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Authors: Leylah Attar

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BOOK: 53 Letters For My Lover
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“We’ll toss a coin,” says Baba. “Hossein, get my wallet from the car.”

“We don’t need a coin. We have these.” Marjaneh’s father,
Amu
Reza, pointed to the pebbles on the ground. “We’ll use two—black and white. Black means stay, white means go.”

“You’re older,” Marjaneh said to me. “It’s only fair you get to pick.”

Everyone gathered around, laughing and talking. I was the only one who saw
Amu
Reza get the pebbles from the ground. He chose two black ones. It didn’t matter which one I picked. He had just made sure his daughter would be the one to go.

Amu
Reza closed his palm over the stones and held his hands out.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Pick one.”

Calling him out would humiliate him before everyone, and a man’s honor is his everything. So I took a deep breath and tapped his right hand. As he went to turn it over, I lurched forward, knocking it off his palm. It fell and mingled with the other pebbles on the ground.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s all right. We’ll try again.”
Amu
Reza reached for another pebble.

“There’s no need,” I said. “Just look at the one in your hand and you’ll know which one I picked.”

Amu
Reza’s eyes narrowed. He knew I knew. We stared at each other for a moment.

Then he turned his other palm over.

“It’s black!” exclaimed Baba. “That means Shayda picked the white pebble.”

“Congratulations.”
Amu
Reza looked at me with grudging respect.

“I’m happy for you.” Marjaneh hugged me.

And now here she
is, struggling to make ends meet. When Maamaan told me she was marrying Hossein, I had felt relief. She was going to make it to Canada after all. How different would her life have been, had I let
Amu
Reza play out his plan that day? How different would mine?

I get in the car and glance at the clock. I don’t have to pick up the kids for a while. I take the highway and find myself at the park Troy took me to. The golden leaves are gone, turned colorless and brittle under my feet. I sit on the bench, staring at the reflection of cold sky and bare branches.

My watch beeps. Remembrance Day. I had set it for 11:00 a.m. I close my eyes to pay a silent tribute to all those who fell for the freedoms I have today, but all I see is a red butterfly, a blue sky, a valley on fire.

My mind keeps going back to Troy.

Somewhere in the fabric of all these years, our lives got tangled, like unruly threads pulling and snagging into impossible knots. How could we have known that one night would stay with us so long?

11. Fireworks

PAST

July 1st, 1983

“That was delicious,” I
said as I cleared the dishes. “Jayne did such a great job of setting the table.”

“She’s quite the little party planner, isn’t she?” Elizabeth smiled.

We stood back to admire her work. Even with the dirty plates and messy napkins, the Canada Day set-up looked beautiful. Place cards, held by pine cones, now rolled over like sated guests on the red table cloth. A white table runner accentuated wine bottles holding bright gerberas, and the walls were decked out with red and white checkered banners on twine.

I bit into one of the maple-leaf sugar cookies and grimaced. “If only she baked as well.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I can’t get her to step foot in the kitchen, but maybe she’ll listen to you.”

“Why cook when you can have it catered?” Jayne joined us in the kitchen. “You don’t think the cookies will impress?”

We shook our heads.

“The cupcakes?”

Elizabeth and I exchanged dubious looks.

Jane hopped on the counter and dangled her feet wistfully. “How am I ever going to get him to notice me?”

“Jayne,” said her mother, “are you still trying to get Troy’s attention?”

“There’s no point,” Jayne replied. “He thinks I’m just a kid. He dates cheerleaders and models. What chance do I have?”

“He’s dating his age. And so should you. There are plenty of nice guys that you keep turning down.”

“I don’t want a
nice
guy.”

“Now you listen to me, young lady. Troy might have somewhat of a reputation, but even
he
knows that you’re out of bounds. So unless you want to get your heart broken, you’d best stop daydreaming.”

Jayne pouted. “Can I at least go watch the fireworks with them tonight?”

