Sorry for the silence... life got crazy.
*****
+++ Noah +++
"You can't go home tomorrow. The news says Iran is dangerous," I urged Mr. Naseri. There had been an article about some nuclear deal going on and some people saying it was going to get us killed.
"Noah! My home is not dangerous. It will be just fine," Mr. Naseri laughed.
"I'm serious... it could be dangerous. I would be heartbroken if anything happened," I reached over and put my hand on his, I rubbed the back of his hand with one finger and looked down at the table.
"You really are worried, aren't you?" Mr. Naseri observed. He took both of my hands and held them in his.
"I don't want you to get hurt," I said as his warmth flowed through my hands.
"Our countries don't tell the truth about each other," he said and held my hands tightly. We were having our last morning together before they went home.
We'd developed a little routine of walking to the coffee place while Navid was off on business and Mrs. Naseri was preparing food or off with Navid. Mr. Naseri loved trying all the varieties, the weird flavors of America that they didn't have back home. He liked how specialized he could get his drink.
"But it's from the newspaper. Why would they do that?" I said and took a sip of my green tea.
"That's a very good question. Our countries used to be friends. When I was young, Iran was emulating much about your country. Some of us felt that we had gone too far though and were in danger of losing our culture. Things got ugly pretty quickly, but now we are hopeful that peace is in sight," he explained as he rubbed my shoulder.
"Oh... but maybe you should stay an extra few weeks just to make sure... you could just stay here if you wanted to. We have room for you both," I said. Although I really wanted things back to normal with Navid, I would miss his parents when they left.
"I have a job and children back in Iran. If it is dangerous then I must go home and protect them," Mr. Naseri chuckled at my offer.
"I know... I just... I like having family here. I'm going to miss this," I said.
Mr. Naseri nodded and hugged me to his side. He assured me that we would be together again before too long. He sounded so confident about it like he never thought we could be adversaries. Maybe he would think differently if he knew what I was to his son, what I lusted after.
I'm not sure how, but the conversation turned to gender roles. He noted a couple in the coffee shop where the "husband" went to sit at the table while the "wife" went to the counter and engaged the male cashier to get the drinks. He thought the man should have done that and shouldn't have let her pay or talk with other men. He gave a look of shock to a guy who walked in with quarter-sized ear spacers stretching his earlobes wide. He said that would never be done in his country. We talked about how different it was here.
And then I asked something without thinking. I couldn't stop myself. I rambled foolishly. I asked what they did when men didn't want to be like that with women or didn't want to be with women. He looked at me strangely, I never ventured into topics of controversy like that.
"I shouldn't ask that," I said after I asked it. "You probably don't want to talk about that."
"No," Mr. Naseri straightened up and shook his head. "It's ok, Noah. It's ok to ask questions. You're a very inquisitive boy, that's not a bad thing. Was there a reason for you to ask this?"
My pulse started to thump against my brain. Was he asking me if I had asked because I like boys? Did he know?
"No... no sir, I was just... curious," I shrugged with a dismissive chuckle and desperately tried to backpedal out of this.
I felt my heart pounding just thinking about how he might answer, or how Navid would react when he found out I'd asked that of his father. But Mr. Naseri smiled and rubbed my shoulder in that fatherly way he had.
"In my country one belongs to his family. There is a responsibility to each other as part of a group. We support each other and help when there is need. We are always there for each other. It is different here as it is in Britain. Did that answer your question?" he asked and cocked his head to the side.
It didn't... not at all.
"Yes sir... That's really... great families. Wow,," I said wanting this to end quickly. He smiled and nodded.
"If you are worried about becoming a man, Noah, you shouldn't. You're still young and small. You have much growing to do and have many days ahead of you. There is no reason to rush it," he said.
"I hope I can be as good of a man as Navid is," I said.
