David gasped. “First off, we need to have a serious talk about dubs versus subs.”
“Verses? Subs?” Farzan teased. “Sounds kinky.”
David shot Farzan a fleeting side-eye before turning back to the road.
“As I was saying… Second,Princess MononokeoverSpirited Away? That’s slander.”
“Okay, listen, I loveSpirited Away, and I know it won an Oscar and everything, but I thinkPrincess Mononokemost powerfully captures the environmentalism, spirituality,andcoming-of-age themes that make Studio Ghibli so powerful, andSpirited Awaydoes the second two exquisitely but not the first.”
“You don’t think the whole river-polluted-by-junk was environmental enough?”
“I didn’t say it didn’t do them, I just think that was a bit overly simplistic compared toMononoke…”
David kept up a lively argument as they drove, sometimes making good points, sometimes clearly arguing just for the sake of getting Farzan riled up, and sometimes only trying to make Farzan laugh. But before Farzan knew it, David’s phone interrupted the music to announce that their destination was on the right.
“Should I pull into the driveway or stay on the street?”
“Street,” Farzan said. “Unless you like taking your life into your own hands.”
“All right…” David said, pulling up in front of Maheen’s house. As Farzan got out, cradling the sholezard, David grabbed a little wine tote from the back, filled with six bottles.
Farzan blinked. That was a lot of wine for the eight of them.
“Don’t worry, I don’t expect us to drink it all. I wasn’t sure what everyone liked. Plus what if I only brought one and it was corked?”
“I promise you, my family wouldn’t notice if it tasted like a handful of coins.”
“Ugh, handful of coins? That’s a good one.”
Farzan chuckled and led David toward the door, pointing out the driveway to their left, which sloped steeply downward before turning into the house’s basement garage.
“Oh damn,” David said. “That must be fun in the winter.”
“I don’t know how they do it.”
Farzan paused in front of the door, his hands full. Sure, he could’ve shifted the sholezard to just one hand so he could ring the doorbell, but now that he was here, his heart was in his throat. Not because of David—how could anyone not like David?—but because this was how he always felt at family gatherings. Like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
No, not just a shoe. For the sky to open up and rain down loafers upon him, like the newscaster from the Muppets.
And he knew it made no sense. He loved his family with his whole heart. And he knew his family loved him. He knew if he ever needed anything—anything—a hundred pairs of hands would be ready and waiting to offer it.
But if comparison was the thief of joy, then the Alavi family was full of master thieves.
David rested a hand on his lower back. He stepped closer, wrapping Farzan in his scent and warmth, and Farzan’s shoulders unhitched.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
thirty-eight
David
Both of David’s parents were loud and opinionated, as were his aunties and uncles. Many a holiday gathering had left David convinced he was going to suffer permanent hearing loss. He’d even contemplated ear plugs, but so far all the ones he’d found were bright orange and way too likely to stand out.
The Alavi family could put the Curtises to shame.
As soon as the door swung open, a wall of noise slammed against him. Persian music—he recognized the syncopated beat from Shiraz Bistro—provided background to a host of loud voices arguing, in both English and Persian, and no one seemed to notice the two new guests.
Farzan turned back with a small smile and awhat can you doshrug. Despite the trepidation he’d shown outside, he seemed genuinely happy to see his family.
