The Sometimes Daughter

by Sherri Wood Emmons

“Yeah,” I said, pulling back from Mama and wiping the back of my hand across my eyes. “It’s good.”

  Mama smiled at Daddy and then at me, then kissed my cheek again.

  “I’ll see you soon, my sweet girl. Real soon, okay?”

  I nodded and tried to smile as she walked down the steps toward the car where Navid was waiting. Then I followed Daddy back into the house.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, watching me closely.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “She said she loves me.”

  I sat down on the couch and he sat beside me.

  “Of course she loves you. Didn’t you know that?” He took my hand in his and held it for a minute.

  “I guess so.”

  “Do you want some tea?” he asked.

  “Okay.

  “Daddy?” I said as he rose.

  “Yes, Judy?”

  “I want to go to the wedding.”

  He stood a minute just looking at me, then he smiled and nodded.

  “Okay, honey. If you want to go to your mom’s wedding, then we’ll go.”

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling at him.

  “And, Daddy?”

  He turned to look at me again.

  “I love you.”

  21

  “Judy, are you ready? We’ve got to go or we’ll miss our flight,” Daddy hollered from downstairs.

  “I can’t get my suitcase closed,” I yelled back, staring hopelessly at the overstuffed bag on my bed.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Daddy laughed as he pulled the suitcase onto the floor. “Are you taking your entire closet? Here, you sit on it and I’ll zip it.”

  I sat on the suitcase and Daddy zipped it, then he lugged it downstairs.

  I followed him to the car, where his small suitcase was already in the trunk.

  “I wasn’t sure what to bring,” I said. “I’ve never been to a Persian wedding before.”

  We drove to the airport and waited in line to pass through security. My stomach churned. I’d never been on a plane.

  “You’ll be fine.” Daddy smiled at me. “It’s safer than riding in a car.”

  We found our row and I buckled myself into the window seat.

  “Are you okay?” Daddy asked. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  I nodded, holding his hand tightly as the plane taxied onto the runway, then picked up speed and rose into the air.

  After a while, I relaxed enough to let go of his hand.

  “See, it’s not so bad,” Daddy said. He pulled a magazine from his briefcase and began reading. I stared out the window, remembering all the times I had looked up at airplanes in the sky and wondered who was on them and where they were going. I wondered if anyone was looking up at this plane, wondering about me.

  Almost four hours later, the pilot announced that we were coming into Los Angeles. Far below, I could see the city spread out in all directions. It seemed to go on forever. Somewhere in that huge city, Mama lived with Navid and Kamran, her new baby boy.

  As we walked into the airport terminal, I held Daddy’s hand again. The airport was huge, much bigger than the one in Indianapolis. And it was filled with people, all kinds of people. A woman in a veil passed by, carrying a huge covered basket. A man with the darkest skin I had ever seen sat with an equally dark child on his lap. By the airport bar, several people with shaved heads and bright orange robes handed out marigolds to passersby. It was like a whole different world.

  “There he is,” Daddy said, pointing to where Navid stood. He waved and Navid smiled and waved back.

  “Welcome,” Navid said, shaking Daddy’s hand. “How was your flight?”

  “Fine,” Daddy said. “I don’t think Judy liked it very much.”

  “No?” Navid looked at me.

  “It was okay,” I said. “Where’s Mama?”

  “She’s at home with the baby,” he said. “I didn’t think it would be good to bring him out around so many people. Come on, let’s get your luggage.”

  We found our suitcases and followed Navid across an enormous parking lot to his car. Daddy rode in the front seat with Navid and I sat in back. I stared out the window as we pulled onto the freeway, all twelve lanes of it. So many cars buzzed around us, it almost made me dizzy.

  “It will take a little while,” Navid said. “We moved up to Pasadena six weeks ago. It’s closer to my work, and it’s a better place to raise children.”

  I couldn’t even imagine raising children in such a big city.

  “How is the baby?” Daddy asked.

  “He’s fine.” Navid smiled. “A big, strong boy.”

  “And Cassie?”

