A Door between Us by Ehsaneh Sadr

Author:Ehsaneh Sadr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2020-07-23T22:29:09+00:00

PART THREE

Two Days in December

The rulers, however, say that people do not understand, that they are ignorant and that they do not really understand their interests. They argue that they have been appointed by God and His representative to rule over this mass of people.

—Mohsen Kadivar, prominent critic of the Islamic Republic, August 31, 2009

CHAPTER 7

Friday, December 18, 2009, Midday—six months after the election

Normality hasn’t been practiced in Iran . . . The new generation understand they need to have a normal life.

—Former senior Iranian official6

Sarah felt her phone vibrate in her jeans pocket as she leaned over the bathroom sink, waiting for the ultimate outcome of another bout of nausea.

She pulled the phone out. As expected, it was Ali.

“Allo? ”

“Sarah, it’s me. I’m just looking for parking outside. Should I come in?”

“No, Ali-jaan, I . . .”

Sarah’s stomach lurched, and she put the phone down to lean closer to the sink. But it turned out to be a false alarm. She put the phone to her ear again.

“Sorry, Ali . . .”

“Are you okay?”

Sarah loved that he sounded so worried.

“I’m fine, azizam,” she reassured him. “I’m just sick again. Today is the worst it’s been.”

Ali chuckled softly, “If this kid is causing so much trouble before it even arrives, we’re in for a rough ride.”

“Ugh . . . I feel too awful to even joke about it.”

“You’re right, dearest. I’m sorry. Anyway, I’m here.”

“Yes, Ali-jaan, I was saying . . . I’ve been so sick, and my father only just got here. I . . .”

“You haven’t told them yet?”

“No, but I’ll do it right now—as soon as I get out of the bathroom, okay? I’ll text you. Just wait a bit for me.”

“Okay. Are you sure you want to do this today?”

“Yes! Don’t be mad. I’ll text you soon. I’ve got to go. I’m gonna be sick.”

Sarah flipped the phone closed, leaned over, and pulled back her hair with one hand as her body finally released her lunch into the sink.

Sarah felt better with her stomach emptied. She rinsed her mouth, washed her face, and critically examined her small eyes and wide nose in the mirror. Did she look different? In books and movies, pregnant women were always recognized by a certain “glow” about them. But even with all the morning queasiness, her own mother hadn’t seemed to notice anything, much to Sarah’s combined relief and disappointment.

Sarah smoothed back her thick black hair and fastened it with a hairband before retrieving her headscarf from where it hung on a hook beside her chador. She tugged the headscarf over her hair and tied it firmly under her chin. Then she reached for the light-green cotton chador and draped it over her head, careful to keep the ends from trailing onto the bathroom floor by gathering the folds and tucking them under her left elbow. She opened the bathroom door and shook her right foot loose of the bathroom slippers. Then she set her foot down in the hallway and swiveled to do the same with her left.

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