“Who’s going?” asked Elizabeth.

“Ryan, Ellen and Troy.”

“Ryan and Ellen are a couple. Please tell me you’re not thinking of this as double date with Troy.”

“Mum!”

“You are!” Elizabeth shook her head and looked at me with a face that could only belong to mothers of teenaged daughters.

“What if Shayda comes with us?” asked Jayne. “It won’t be a double date then, right?”

“I’m sure Shayda has other plans.”

“No, she doesn’t,” replied Jayne. “Hafez isn’t back until Sunday.”

Elizabeth turned to me. “Have you ever been to the Canada Day fireworks at Ashbridges Bay?”

“No. I was going to catch it on TV.”

“It’s not the same. Bob and I stopped going because of the crowds, but you should go. If not this year, then next summer.”

“Oh come! It’ll be fun!” Jayne jumped off the counter. “Please, Shayda? Mum will let me go if you go, won’t you?”

“Quit putting Shayda on the spot.” Elizabeth opened the fridge and started stowing away the leftovers.

Behind her, Jayne clasped her hands.

‘Please, Please, PLEASE,’ she mouthed.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

“Yeahhh!” Jayne threw her arms around me. “I love you, I love you, I loooove you!”

I laughed, but it came out funny—embarrassed and awkward, and a little overwhelmed by the show of affection.

“Why don’t the two of you go sit with Bob and Ryan?” I said. “I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“Are you sure?” asked Elizabeth.

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks, Shayda.”

Jayne watched her mother join the men in the backyard.

“Let me know when Troy gets here.” She winked, before skipping out in her sassy denim shorts and crop top.

She was showing a lot of skin lately. Then again, it was her first adolescent crush and there was no stopping her. I admired her exuberance, the way she ran out to meet the world, expecting it to unravel to her dreams.

I put away last pot and reached for the sliding door, stopping to smile at the scene before me. Ryan was chasing Jayne with a hose. She screamed and threw her flip-flops at him. The first one missed; the second smacked Ryan square in the jaw.

“Ohhhh, you’re in for it now,” he yelled.

Jayne ducked behind Bob’s lounger.

“Shit!” said Ryan as he soaked his father instead.

Now it was Bob vs. Ryan.

“Cut it out.” Elizabeth waved her arms at them. “Why can’t we ever sit like a normal family and enjoy some quiet time together?”

The other three grinned and ganged up on her as she ran screaming to the other side of the pool. I couldn’t tell what happened next because everything turned blurry. My palm rested on the air-conditioned glass, looking out at four happy figurines come to life.

I averted my gaze, focusing on the trees instead. If they hadn’t been so dark and lush I might have missed it—a pair of eyes staring back at me in the reflection—a bright, brilliant blue, like the sky peeking through the leaves. Troy’s silhouette was mirrored in the glass, standing behind me, but it was too late to hide my face. I dared not breathe or the tears that trembled on the edges of my lashes would fall.

The clouds moved and the leaves swayed, but on our side of that door, everything froze. I felt like a raw, exposed specimen under a microscope. But instead of cold, hard speculation, I found something else in his eyes, something unexpectedly overwhelming. I jerked away from the door, but he pinned my hand to the glass. His fingers covered mine, grounding me in an instinctual gesture of comfort.

For a moment, I fought against the disarming tenderness of a stranger, the shame of being caught in a moment of weakness. Then his arms circled my waist, pulling me away from the door, from whatever heartache he had witnessed in my reflection. The fight drained out of me. I turned into the shelter of his embrace, and he, not knowing, not asking, took me in.

Something changed in that instant. For me. For him. Like when the sun and moon align and day turns to night. They finally see each other’s faces and hang, transfixed, even as their eclipse throws everything else into darkness. For those fleeting moments, everything made sense—the pattern behind the random trajectory of life, the infinite order beneath chaos.

I felt the warmth of sun-soaked soil under my feet, the joy of weaving through thorny lemon trees and chasing clouds of butterflies among spring blossoms. I felt like I was home again.

