The Book of Fate (55 page)

Early the next morning, Parvaneh called. ‘How are you feeling? I didn't sleep a wink last night.'

‘Oh, we are so alike,' I said, laughing.

Then she quickly started to give me instructions.

‘First, colour your hair.'

‘I coloured it only recently.'

‘It doesn't matter, do it again; the roots didn't take the colour too well. Then take a hot bath. Afterwards, fill a big bowl with cold water, add plenty of ice and stick your face in it.'

‘I will drown.'

‘No, idiot! Dip your face in it several times. Then use those creams I brought for you from Germany. The green one is a cucumber mask. Put it on your face and lie down and rest for twenty minutes. Then wash it off and smear on a good amount of the yellow cream. And be here at five so that I can fix you up and put on your make-up.'

‘Fix me up? I'm not a bride!'

‘Who knows, you may become one,' she said.

‘You should be ashamed of yourself! At my age?'

‘Age again? If you talk like this one more time, I swear to God I will beat you.'

‘What should I wear?' I asked.

‘The grey dress we bought together in Germany.'

‘No, that's an evening dress. It's not appropriate.'

‘You are right. Wear the beige two-piece. No! The rose-coloured shirt with the lighter-shade lace collar.'

‘Thanks,' I said. ‘I'll think of something myself.'

Even though I never had the patience for too much fussing, I pretty much followed all of Parvaneh's instructions. I was lying down with the green mask on my face when Shirin walked into my room.

‘What is going on?' she said surprised. ‘You are really pampering yourself today.'

‘Nothing is going on,' I replied casually. ‘Parvaneh insisted that I use this mask and I thought I would give it a try.'

She shrugged and walked out.

I started getting ready at three-thirty. I carefully blow-dried my hair, which I had already set in curlers. One by one, I carefully put on my clothes. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and thought, I weigh at least ten kilos more than I did back then… How strange that when I was skinny, my cheeks were plump, but now that I am heavier, my face is half as full as it used to be.

Every outfit I put on had something wrong with it. Soon, there was a heap of shirts, skirts and dresses on the bed. Shirin leaned against the door frame and asked, ‘Where are you going?'

‘To Parvaneh's house.'

‘All this fussing is for Aunt Parvaneh?'

‘She found a few of our old friends and she has invited them over. I don't want to look old and ugly.'

‘Aha!' she exclaimed. ‘So the rivalries of your younger days still continue.'

‘No, it's not rivalry. It's a strange feeling. Seeing each other will be like looking in the mirror after some thirty-odd years. I want us to still see some of what we looked like all those years ago; otherwise, we will be complete strangers to each other.'

‘How many are they?'

‘Who?'

‘Aunt Parvaneh's guests!'

I was flustered. I had always been a bad liar. I mumbled, ‘She found an old friend and the old friend will bring along whoever else she can find. So I don't know if there will be one person or ten people.'

‘You never talk about your old friends. What is her name?' Shirin asked.

‘Of course, I had friends and classmates, but I was never as close to them as I was to Parvaneh.'

‘It's so interesting,' she mused. ‘I can't imagine what my friends and I will look like thirty years from now. Think about it! We will be a bunch of doddering old people.'

I ignored her comment. I was trying to think of an excuse in case she said she wanted to go with me. But as usual, Shirin preferred to be with people her own age or even stay home alone rather than be in the company of ‘doddering old people'. In the end, I wore a chocolate-brown linen dress with a cinched-in waist and brown high-heeled sandals.

It was past five-thirty when I arrived at Parvaneh's house. She carefully appraised me from head to toe and said, ‘Not bad. Now come and let me fix the rest.'

‘Look, I don't want you to make me look gaudy and gussied up. I am what I am. After all, I have lived a life… and what a life it has been.'

‘You are beautiful just as you are,' Parvaneh said. ‘I will just add a touch of chocolate-brown eye shadow, a little eyeliner and a bit of mascara. And you should put on some lipstick. You don't need anything else. God bless you, your skin is still as smooth as a mirror.'