  “Oh, she’s fine, too. A little tired, but she’s okay.”

  We passed palm trees and tall buildings and everywhere more cars. By the time we pulled off the freeway, I felt as if we’d traveled halfway across the universe.

  Navid parked in front of a big cream-colored stucco building. “We’re on the fourth floor,” he said, pulling my suitcase from the trunk. “It’s a good thing we have an elevator.” He grinned at me.

  “Cassie Joon,” he called as he opened the door to the apartment. “We’re home.”

  She walked into the living room carrying a tiny baby wrapped in a blue blanket.

  “Oh, Sweet Judy,” she said, “welcome home!”

  She hugged me, then pulled the blanket back from the baby’s head. He had thick, dark hair and huge black eyes.

  “This is Kamran,” Mama said, smiling proudly, “your new baby brother. Isn’t he beautiful?”

  I touched his small cheek. “Yes, Mama. He’s beautiful.”

  I stared at the baby, looking for something familiar, some sign that he was my brother. But all I saw was a miniature Navid staring back at me.

  “Hey, Cassie.” Daddy leaned forward and kissed Mama’s cheek. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine, Kirk,” she said. “I’m better than fine. I’m ... well, I’m blessed.” She smiled at him.

  “Good,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other. “That’s good.”

  “Here,” Mama said, pulling me toward the sofa. “Sit down and you can hold him.”

  I sat and she laid the baby carefully in my arms. I cradled him, staring down at his brown face. He didn’t look like me at all. He didn’t even look like Mama.

  “Navid Joon,” Mama said, “get the camera and take a picture of Judy and Kamran.”

  Navid snapped several photos of me holding the baby, then several more with Mama sitting beside me. Daddy stood by the front door, watching in silence.

  Finally, Navid set the camera aside. “Are you hungry?” he asked, looking from me to Daddy. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  “No, thanks,” Daddy said. “We ate on the plane.”

  “Ah.” Navid shook his head. “That’s not real food. I made Indian food—curry. You must eat.”

  He strode into the kitchen and Mama laughed.

  “You have to eat something,” she said. “He was up half the night cooking. And please, Kirk, sit down. Sit down and relax. You’ve had a long trip.” She smiled at him.

  Daddy sat down in a chair by the door, beneath a huge framed picture of a kind-looking old man with a white beard.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, pointing to the picture.

  Mama smiled. “That’s ‘Abdu’l-Bahá,” she said. “He’s the son of Bahá’u’lláh, the founder of the Bahá’í faith. It was a gift from Navid’s parents. They gave it to us when we moved in as a housewarming present.”

  “So,” Daddy said, eyeing the picture, “Navid’s family is Bahá’í. Will you raise the baby as a Bahá’í?”

  “Oh,” Mama said, “it’s funny. Before Kamran was born, Navid didn’t seem to care so much about religion. But now ... well, now he’d like to raise the baby in his faith. So yeah, I guess we’ll raise him as a Bahá’í.”

  Daddy smiled. “And what do your folks think of that?” he asked.

  Mama sighed. “I t
alked to them after Kamran was born,” she said. “They sent that.” She pointed to a stroller sitting by the door.

  “I asked them to come to the wedding, but of course they won’t.”

  “I’m surprised you even asked,” Daddy said.

  “It was Navid’s idea,” Mama said. “Family is really important to him. He wanted them to come. He met Dad when we were in Indiana. And they seemed to hit it off. But ... well, you know my mom.”

  “I’m sorry, Cassie.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Karen is coming.”

  Daddy smiled. “Good for her.”

  “You know, Kirk, you’re welcome to come to the wedding.” Mama smiled at him.

  “Thanks, Cassie. I don’t think so. But thanks.”

  “Here we are!” Navid emerged from the kitchen carrying a big platter stacked with plates, glasses, and silverware. In the center sat a huge pile of rice and a bowl filled with a yellowish sauce. “This is from India,” he said. “I know you like spicy foods, Judy. You will love this.”