A loud splash jarred us back to reality.

I broke away, feeling like a star unfastened from the sky.

“I’m gonna get you!” We heard Ryan shouting from the pool.

Jayne shrieked and ran towards the house.

“Troy!” She stopped when she saw him, and slid the door open.

“Hi, Jayne.” He stepped between me and her, allowing me a moment to pull myself together. “You guys ever lock your front door?”

“We’ve been expecting you.” She hugged him, and held on until he unlinked her arms from around his neck.

“We?”

“I’m going too!” She grinned. “And Shayda.”

“I see.” He looked at me and then back at Jayne. “Is Ryan ready to go?”

“He needs to dry off. I got him good.” She smirked.

“I’ll let him know I’m here. In the meantime, why don’t you go change?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Bugs,” he said without blinking. “We’re going to be near the water. You better cover up.”

“Fiiine.” She sighed and stomped off, her pony tail swinging haughtily behind her.

Her absence left a hole that sucked up all the air in the room.

“I’m afraid I’m not dressed appropriately either.” I tried to dispel the electric buzzing between us with small talk.

“You’re fine. Exactly as you are,” he replied, without taking his eyes off my face.

I smoothed my dress, feeling flush under his unwavering gaze.

“Hey.” Ryan sauntered in, toweling his hair, oblivious to the tension he was cutting through.

“Is that you, Troy?” Bob asked from the backyard. “You kids better get going if you plan on making it.”

“Soon as I change,” replied Ryan, heading for his room.

“Don’t stay out too late, you hear?” said Elizabeth.

“Yes, Ma.” Jayne stepped out in a demure button-down blouse and jeans. “Come on!” She linked her arm with mine. “Before she changes her mind.”

We picked Ellen up
on the way. With her cinnamon hair and warm smile, it was easy to see why Ryan was smitten. Their exchange was hot and flirty. I kept my eyes on an imaginary spot on the window, looking out as the sky darkened to a deep indigo.

We came to a crawling halt when we got to the lake. Pedestrians weaved between the stalled traffic; cars turned away from big, bold ‘LOT FULL’ signs.

“We’ll never make it in time,” said Ryan.

“Never say never.” Troy steered us into a gas station. “We can walk it from here.”

“They’ll tow your car!” said Jayne.

“I’ll go ask.” He walked into the store, spinning his keys.

A few minutes later, he was back out. “Okay guys. We’re good to go.”

A middle-aged woman in a blue vest waved at us through the window.

“This one.” Ellen laughed. “He can charm his way through anything.”

We crossed the street to the beach, where people were already camped out on thick blankets, waiting for the show to begin. The smell of the lake mingled with hot dogs and fizzled-out sparklers. I trailed behind Jayne, wishing I had worn my flats. The boardwalk proved impossible in my kitten heels, so I stopped to remove them. The place looked different at night, but I was momentarily transported to another time. This was the spot I had come to the day I met Hafez. I closed my eyes, thinking of that young couple, of a time when possibilities were endless and whole worlds lay around the bend in the road.

When I opened them again, there was no sign of Jayne or the rest of the group. I stuffed my shoes in my bag, wishing I’d asked about a meeting point.

I was wandering aimlessly when an iron grip circled my wrist, spinning me around, into the solid wall of Troy’s chest. I could feel his muscles tense as he braced me against the streams of people passing us by.

“Are you all right?”

I struggled to throttle the dizzy current racing through my veins. He had come back. He had picked me out from the vague mass of night shadows.

“You found me,” I whispered.

“Of course.” Like anything else was unimaginable.

At night, his eyes blazed like summer lightning. I felt something flutter inside me, something I thought was long dead. He took my hand and led me away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place,” he replied, cutting across the parking lot.

“What about the others?” I followed him past rows of tightly packed cars, into a residential alley.

BOOK: 53 Letters For My Lover
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