing with him. I don't blame her. He even critiques my shopping lists.
"… she met you at a conference," Aza says.
That gets my attention.
"What conference?" Jalal asks.
"San Francisco."
"What's her name?"
"Diane Benson. Tall, blonde, pretty?"
He shrugs and shakes his head. How many tall, blonde, and pretty women
are
there at these conferences? Maybe I should go with him next time.
I'm driving Kristen to the mall when she says, "Did my mom ask you to take me shopping so you could grill me about something?"
I'm tempted to lie, but she'll know, and then I'll never gain her confidence. "I wouldn't say
grill
. She's concerned because you won't talk to her."
"I told her there's nothing to worry about. I'm not seeing guys behind her back."
"You're sixteen. Aren't most of your friends dating?"
"Friend. I have one friend."
"I think she's worried about that too." From the corner of my eye, I see her shake her head, and I know she accompanied it with a roll of her eyes. "You had a lot of friends in Seattle."
"Yeah, and my Seattle friends are why we're living in Coelho now." She turns her face to the passenger side window. "Mom's never going to trust me."
I'm not supposed to know about the miscarriage, so I have to be careful what I say. I can't even draw on my experience with my mother, because she never cared what I did or who I did it with. Trust was not a resident in our house.
"I had a miscarriage," Kristen says.
By reflex, I take my foot off the gas and move it to the brake pedal and then instantly reverse that because we're on the freeway and stopping is not an option. "I—"
"You already knew, right? Mom admires you, so I figured she would tell you. Please say you didn't tell Uncle J."
"No. I swear." Aza admires me? "I mean, yes, I knew, but I didn't tell Jalal."
"So you understand why I'm not dating, right? And why my best friend—my only friend—is the
nicest
girl in school."
"No." I take the exit to the mall.
"Forget it. You can't understand."
"You'd be surprised." I pull into the first empty parking spot I see.
"Why are you parking so far from Sephora?" she asks.
"I'll move after we talk. And I do understand why you're hanging out with Brittany, but I'm not clear on whether you even like her."
"Well, yeah, I like her. She's a little boring sometimes, but she's helping me improve my grades. And she's actually pretty funny. But she doesn't date or party yet, so I figured guys would assume I don't either. You know?"
"You can't date without having sex?"
Kristen looks at me like I've suddenly aged fifty years. "I knew you
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