by Jae
“Great minds think alike, right?” Laleh winked at her.
Hope smiled. “In our case, quite literally,” she whispered so no one else could hear.
“Laleh joon, what are you doing? Bring her in here!” someone shouted from behind Laleh.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Laleh opened the door wider.
Hesitantly, Hope followed her into the house. Before she could look around, Laleh’s mother rushed up to her and kissed her on each cheek. “It’s so good to see you again, Dr. Finlay. Welcome.”
Hope held up the bouquet of flowers like a shield before more family members could walk over and kiss her. “Uh, thank you. These are for you.”
Mrs. Samadi fussed over the flowers, oohing and aahing, even though it was only a bunch of gerbera daisies from the hospital gift shop. Hugging the flowers to her chest, she pulled Hope into the living room, where furniture seemed to have been moved so that two tables now fit into the room. Both almost bowed beneath the weight of countless bowls and platters of food, some of them half empty already, while several female relatives brought in more.
About a dozen people instantly stood when Hope entered.
“Everyone, this is Dr. Finlay, the doctor who saved our baby’s life.”
“Maman!” Laleh groaned next to Hope.
“What?” Her mother put her hands on her hips. “You’re the baby of the family, aren’t you?”
Laleh let out another groan. “Why did I think this was a good idea?” she mumbled.
Hope was introduced to Laleh’s brothers and their wives, cousins, aunts, and uncles until she lost track of who was who. The women all kissed her cheeks while the men exuberantly shook her hand.
Before she knew it, she was seated among them at one of the tables and several hands heaped food onto her plate.
After the stress of her busy shift and the confrontation with Scott, this warm, lively atmosphere almost caused some kind of emotional whiplash. It was overwhelming, but in a very nice way—especially since Laleh stuck close the entire time, her bare knee brushing Hope’s leg every now and then in the close quarters at the table.
Thankfully, no one seemed to expect her to say much, as long as she kept eating. Good thing she was starving.
“Your friend is pretty,” Laleh’s father said in Farsi.
Hope almost choked on a bite of koofteh meatballs.
“Yes.” Mrs. Samadi nodded several times. “But she should really do something with that hair of hers. It looks as if she’s been through the car wash.”
“Maman!” Laleh took on the color of a pomegranate. She touched Hope’s knee beneath the table, making her jump as her leg started to tingle. “I’m so sorry,” Laleh whispered to her.
“It’s okay,” Hope whispered back. She struggled against the urge to run her hand through her unruly hair, not wanting to let on that she understood every word.
“Hey, everyone.” Laleh took her hand off Hope’s knee and waved at her relatives. “You’re being rude. Let’s switch to English.”
But in the din of conversations buzzing around the table, no one seemed to hear her.
“Well, she’s a doctor,” Laleh’s aunt said, still in Farsi. “It’s probably from those caps they wear.”
Her mother nodded. “We should introduce her to Jafar and the rest of the unmarried cousins.”
Oh God. This probably wasn’t the moment to tell them in Farsi that she’d be more interested in Jafar’s sisters, should he have any. Hope pressed the napkin to her mouth. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to run, so she settled on sending Laleh an imploring gaze.
“Uh, Maman, Baba…” Laleh again tried to get a word in, but the others at the table kept talking.
“What kind of car does she drive?” her oldest brother wanted to know.
Okay, that was it. Hope told him the exact make, model, and color—in Farsi.
For a moment, everyone kept talking; then a sudden silence settled over the room as they seemed to become aware that she’d answered in their own language.
“Wow,” Laleh muttered into the silence. “I never thought I’d see the day my family is speechless.”
“Laleh!” Her mother tsked at her. “Why didn’t you tell us that she could speak Farsi?”
“I would have, but you didn’t let me get a word in!”
Everyone turned toward Hope, peppering her with questions about how she’d learned Farsi.
Damn. What do I say now? Hope glanced at Laleh, who looked as clueless as she felt. “I…uh…picked it up at the hospital,” she finally said. Literally.
