Amir should look at me now with the same concern that he had years ago, with the same love in his eyes. He should see the small wrinkles around the eyes of the woman that he will soon lose forever, and show some sympathy. He should see my eyebrows that for months everybody except him has noticed have not been plucked or shaped well. Surely he would hold my hands, and even if it wasn’t a good time to compliment me, deep down he would remember that these are the same hands that got him excited once.

“Hey, where are you? The milk is boiling over.”

With despair, I come back to life. I stir the milk while feeling a world of self-pity. Holding the spoon, I turn toward him and look at him with disappointment. He is bending over and examining his little toe that is dry as a bone. I wonder why a man that calls you “hey” shouldn’t die. Death would certainly make him dearer, the same way that it had with Father. Mahin described him to her husband-to-be as if she was talking about Jean Valjean in Les Misérables, a symbol of honor and honesty. Maman also gave alms to the poor in his name.

I would cry for Amir. I would hit my chest and tear my scarf into pieces. “Amir, come back. I will die for you Amir, come back.”

The women would hold my shoulders and give me sweet drinks, but I would scream, “Amir, come back. What am I going to do with these kids, Amir?”

The women that would hold my hands wouldn’t know that I wanted Amir back as he was ten years ago. The same Amir that when you looked in his eyes, you would say, “Oh my God, what a beautiful color.”

Amir says, “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you going crazy?”

Chapter 23

23

I am looking out the window. I tell Amir, “Hurry up.”

Amir reluctantly comes to the window, and we both look out at the man who practices tambour in the afternoons, and now he is playing with the lock on the door.

Amir says, “I didn’t think he would be so thin. He looks grumpy, too.”

I say, “I don’t think he’s grumpy. He is just sensitive.” And I want to say that he has strong hands, but I stop myself just in time. Noticing two positives at the same time is an exaggeration, and any kind of exaggeration on my part upsets Amir. I go to the kitchen.

According to Amir, people watching is a bad habit. It does not match his personality. But I love it. That’s why I find the window and the peephole very useful. But now it is Amir who is not moving away from the window and is holding the curtain back.