“And smart. And brave.”
“I’m not really.”
“I think you are.” I nodded to myself. “But I need you to be my friend first. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Hi, Darioush-jan!” Mamou said when I called. “I miss you!”
“I miss you too.”
“How are you doing?”
“Okay. A little sad. We lost our soccer game. It was playoffs.”
“I’m sorry. I know you played your hardest.”
“I quit my job too.”
“Your mom told me.”
As if summoned, Mom appeared in my doorway. She hung back, though.
“Um,” I said, and glanced to Mom and back at my screen. “I talked to Sohrab.”
“I’m so happy!” Mamou’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, maman.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“Maybe he can come to Portland someday.”
“That would be amazing.” I cleared my throat. “How are you doing?”
Mamou sighed. “You know. Every day is different. Sometimes sad. Sometimes mad. Sometimes I forget.”
“Me too.”
“Sometimes I think of something and turn to tell him. But he’s not there.”
There were things I wanted to tell Babou too. It was too late for that.
But I knew I had to tell Mamou.
My sternum tightened.
“Mamou? Can I tell you something?”
“Of course, Darioush-jan.”
“I... I’m gay.”
“Eh? Gay?”
Mom stepped closer and rested her hand on my head. She played with my hair and said something in Farsi. I chewed on my lips and waited for the fallout.
“Oh!” Mamou said. “Gay. I’m glad you told me, maman. Because I love all of you.”
My chest relaxed.
