24

At the Thai restaurant by their hotel, Tahera and her family are already seated when Seema arrives. Tahera stands up as though for a hug, but changes her mind and scoots over to make space for Seema. Ismail raises his hand to his forehead in a silent salaam.

Tahera introduces Seema to her children. “This is your Seema Aunty. Remember I said Ammi has a sister? Say salaam.”

“Assalamu Alaikum, Seema Aunty,” the children intone. They are seated opposite Seema, with their father between them. Amina is shy, and hides her face in her father’s kurta. Ismail smooths her hijab over her head and asks her not to behave so bashfully—what will her aunt think of her?

The more interesting question: What do they think of Seema?

Tahera hasn’t seen Seema for fifteen years. She first notes what Seema’s wearing: a long skirt and a demure full-sleeved top, brown and beige. She’s both relieved and irritated by Seema’s choice—she’d expected Seema in jeans or pants and in brighter colors. She wonders what Seema makes of her own attire, of Amina’s hijab.

In the quick appraising glance Ismail gives Seema, he sees that she is stylishly dressed, poised, sure of herself, matching Tahera’s various accounts. The prospect of a divorce seems to have had little effect on her—she is cheerful, unflinching, unabashed.

Arshad can’t stop staring. He notes the differences: his mother is in a hijab, his aunt isn’t; there are dark circles around his mother’s eyes, while his aunt’s face has makeup and lipstick. His mother is like a moth, his aunt like a sparrow, sharply etched. “This is your sister, Ammi?” he asks.

Seema replies, “Yes, I’m your Ammi’s sister.”

“Are you Ammi’s little sister?” Amina asks, chewing the tip of her hijab to allay the vague sense of trepidation Seema produces in her. Seema’s smile appears welcoming, but Amina holds back, uncertain. She associates warmth and motherly attention only with the flowing curves of a jilbab and hijab.

“No, I’m your Ammi’s big sister.” Seema laughs, tapping Tahera on the shoulder. “I’m two years older.”

Tahera smiles back, a quick piqued smile. It irks to acknowledge that Seema does appear younger. How fresh her sister looks, while she is already tired, wishing the visit to San Francisco were over. She reminds herself that she’s added the stress of this meeting to the stress about her talk the next day at the conference. She says, “Wait till you become a mother yourself.”

Seema winces, and Tahera assumes Seema is reminded about her divorce. Her sister is clearly not as happy as she looks, nor as invulnerable as she pretends to be.

They study the menus, a welcome diversion. Arshad and Amina already know what they want—fried rice! Thai fried rice is one of Arshad’s favorite dishes. Seema decides on a chicken dish with basil and green peppers. Arshad and Amina glance over to their father.