Laleh started laughing and quickly covered it with a cough.
Hope looked over at her, and they grinned at each other like co-conspirators.
“You must be quite talented when it comes to languages,” Laleh’s mother said, beaming at Hope. “You sound almost like someone from Shiraz. That’s where Amir, my husband, is from. Laleh spent several summers there as a child, didn’t you, Laleh joon?”
For a while, the adults around the table exchanged stories about Shiraz and the family members still living there.
Hope heaved a sigh of relief and went back to enjoying the food. Just when she was beginning to think that this Thanksgiving wasn’t turning out to be so bad after all, Laleh’s mother turned back toward her.
“Wasn’t your poor family heartbroken that you wouldn’t spend Thanksgiving with them?”
A forkful of saffron rice seemed to turn to ashes in Hope’s mouth. She took a big gulp of water to swallow it down. “Uh, no. I… I don’t have any family left.”
“No family?” Mrs. Samadi’s eyes widened.
Hope squirmed in her seat. She didn’t want to talk about it but felt obligated to explain. “I never knew my father, and my mother…” She took a deep breath. “She died when I was eight.”
A murmur went through the room. Everyone seemed to lean a little closer to Hope, as if wanting to lend comfort.
Laleh softly squeezed her forearm.
Mrs. Samadi looked as if she were close to tears. She reached across the table and gripped both of Hope’s hands. “From now on, you must come spend the holidays with us.”
Everyone else immediately nodded.
Hope stared at the faces of these strangers, who at the same time looked so familiar as if she’d known them for all her life. Was this for real, or were they taarofing, offering just to be polite?
She looked at Laleh, who nodded too, her dark eyes shining with what looked suspiciously like tears.
A lump of emotion formed in Hope’s throat. Why would these people embrace a complete stranger like this? They didn’t even know about the weird connection between her and Laleh.
Someone tugged on the back of Hope’s blouse.
When she turned, she came face-to-face with Laleh’s niece, who had gotten up from the floor, holding on to her coloring book. “I don’t care what Maman Bozorg says. I like your hair.”
Laughter rippled around the table, and Hope found herself joining in. With Laleh’s hand still resting on her forearm, she looked across the table at Mrs. Samadi. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Samadi nodded and put another meatball on Hope’s plate.
Laleh leaned closer, her shoulder brushing Hope’s. “Just for the record, I like your hair too.”
* * *
When the front door fell closed behind them, Laleh and Hope heaved twin sighs of relief.
It had taken them half an hour to say good-bye to everyone because Laleh’s mother, her aunt, and several other family members had followed them out into the hall, where they had kept talking to them at the door.
After saying good-bye three times, they had finally made their escape, each with a plastic bag full of leftovers.
Hope was silent as they walked toward their cars.
Laleh wanted to touch her forearm and connect somehow, but she had a feeling Hope had reached her limit of touching and kissing for the day.
They stopped in front of Laleh’s Toyota.
&
nbsp; She turned toward Hope and leaned her hip against the driver’s side door. For the first time, she noticed that Hope had a bit of Aunt Nasrin’s bright pink lipstick on her cheek. “You have a little lipstick there.” She pointed.
Hope rubbed her cheek and smiled wryly. “I wasn’t even kissed this much in my last relationship.”
Instantly, Laleh wanted to know more: What kind of woman had her girlfriend been? Why hadn’t she wanted to kiss Hope every chance she got? Why hadn’t it worked out between them? But she curbed her curiosity. After surviving dinner with her family, Hope probably wasn’t in the mood for more personal questions. “I’m sorry,” she said with a wave toward the house. “I know my family can be pretty overwhelming.”
Hope shook her head. “They’re fine.”
Laleh gave her a disbelieving look. “The last friend I brought home with me said she needed to lie down in a dark, silent room for a few hours after spending the afternoon with my family.”
