She sighed. “I am doing okay, maman. You know, it’s hard.”
“Yeah.”
“I miss you. I wish you could come visit again.”
“Me too.”
At that I think I did start crying. Just a little.
“Is Dayi Jamsheed around? Or Sohrab?”
I hated the thought of Mamou being alone in that house.
And, I thought maybe Sohrab was there.
“No. Just me. Zandayi Simin is coming later to make ab goosht. You know ab goosht?”
“Yeah.”
Ab gooshtmore or less translates to “meat water.” But it’s actually a stew, made from meat braised until it falls off the bone, and eaten with crusty bread.
“You know, it was Babou’s favorite.”
I sniffed.
“How are you doing, Darioush-jan? How’s school? How’s soccer? How’s your job? How’s your dad? Your mom?”
“Um. They’re okay. Everyone’s doing okay.” I couldn’t tell her about how Mom was tired. Or how Dad was depressed. Or how I was beginning to hate going into work.
I had to pretend like everything was okay here, because I knew that it wasn’t over there.
“Hey, Mamou?”
“Yes?”
“You haven’t seen Sohrab lately, have you?”
Mamou looked off to the side.
“It’s just, I haven’t heard from him in a while.”
And I needed him.
I hated how selfish I was.
But I needed my best friend.
“You know, he is very busy right now. With school. And his mom.”
“Oh.”
“I will tell him you called. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“It was nice talking to you, Darioush-jan.” Mamou’s voice was different. Higher.
I didn’t know what was happening.