  He piled rice onto a plate and ladled sauce over it, then handed it to me. He filled another plate for Daddy. He looked at Mama and she laughed and shook her head. “No, thanks,” she said. “I can’t handle your sauces. Especially while I’m breastfeeding.”

  As if on cue, the baby whimpered and squirmed, then let out a cry that sounded like a kitten yowling for its mother.

  Mama smiled and lifted her blouse, raising the baby to her bare breast. Daddy looked away.

  “Ah,” Navid said. “But that’s exactly why you should be eating it. So Kamran Joon develops a good, strong stomach.”

  Mama just shook her head again. “I’ve already eaten.”

  I took a cautious bite and then another. The wonderful, complex flavor of the curry filled my mouth, and then I began to feel a slow, steady burn building. Navid watched me, smiling. He poured a large glass of water from a pitcher and handed it to me.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, watching me gulp down the cold water.

  I nodded, taking another bite.

  “There,” he said, smiling at Mama. “You see? Even Judy eats my food. What are we to do with you?”

  Mama just laughed.

  After we had eaten, Daddy asked if Navid would take him to the car rental place, so he could rent a car. But Navid only smiled. “No,” he said. “While you are here you must drive Cassie’s car. She is not driving. She is not going anywhere. So the car is free.”

  “Oh no, I can’t,” Daddy said. “What if she wants to go someplace?”

  “Then I will take her,” Navid said, putting his hand on Mama’s shoulder. “She should not drive so soon after the baby.”

  Mama sighed and patted Navid’s hand. “He thinks I’m as fragile as a china doll,” she said, smiling. “I can’t make him believe that I’m fine. Just fine.”

  “You are more than fine,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “You are perfect. And it is my job to keep you safe that way.”

  Mama laughed and laid the baby in a bassinet by the couch, touching her finger to his nose lightly.

  “Well,” Daddy said, looking toward the front door. “I really can’t use your car. I’ll rent one. That’s what I’d planned on.”

  But Navid would not be moved. After much discussion, he finally pressed the car keys into Daddy’s hand. Daddy sighed and gave up.

  “You are staying at the Holiday Inn?” Navid asked. “It’s not far from here. I will make you a map.”

  “Okay,” Daddy said, kissing my forehead. “I’ll call you later. You gonna be okay?”

  I nodded, holding his hand. I would be staying at the apartment with Mama and Navid and the baby.

  “Are you?” I asked, softly, so Mama wouldn’t hear.

  “Yes, honey. I’ll be fine. I’m going to check in, unpack, and hit the hay. It’s been a long day.”

  He left with Navid’s map tucked into his pocket and Mama’s car keys in his hand.

  “Well,” Mama said, putting her arm around my shoulders. “Let me show you your room. We fixed it up just for you.”

  The room was small, with a bed placed under the window. It was decorated in peach and green, just like my room at home.

  “I hope you like it,” Mama said. “I tried to make it like I remember your room at your dad’s.”

  “It’s nice,” I said. I felt a huge lump in my throat, thinking about her decorating this room for me. “Thank you.”

  She smiled and hugged me. “I’m so glad.”

  “Where does the baby sleep?” I asked.

  “Well, right now he sleeps in our room. But when he gets older, I suppose we’ll move him in here.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed hard. The peach and green wouldn’t stay then.

  “But for now, it’s all yours,” Mama said brightly. “You can put your things in here.” She pointed to a dresser. “Goodness.” She laughed, looking at my suitcase. “You brought a lot of things.”

  She began pulling clothes from the suitcase and laying them in drawers.

  “Probably too much,” I said softly. After all, I would only be staying a week.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “We have lots of room. Oh good, you brought your swimsuit. We have a pool, you know. It’s on the roof.”

  “Really?” I’d never heard of a pool on a roof.

  “Sure. Tomorrow we’ll go up there and swim. Would you like that?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh, Sweet Judy,” she said, plopping down on the bed. “I’m so glad you’re here.

  I sat down beside her and she pulled me into a hug.

  “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to have you with me. And now, here you are.” She smiled, but I could see tears in her eyes.