That made Hope chuckle, the serious expression on her face turning into a smile. “Okay, I admit they can be a bit much, but they’re good people. And you forget that I work in an emergency department. I’m used to constant chaos around me.”
“Then why did you seem so…I don’t know…out of sorts tonight?” Even now, waves of energy seemed to come off Hope. While that wasn’t unusual for her, the waves were higher today, like an ocean during a storm.
Hope sighed. “It’s got nothing to do with your family. I promise.”
Laleh knew she should leave it at that, but she couldn’t. Something wasn’t quite right with Hope, and she wanted to know what it was and how she could help. “What is it, then?”
Hope looked down at her polished leather shoes.
Now Laleh could no longer stop herself. She reached out and softly touched Hope’s forearm. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
“It’s no big deal, really. Just one of our residents driving me crazy. First, he showed up late for his shift and didn’t even apologize, then he wanted to tell a family their loved one had died while munching on a damn piece of pie.”
Laleh shook her head. She didn’t even want to imagine how she would have felt if a doctor like that had treated her in the ER instead of kind, professional Hope. “Unbelievable. And he wants to become an emergency physician?”
“Not if he continues like that. If he pulls a stunt like that again, I’ll talk to the residency program director and make sure he’s put on probation.” Hope’s nostrils flared. “God, he makes me so angry, I could have throttled him.”
“I know the feeling. I could have killed my brother Navid earlier too.”
“Yeah?” Hope seemed only too willing to change the topic. “What did he do?”
Laleh’s cheeks heated. “Nothing.”
“Oh, come on. I know you better than that already. You’re not the type to want to kill your brother over nothing.”
“Usually, I’m not, but…” The longer she thought about it, the more embarrassing it became. Fighting over the crunchy rice at the bottom of the pan like two kids… “Maybe I should get an MRI too. My emotions have been pretty out of whack lately. Last Sunday, I nearly burst into tears at the restaurant.”
Lines of concern formed on Hope’s forehead. She leaned a little closer. “Why? What happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I was sad for no reason at all. I felt like my dog died or something—but I don’t even have one.” Laleh chuckled. It sounded forced, even to her own ears. The overwhelming grief and sadness she’d felt that day still hung over her like a cloud whenever she thought about it.
The lines on Hope’s forehead deepened.
“What?” Laleh asked. “What is it? You don’t think it could be a brain tumor or something like that, do you?”
“No, I…” Hope shook her head as if wanting to get rid of an annoying fly buzzing around her. “I just had a crazy thought.”
“Want to share?”
“No. Forget it. It’s impossible.”
Laleh continued to look at her, sensing that she needed to give Hope some space and not pressure her too much.
Hope reached into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out her car keys. She played with them and looked over at her BMW as if considering a quick escape. But then she closed her fist around the keys and flicked her gaze to Laleh’s face. “What time was it when you got so angry with your brother?”
“Around a quarter past seven, I think. Why?”
The muscles in Hope’s throat moved as she swallowed. “And when you got sad at the restaurant?”
“I don’t know…” Laleh studied Hope’s face. For some reason, this seemed to be important. “Some time after two in the afternoon.”
“Shit. That’s… That’s impossible!” Hope whirled around and stomped toward her car but then turned back after two steps. “Jesus H. Christ!”
“What? What is it?”
“Today at a quarter past seven, I had that little heart-to-heart with Scott.” Hope paced back and forth in front of Laleh, clutching the plastic bag with the leftovers. “And guess where I was on Sunday afternoon?”
“In Boston?”
Hope nodded grimly. “I was visiting my mother’s grave for the first time in…well, a very long time.”
On shaky legs, Laleh sank against the car, pressing her free hand against its cool metal in a fruitless attempt to ground herself. “You mean…? You think…? What I felt on Sunday and earlier…that was you? Your emotions?”
“It’s crazy, right?” Hope’s husky voice sounded one pitch higher than it normally did. “I’m probably imagining things. Impossible things.”
