didn’t work out as she hoped. And at twenty-one, no romance was likely to be forever. The last thing Annie wanted for her was to see her get hurt or even disappointed. She would have liked to keep her in a cocoon and protect her for the rest of her life.
“He’s a nice boy,” Annie said cautiously, not sure what else to say to someone who looked like she was floating on a cloud. “He has beautiful manners, he’s intelligent, and he’s very good looking, and he seems like a nice person.”
“He’s a wonderful person,” Katie said, instantly defending him, as though she thought she had to.
“I’m sure he is,” Annie said quietly, venturing into dangerous waters. “But he comes from a very different culture. It’s something for you to consider.” Katie glared at her with instant hostility in answer, ready to go to war, which was what Annie was afraid of. She didn’t want to lose her yet to, or over, this boy or any other. Nothing was worth that.
“What difference does it make? He’s American. He lives in New York, and he’s not going back to Iran, except to visit. His life is here, just like mine.”
“That’s good. But he may have different ideas than you do. His family isn’t American, or his relatives in Iran. I know you don’t think so, but that makes a difference. If you married him, how would you raise your children? What would he or his family expect of you? You’d always feel like an outsider or a foreigner. Katie, if you’re serious about him, you have to think about that. You come from different backgrounds. It worries me for you.” Annie was as honest with her as she could be in voicing her concerns.
“I can’t believe how bigoted you are. What bothers you? That his skin is darker than mine? Who fucking cares?”
“Of course not. But I’m concerned that his ideas are different than ours, maybe too different. His parents may think so too, about you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Katie said with a look of youthful contempt. “You don’t even have a man in your life. You never have. You live like some kind of nun, for chrissake. What do you know about loving someone and building a life with them?”
“Not much,” Annie admitted with tears in her eyes. Katie had hit hard, and low. “I just want you to understand what you might be headed for. It’s true for any relationship. Backgrounds, family customs, and traditions do matter between two people, even if they love each other. I just want what’s best for you.” She didn’t respond to the rest of what Katie had said. She didn’t say that she had lived like a nun because she raised three kids at twenty-six, and the man she’d been in love with at the time had dumped her because she had taken on three children who weren’t her own, or that she hadn’t had time to take anyone seriously since, because she was too busy driving carpool and going to the orthodontist and soccer games. She said none of that and focused the conversation on Katie and Paul, where it belonged.
“I’ll do what seems right to me,” Katie said, staring at her in fury, and Annie nodded, remembering Whitney’s warnings to her an hour before, that it was their lives and they had a right to make their own mistakes and she had to let go. She was trying, but it was hard. And who knew if her relationship with Paul was a mistake? Maybe it wasn’t.
“I love you, Katie,” Annie said quietly in response, and with that Katie stormed out of her room and slammed the door. All Annie wanted for her was a good life.
Annie lay in her bed that night, thinking about Katie and what they’d said. And she wondered if she was wrong. Maybe she had no right to say anything. Paul seemed like a good person, maybe that was enough. Maybe coming from two different cultures didn’t matter and she was wrong. What right did she have to tell Katie who to love and how to live? Maybe Katie would be happy with him. Who was she to judge? And Katie was right about some of it.
“He’s a nice boy,” Annie said cautiously, not sure what else to say to someone who looked like she was floating on a cloud. “He has beautiful manners, he’s intelligent, and he’s very good looking, and he seems like a nice person.”
“He’s a wonderful person,” Katie said, instantly defending him, as though she thought she had to.
“I’m sure he is,” Annie said quietly, venturing into dangerous waters. “But he comes from a very different culture. It’s something for you to consider.” Katie glared at her with instant hostility in answer, ready to go to war, which was what Annie was afraid of. She didn’t want to lose her yet to, or over, this boy or any other. Nothing was worth that.
“What difference does it make? He’s American. He lives in New York, and he’s not going back to Iran, except to visit. His life is here, just like mine.”
“That’s good. But he may have different ideas than you do. His family isn’t American, or his relatives in Iran. I know you don’t think so, but that makes a difference. If you married him, how would you raise your children? What would he or his family expect of you? You’d always feel like an outsider or a foreigner. Katie, if you’re serious about him, you have to think about that. You come from different backgrounds. It worries me for you.” Annie was as honest with her as she could be in voicing her concerns.
“I can’t believe how bigoted you are. What bothers you? That his skin is darker than mine? Who fucking cares?”
“Of course not. But I’m concerned that his ideas are different than ours, maybe too different. His parents may think so too, about you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Katie said with a look of youthful contempt. “You don’t even have a man in your life. You never have. You live like some kind of nun, for chrissake. What do you know about loving someone and building a life with them?”
“Not much,” Annie admitted with tears in her eyes. Katie had hit hard, and low. “I just want you to understand what you might be headed for. It’s true for any relationship. Backgrounds, family customs, and traditions do matter between two people, even if they love each other. I just want what’s best for you.” She didn’t respond to the rest of what Katie had said. She didn’t say that she had lived like a nun because she raised three kids at twenty-six, and the man she’d been in love with at the time had dumped her because she had taken on three children who weren’t her own, or that she hadn’t had time to take anyone seriously since, because she was too busy driving carpool and going to the orthodontist and soccer games. She said none of that and focused the conversation on Katie and Paul, where it belonged.
“I’ll do what seems right to me,” Katie said, staring at her in fury, and Annie nodded, remembering Whitney’s warnings to her an hour before, that it was their lives and they had a right to make their own mistakes and she had to let go. She was trying, but it was hard. And who knew if her relationship with Paul was a mistake? Maybe it wasn’t.
“I love you, Katie,” Annie said quietly in response, and with that Katie stormed out of her room and slammed the door. All Annie wanted for her was a good life.
Annie lay in her bed that night, thinking about Katie and what they’d said. And she wondered if she was wrong. Maybe she had no right to say anything. Paul seemed like a good person, maybe that was enough. Maybe coming from two different cultures didn’t matter and she was wrong. What right did she have to tell Katie who to love and how to live? Maybe Katie would be happy with him. Who was she to judge? And Katie was right about some of it.
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