‘Yes, a cracked mirror.'

‘But the cracks don't really show. Besides, his eyes are weak. We can even sit inside where it's dark and he won't see much.'

‘Stop it!' I chided. ‘You sound like you are trying to pass off shoddy goods! We will sit outside in the garden.'

At exactly six o'clock, we both jumped at the sound of the doorbell.

‘I swear on my mother's life he has been standing outside for the past ten minutes waiting to ring the doorbell at six o'clock sharp,' Parvaneh said. ‘He is in a worse state than we are.'

She pressed the button on the intercom to open the main door and started towards the garden. Halfway, she stopped and looked back. I was still standing there. She waved to me to follow her, but I couldn't move. I watched through the window as Parvaneh led Saiid to the table and chairs in the garden. He was wearing a grey suit. He was a little heavier and his hair was salt and pepper. I couldn't see his face. A few minutes later, Parvaneh walked back inside and snapped, ‘Why are you still here? Don't tell me you want to walk out carrying the tea tray, like a bride-to-be!'

‘Stop it!' I pleaded. ‘My heart is about to burst out of my chest. My legs froze and I couldn't follow you.'

‘Oh, my poor little baby! Would you like to grace us with your presence now?'

‘No… wait!'

‘What do you mean? He asked if you are here and I said yes. It's rude, come on. Stop acting like a fourteen-year-old.'

‘Wait… let me get a grip on myself.'

‘Ugh! What am I supposed to tell him? That the lady has fainted!? It's impolite; he is sitting there alone.'

‘Tell him I am with your mother and that I will be right there. Oh my God! I didn't even say hello to your mother!' And I dashed towards her mother's bedroom…

I would have never believed that at my age I would feel that panicked. I always thought of myself as someone sensible and sedate, someone who had experienced life's ups and downs. Over the years, there had been many men who had expressed an interest in me, but not since my adolescence had I felt that nervous and flustered.

‘My dear Massoum, who is here?' Mrs Ahmadi asked.

‘One of Parvaneh's friends.'

‘Do you know her?'

‘Yes, yes, I met her in Germany.'

Just then I heard Parvaneh call out, ‘Massoum, my dear, come join us. Saiid Khan is here.'

I looked at myself in the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair. I think Mrs Ahmadi was still talking when I walked out of her bedroom. I knew I shouldn't allow myself time to think. I hurried out into the garden and in a voice that I was desperately trying to stop from shaking I said, ‘Hello!'

Saiid jumped out of his chair, stood up straight and stared at me. A few seconds later, he came to himself and gently said, ‘Hello!'

We exchanged a few casual greetings and soon sounded less nervous. Parvaneh went back inside to bring some tea and Saiid and I sat facing each other. Neither of us knew what to say. His face had aged, but the look in his fetching brown eyes was the same look I remembered and had felt weighing on my life for decades. Altogether, he seemed more settled and attractive. I was hoping he had the same impression of me. Parvaneh came back and we continued with routine bits of customary conversation. Gradually, our reunion became warmer and we asked him to tell us where he had been and what he had been doing all those years.

‘I will tell, if everyone tells…' he said.

‘I have nothing to tell,' Parvaneh said. ‘My life has been quite ordinary. After I graduated from school, I got married, had children and moved to Germany. I have two daughters and a son. I still live in Germany, but I spend a lot of time here because my mother is ill. If her health improves, I will take her there with me. That's it. You see, nothing interesting or exciting has happened in my life.' And then she pointed to me and said, ‘Unlike her.'

Saiid turned to me and said, ‘Then you should tell me about your life.'

I looked beseechingly at Parvaneh.

‘For the love of God, don't say anything!' she said. Then she turned to Saiid and explained, ‘Her life story could fill a book. If she starts now, she won't be done until well after midnight. Besides, I know it all and it will be boring for me to hear the entire story again. Instead, you should tell us about yourself.'