  “We’re going to have so much fun,” she continued. “Tomorrow we’ll swim and maybe take a walk. And one day Navid is going to take us to the beach. And then there’s the wedding, of course. That will be fun, too. On Friday, we’re going to have dinner with Navid’s family. They can’t wait to meet you. You’ll love them, they’re so great. And we’ll have a big dinner. And then Saturday ... well, that’s the wedding.”

  She leaned back against the pillow and smiled. “It’s going to be beautiful, Judy. A beautiful Persian wedding. And wait till you see my dress. It’s gorgeous! And I have a dress for you, too.”

  She rose and walked to the closet, pulling out a green and gold silk gown.

  “Look,” she said, holding it out to me. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  I could only nod. It was indeed beautiful, like a shimmery scarf.

  “Try it on,” Mama said. “Come on, try it on and let’s make sure it fits you.”

  So I undressed and Mama slipped the gown over my head. The soft, light fabric fell gently around me until it touched my feet.

  “And look,” Mama said, pulling at a fold of fabric. “You use this to cover your head. Oh, honey.” She sighed, smiling at me. “You’re gorgeous! Look!” She led me to a mirror and I gazed at myself. I looked different in the dress, exotic almost. My dark hair contrasted nicely with the gold of the scarf.

  “Navid,” Mama called. “Come look at my Sweet Judy in her dress.”

  Navid stood in the doorway and smiled at us. “You look almost like a Persian, Judy Joon,” he said, nodding at me. “Beautiful.”

  “Why do you call everyone Joon?” I asked.

  “It’s a Persian term of endearment,” he said. “It’s like saying Judy dear.”

  I wished Daddy could see me in the dress.

  After I’d dressed in my normal clothes, Mama took me up to the roof to look at the swimming pool. It was surrounded by potted palm trees and lounge chairs. It looked like a Hollywood movie set. To the north, the San Gabriel Mountains rose, barely visible through the brownish haze.

  “You should see it in the winter,” Mama said. “When the smog’s gone, the mountains are amazing.”

  She pointed out some Mediterranean-looking buildings a few blocks aw
ay. “That’s CalTech,” she said. “That’s where Navid works. Tomorrow we’ll walk over there and you can see it. It’s beautiful. It looks more like a spa than a college campus. You’ll love it.”

  Before I went to bed that night I called Daddy, just to say good night. And to make sure he was okay.

  “I’m fine,” he said. He sounded tired. “Don’t worry about me. Just have a good time with your mother and the baby.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” I said. It made me sad thinking of him alone in a hotel room. “Do you have a pool there?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I think there’s a pool.”

  “Okay,” I said, knowing he would not use the pool. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Judy.”

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, peanut.”

  After I got off the phone, Mama tucked me into bed and kissed my forehead. “Good night, my Sweet Judy. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Good night, Mama.”

  She turned out the light and closed the door behind her. I stared out the window at the lights of the unfamiliar city. I felt a million miles away from my home in Indiana. I wished Lee Ann could be here with me. She would love the pool and the silk gown, although I thought she probably wouldn’t like Navid’s curry very much.

  After a long time, I fell asleep.

  22

  The next few days passed in a blur. We walked around Pasadena, Mama pushing Kamran in his stroller and buying us ice cream on Lake Street. We swam in the pool on the roof while the baby slept in a little basket under an umbrella. One day Navid drove us to Malibu Beach. Mama and I splashed in the ocean while he watched us from the shore, cradling the baby. Daddy came for dinner a couple times, but mostly he stayed at the hotel. I called him every night to say good night.

  On Friday afternoon, I put on the dress I had brought with me for the wedding. We were going to have dinner with Navid’s family.

  Mama brushed my hair and pulled it back into a French braid.

  “When we get there, be sure to shake their hands,” she said. “And be very polite, okay? Navid’s parents are very traditional.”

  I nodded.

  “And you should call them Mr. and Mrs. Ghorbani. They probably wouldn’t like it if you called them by their first names. And Navid’s sister will be there with her husband and their kids. They’re so cute, you’ll love them. Samira is five and Farid is two. They’re just precious.”