“It’s a cloudy and sad day. Somebody might die on a day like that.”

Maman whispers, “Dear, I have money for my own funeral.”

Mahin raises her voice, “If somebody dies on such a day, it won’t be a rainy day. It will be a day of mourning. Can you tell me what use you have for money on a mourning day?”

“There might be a day when only money can prevent a disaster. There must be a day that I can let go of my savings after all, because there won’t be a tomorrow to worry about.”

Shahin has changed his mind. “I don’t want a gun. I want a sailboat.”

Mahin brings her eyebrows together the way she usually does and makes her mouth look small and beautiful. “What about you, pretty girl?”

Shadi looks at Shahin. Shahin is giggling. He knows that Shadi doesn’t know what a sailboat is. Shadi takes her finger out of her mouth and laughs, “A balloon.”

Everybody laughs. Mahin looks at me.

I say, “I don’t need anything.”

“You’re taking it too seriously. Say something.”

Shahin is hanging from my neck, “Say something, Maman.”

I look down. I think about what I want. I don’t know. I want to say something. I want to laugh. I hold my head up, “Letters.” I bite my lips. I know my nose has turned red. Mahin comes closer. She hugs Shahin and me together and starts sobbing.

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A love letter has arrived from Amir. He has written that only when you are far from your everyday life do you begin to realize what you actually had.

He has written that he is only beginning to appreciate me, and that he misses home and the kids. He can’t work like he used to and besides, with winter coming, work won’t be profitable any longer.

He has written that he is lonely most of the time. His neighbor invites him over once in a while. They are hospitable people. Their daughter plays piano for him, and he remembers me in those moments.

Shahla says, “Amir is farsighted. He can only see things from a distance. When he gets closer . . .”

I say, “Everything gets blurred.”

“No, everything is crystal clear. But Amir is blind.”

Shahla is waiting for me to agree with her. I should throw my vicious memory at the wall. I have to remember everything. All those hurt feelings, all the feuds. Where did all that hatred go? But my memory works magic. Everything has vanished, and I feel guilty for wishing that Shahla would leave as soon as possible so I can read Amir’s letter again and again.

Chapter 43

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