‘I graduated from university a little later than expected,' Saiid said. ‘And I was exempt from military service, because my father had passed away and I was my mother's only son and considered to be the head of the household. After university, I returned to Rezaieh and with the help of my uncles I opened a pharmacy. Our circumstances improved, the value of my father's properties increased, I helped my sisters get married, and then I sold the pharmacy and moved back to Tehran with my mother. A few of my old classmates had decided to start a pharmaceuticals importing company and I joined them as a partner. Our business grew and we started manufacturing cosmetics and healthcare products as well.

‘My mother kept insisting that I take a wife. I finally gave in and married Nazy who was the sister of one of my partners and had just finished school. Eventually, we had children, twins, a pair of mischief-makers. It was so difficult raising them that I decided I didn't want any more kids. After the revolution, everything was a mess and the future of the company was unclear. When war broke out, our prospects became even more uncertain. Nazy's entire family was leaving the country and she got it into her head that we should leave as well. The borders were closed, but she insisted that we leave illegally. Still, I resisted for two years until the situation improved. By then my mother was gravely ill; I think the sorrow of knowing that I would soon leave Iran hastened her death. I was terribly depressed. I sold everything we had. The only wise thing I did was that I kept my shares in the company. We first went to Austria; Nazy's other brother was living there. And we stayed until we had the necessary documents to go to America.

‘Starting from zero was difficult. Regardless, we stayed and settled down. The children were happy. It took only a couple of years for them to become completely American. Nazy wanted to improve her English, so she forbade us from talking Persian at home. As a result, the boys almost entirely forgot their mother tongue. I worked morning till night and we had a comfortable life. I had everything except happiness. I missed my sisters, my friends, Tehran and Rezaieh. Nazy had her family and friends around her and my children were happy with their friends at school and in the neighbourhood, but they were living in a world that I had never experienced and knew nothing about. I felt alone and alienated.

‘When the war ended, I heard that the situation here had improved and a lot of people were coming back. So I came, too. The company was still in business and the market wasn't all that bad. I returned to work. I felt much better and was in good spirits. Soon, I bought an apartment and went to bring back Nazy, but she wasn't willing to return. She had the perfect excuse, the kids… Well, she was right. It was no longer possible to tear them away from a culture they had blended into. In the end, we decided that because I could make more money in Iran, I would stay here and work, and Nazy would stay there until the boys grew up. This is how our life has been for the past six or seven years. Now, the children have grown up and moved to different states, but Nazy still has no intention of coming back to Iran. Once a year, I go to see them for a few months… the rest is loneliness and work. I know it's not a healthy life, but I haven't done anything to change it.'

Parvaneh was kicking me under the table and looking at Saiid with a mischievous, scarcely concealed smile that I knew all too well. But I felt sad for him. I had always hoped that at least he would end up happy, but it seemed he was lonelier than me.

‘Well, it's your turn now,' he said looking at me.

I told him about my rushed marriage to Hamid, his kindness, his political activities, his years in prison and his execution. I talked about my work, about going to university and about all that I had suffered because of my children. Then I told him about the recent years, about my children who had settled down and about my own life that was finally almost quiet. We talked like three dear friends who had come together again after many years, and we forgot the hours passing.

The sound of the telephone ringing made us jump. Parvaneh went to answer it. A few seconds later, she called out, ‘It's Shirin. She says it's ten o'clock!'

‘Where are you, Mum?' Shirin said angrily. ‘It seems you are having a really good time. I got worried.'

‘It's all right if for once you are the one who is worried,' I said. ‘We were busy talking and lost track of time.'

As we were leaving, Saiid said, ‘I will drive you home.'

‘No, she has her own car,' Parvaneh said with her usual brashness. ‘You are not allowed to talk without me present.'

Saiid laughed out loud and I glowered at Parvaneh.

‘What? Why are you glaring at me again?' she said. ‘Well, I want to know what you two talk about… You see, Saiid Khan? She hasn't changed a bit. When we were kids, she was always saying, “Don't say this, it's rude; don't do that, it's improper.” Fifty years later, she is still doing the same thing.'