Together Tea by Marjan Kamali Page B

no need to thank her, they’d do their best.
    Mina pretended Aunt Nikki was right to be so hopeful. Never mind that Darya hadn’t been able to talk sense into Hooman’s skull.
    MINA AND KAYVON RAN TO OPEN the door to find Uncle Hamed standing there, hat in hand, his face weary. Aunt Nikki was still by the car, talking to the closed windows in a coaxing voice. After several minutes, Cousin Reza came out of the car. He looked taller than when Mina had seen him last. Though he was only sixteen, a little stubble had grown on his chin.
    â€œCome, let me see you!” Darya rushed to give her nephew a kiss. But he shrank away from her.
    A woman in a black chador followed Reza into the house.
    â€œSay hello, Maryam,” Aunt Nikki said.
    Mina and Kayvon nudged each other. This was their glamorous eighteen-year-old cousin who only a few months ago had been giggling and flirting with the greengrocer’s son? This was the Maryam who had worn high heels and tight blue jeans, her eyelids green from sparkly eye shadow? Mina stared at the new cousin in front of her.
    â€œTea?” Darya almost shouted, as though Maryam were hard of hearing because of her cover-up.
    Mina and Kayvon scrambled to go help in the kitchen. When Mina came back balancing a tray of hourglass-shaped estekan filled with dark chai, she saw that Darya had plopped herself next to Maryam and was talking and laughing and gesturing wildly. Maryam was nodding politely, the way one nods at an older person who is losing her mind.
    Baba methodically asked Reza about his studies. “I remember,” Baba said, “when you were four years old and you’d beg me to put you up on my shoulders. Remember that? Remember we’d play hide-and-seek outside?”
    Reza scowled.
    At dinner, Maryam ate with one hand, grasping her chador tightly with the other.
    â€œMaryam Joon, I told you already, while I respect that you are now a devout follower, we’re all family here, you really don’t need to cover your hair from family. You know that, don’t you?” Darya’s façade of good cheer was disappearing.
    Aunt Nikki looked as if she might cry. Maryam loosened her chador a tiny bit. Reza growled about the deaths caused in prisons by the Shah. Hooman listened raptly to Reza’s words. Darya’s vein throbbed in her forehead. Baba kept asking Uncle Hamed if he wanted more wine, but in a half-whisper, when Reza wasn’t looking.
    When it was time to kiss the guests good-bye, Maryam hugged them all, but Reza didn’t want to be touched. “But we’re family ,” Darya insisted. Reza angrily said good-bye and then marched off to the car.
    From behind the living room curtains, Mina saw Maryam walk to the car door and lift the bottom of her chador ever so slightly before climbing in, like Cinderella with her ball gown. Uncle Hamed and Aunt Nikki waved from the front seat with apologetic smiles. They drove off with Maryam and Reza expressionless in the backseat.
    Mina and her family stood in the doorway, waving as the car drove away.
    â€œThat was . . .” Baba sighed. “A pumpkin stew I won’t forget.”
    Hooman continued to look at the street, spellbound. “Reza said that if we are relentless in our demands, we can get revenge on . . .”
    Suddenly Darya took Hooman’s face in both her hands. “Listen. Khoob goosh kon. Listen well. I am your mother. You got that? You listen to me . The picture comes down. Basseh! Enough! Go brush your teeth. Go put on your pajamas. Go on, then!”
    Hooman was quiet. Mina thought he almost looked scared.
    â€œGo!”
    Hooman walked toward his bedroom.
    â€œPut your pajamas on and brush your teeth!” Darya yelled out after him.
    Hooman pulled off his sweater as he walked.
    â€œThat’s right! Go get ready for bed! I am your mother!! I’m sick of this chart-o-part nonsense!”
    Mina heard the faucet turn on in the