Darius the Great Deserves Better - Adib Khorram Page 0,13
the feeling they actually liked us.
They lived in Bend, which was three hours away, but we only saw them a few times a year: birthdays and, for some weird reason, Easter. (Like Dad, Grandma and Oma were secular humanists, but Easter brunch was still a favorite meal for them.)
I couldn’t remember a time where I didn’t know my grandmothers were queer. Even before I figured that out about myself, they were just part of the fabric of my life.
Well, maybe they were the trim on the fabric of my life: forever on the edges, an embellishment you might notice if you’re looking for it.
I thought, when I told them I was gay, it might bring us closer.
That we could share this thing that set us apart from everyone else.
That they would talk about when Oma came out.
That they would tell me about the history I was too young to witness going on around me: Prop 8, and Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and the fight for marriage equality.
But all Grandma said was “I thought you might be,” and all Oma said was “We love you just the same,” and then we drank our tea in silence like always.
I didn’t know what I’d done to make my grandmas so disinterested in me.
And it wasn’t like they were any more interested in Laleh, which was strange, because everyone liked Laleh.
Even Babou adored Laleh at first sight, and he didn’t like anyone until he’d warmed up to them.
In fact, the only thing my grandmothers and I had in common were tea and soccer.
They were almost excited when I told them I had made Chapel Hill High School’s varsity men’s soccer team.
Almost.
“We’ll have to come see a game,” Grandma had said.
“If you make it to the championships, for sure,” Oma had added.
I didn’t know how to feel about that: their excitement being conditional on us winning.
I was on the team because it was fun, because I liked my teammates, and I liked Coach Bentley.
I didn’t know if I had it in me to be a winner.
* * *
“It’ll be nice to see them, huh?” Dad said.
His fingers kept drumming against me, like I was a console on the bridge of a starship, and he was trying to plot a course through some kind of unstable stellar phenomenon.
To be honest, I never got the feeling Grandma and Oma actually liked Dad either.
I don’t know why I thought that.
It was an awful thing to think.
So I said, “Yeah.”
They were coming to help us out. To help Mom be less tired.
To give Dad a chance to breathe.
“Yeah,” I said again.
And I tried to mean it.
JUST HYPERBOLE
It was still dark out when I got back from my morning run, just in time to say bye to Mom as she pulled out of the driveway.
“Hey,” she said out the window. “Will you check on your dad after you shower? He’s sleeping in a little.”
Dad never slept in.
“Okay.”
Mom gave me a sad smile. “See you tonight.”
I swallowed away the lump in my throat.
I hated seeing my parents so tired.
“Yeah.”
I showered and packed my soccer bag, and tucked my curl cream in too. I’d be seeing Landon after practice and wanted to look nice. I knocked on Dad’s door, but he hollered he was up and getting ready.
And then, since I hadn’t heard from Sohrab in three days, I sat down and tried him again.
This time he answered right away.
“Eh! Hello Darioush.”
“Hey! Chetori toh?”
I didn’t speak much Farsi, but what few words I could say—heavy with my American accent—I felt okay practicing with Sohrab, who never criticized my pronunciation.
Sohrab let out a dramatic sigh. “Darioush. Have I ever told you about my Ameh Mona?”
“I don’t think so.”
“She lives in Manshad. You know Manshad?”
I shook my head.
“It’s across the mountains from Yazd. It’s very beautiful. But it’s a long drive.” Sohrab glanced behind him and hollered something to his mom.
“Maman says hi.”
“Oh. Tell her hi too?”
Sohrab shouted back at his mom.
“Anyway. Ameh Mona broke her leg.”
“What happened?”
“She tripped over her cat.”
“She what?”
Sohrab shook his head, and then he snorted.
“She tripped over her cat.” He snorted again. The snort turned into a chuckle.
And then his eyes crinkled up and he started laughing. He laughed so hard it made me start laughing too, even though tripping over a cat and breaking your leg sounded awful. I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.
But eventually the laughter petered out, and Sohrab said, “We hadn’t seen her in a long time.”