“Maybe, but we also thought it was impossible for you to speak Farsi or for me to have access to your medical knowledge.”
Hope shoved her keys back into her pocket and ran one hand through her hair, making it even messier. “But this connection between us…it’s only about knowledge and tastes in food, not about emotions.”
“It was. But what if…what if it somehow got stronger or more extensive?”
“Why would it suddenly change?” Hope asked. “It’s not like we got zapped a second time.”
“No, but we spent a lot of time together. Maybe our link got stronger because of that.”
“You really think it works that way?” Hope stared at her and took a step back as if even standing close to Laleh would make things worse.
That hurt. Laleh took her hand away from the car and wrapped her arms around herself, the plastic bag dangling down at her side. “I don’t know, Hope.” She struggled to keep calm. “I don’t understand this any better than you do. I just know that I had no reason to get angry today or sad on Sunday—yet I did. Considering all the other stuff that’s going on with us, I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
Hope kept shaking her head. “Humans aren’t empaths. That’s stuff from science fiction novels, not something that happens in real life. There’s no medical cause that could possibly explain it.”
“There might not be an explanation for it, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Hope shot her a dark look. “Yeah, thanks a lot, Shakespeare.”
“Hey, there’s no reason to take it out on me. This isn’t my fault, you know?”
Hope’s challenging stance instantly softened. “I know. I’m sorry, Laleh.” She looked into Laleh’s eyes, her blue irises darkened by troubling emotions. “This is just hard for me. I’ve never believed in all that”—she waved her hand in a vague circle—“supernatural or paranormal stuff or whatever you’d call it. I like things to be logical and follow the rules of science.”
“I know,” Laleh said. “But even you aren’t always completely logical, are you? I mean, do you never have a hunch about a patient and go with your gut?”
Hope seemed to think about it. “Yeah, sure. There was a boy last week who came into the ER after crashing his bike. The ultraso
und was normal at first, but…I don’t know… He was a little pale, and I had a bad feeling about it, so I kept him a little longer. And good thing I did, because it turned out he had a ruptured spleen.”
“See? So your scientifically unexplainable hunch saved his life.”
“That’s different. I’m a trained emergency physician. My hunches are based on my medical knowledge and years of experience. They weren’t just suddenly there, messing up my life.”
Laleh couldn’t suppress a wince. Messing up her life? Ouch. “Is it really that bad for you?”
Hope slumped against the car next to her. “Yes. No. Maybe it’s not exactly messing up my life, but…” She sighed. “I’m really struggling with this situation.”
They both leaned against the Toyota and stared off into the distance.
Finally, Hope blew out a long breath, reached over, and, in an almost shy way, took Laleh’s hand.
It felt familiar, as if they had touched like this a thousand times, yet at the same time, a tingle of excitement flowed up Laleh’s arm. It had to be the craziness of this moment, right?
“I’m sorry.” Hope softly squeezed her fingers. “Here I am, going on and on about how much I don’t like this, and I’m not even the one who’s experiencing emotions that are not my own. How are you doing with all this?”
Laleh looked down at their entwined fingers. “I don’t know. I guess it hasn’t really sunk in yet.”
“Maybe it was just a fluke and won’t happen again.”
“Maybe,” Laleh said, without believing it.
Again, they stood in silence, their joined hands doing the communicating. After a minute or two, Laleh became aware that she was brushing her thumb back and forth across Hope’s knuckles and quickly stilled her finger.
But Hope didn’t withdraw her hand; either she hadn’t noticed or she didn’t mind. “If this is really happening…if there’s really an emotional connection between us, why do you think you’re the one who experiences my emotions, but not the other way around? I mean, that shared knowledge goes both ways, why not this too?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because my emotions aren’t as extreme at the moment. I mean, in your job everything is life or death. My life is boring in comparison, so maybe that’s what makes it harder for you to pick up on my emotions. Or…” She bit her lip, not wanting to hurt Hope by voicing her thoughts.
