I wondered if I would ever get used to the temporal displacement.
I wondered when Sohrab was going to show up.
I put the jam back in the refrigerator and grabbed a glass. Mamou didn’t keep her glassware in the cupboard: She kept it upside down in a drawer to the left of the sink, which I thought was an interesting way to store glasses.
I grabbed the pitcher of filtered water and opened up my meds.
“Darioush. What are you doing?”
Babou had emerged from his room, dressed in another pair of creased dress pants and a blue button-up.
I dribbled some water down the front of my shirt as I swallowed. “Taking my medicine.”
“Medicine?” He set his cup in the sink and picked up one of my pill bottles. “What is this for? Are you sick?”
“Depression,” I said. I refilled my glass and took another gulp so I wouldn’t have to look at Babou. I could sense the disappointment radiating off him.
I never expected Ardeshir Bahrami to have so much in common with his son-in-law.
“What are you depressed for?” He shook the pill bottle. “You have to think positive, baba. Medicine is for old people. Like me.”
“It’s just the way I am,” I squeaked.
I would never be good enough for Ardeshir Bahrami.
“You just have to try harder, Darioush-jan. Those will not fix anything.” He glanced at the table. “Did you have enough to eat?”
“Um. I... yeah.”
“Good.” Babou poured himself a cup of tea and sat down at the table with a bowl of tokhmeh. “When is Sohrab coming?”
“Soon. I think.”
“Do you play football in America?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sohrab is very good. He plays most days.” Babou spat out a shell onto his plate. “It’s good you met him. I knew you would be friends.”
“Um.”
I didn’t know how Babou could know that.
He was right, of course.
But how could he be so certain?
I nearly jumped out of my chair when someone finally knocked on the front door.
“Hey,” I said.
Sohrab squinted at me. “Hi, Darioush. Ready to go?”
I knelt and pulled my Vans on. “Ready.”
“Do you have a kit?” Sohrab held up his red nylon bag, the kind with draw-strings that doubled as straps to make it into a sort of backpack.
I shook my head. I had failed to anticipate the need for soccer/non-American football gear when I packed.