"I hope so too. Navid is severely strict with you. He doesn't allow you much room to grow. I've spoken to him about it, but he feels it is necessary because of your upbringing. If you don't push back against him, he will not give you enough room to spread your wings. You have to let him know when to back away. I can see how badly you want his approval, but he's a loyal father to you. He won't abandon you. He is learning how to be a father, how to support as I did but yet still give you room to grow," Mr. Naseri said.
"You gave him room to grow?" I asked.
"I gave all my children room to make mistakes. It is how we learn. My children always know that I am there for whatever they need, but I step aside when their need is to learn on their own. Navid doesn't have that part of it. He wants everything to be easy and simple for you... too simple. He needs more pushback to figure it out...ok?" Mr. Naseri asked.
I nodded and his smile returned. I couldn't tell him that saying no to Navid, defying him, made my stomach ache and my chest tighten. Navid fought and worked for every dollar he earned in the struggle to build his business. I wanted him to come home to a happy place where he was king and in complete relaxation.
He eyed me thoughtfully for an awkward minute as if reading the confusion in my head and then went on talking about how much he would love to have a coffee shop like this in his neighborhood. We stayed on light topics as we walked back home. It was the last time we'd do this for the foreseeable future. There was an unspoken sadness between us.
+++ Navid +++
Noah, my beautiful prince, was stretched out on our bed when I got home. I'd been away for nearly five hours to see my parents off on their flight. We had lunch on the way to the airport and then I got their bags checked in at the ticketing counter and sat with them for an hour before they had to go to their gate.
I could tell Noah had been busy in my absence. The house was cleaned and everything in our bedroom was put back to the way it was before my parents' visit. He had changed the sheets and bedspread back to the ones we used. I took off my shoes and sat next to him on the bed. I already knew that our clothes would be back in our drawers, everything back to how it had been before my parents' visit. He always worked so hard to make sure I came home to an impeccable, perfect place.
I leaned over his sleeping frame and pushed back his light blonde hair. He had it grown out on top and shaved close on the sides. His eyes looked a little puffy and I could see the bits of salt down the side of his cheek that told me he had been crying. He had bonded so quickly and deeply with my parents.
I understood it. Noah longed for two parents who were stable and the large family he never had. He was fascinated to hear my parents' stories of the foolish or funny things I had done as a child with my brothers and sisters. He wanted that connection; to lose himself in the safety of a large tribe. My parents so readily welcomed him and Noah was somewhat devastated when I told him it wasn't easy for Americans to visit Iran.
I rubbed down Noah's chest and felt his stomach rumble when my hand passed it. He probably hadn't eaten since my mother's breakfast this morning. He never ate when he got too busy or upset. Though I was desperate to slide off his clothes and be inside my boy, I knew I would have to remedy this soon. Noah needed a bit of coercion to take care of himself sometimes. He needed a protector.
The final two hours at the airport with my parents was wasted trying to work up the nerve to confess everything to them. My father had pressed a wad of bills into my hand before he left. He said it was money he forgot to exchange, but I knew he was leaving it for me to spend because I hadn't needed their financial support.
"Take it back to Iran and deposit it there," I said knowing the banks in Tehran liked to have US cash. My father insisted the government regulation prohibited this, but we both knew the banks would circumvent it and want the cash as a service for their higher-income clients.
"Use it for something, a gift for Noah. He rarely spends your money. Use it for his tuition or shoes or whatever the boy likes. You are too strict with him! Think of this as payment for putting up with you," my father laughed but he wasn't entirely joking.
"He has all that he needs, but... I don't wish to argue about this, father," I shoved the cash in my pocket without counting it.
I wanted so desperately to tell them what Noah meant to me, to explain to them what was right in front of their eyes. He was my perfect boy, I would never find better. No one was more suited to my heart, my soul, my world.
They already loved him. If he had been female they would have insisted that I marry him on the spot. He fit with them, respected them, cared for them as if he were their own child. My father would have immediately contacted Noah's and made arrangements.
He checked off every box on my mother's list. Noah was kind and gentle, soft-spoken and supportive. He wanted her guidance in the kitchen, the home... If he spoke our language, he would want her guidance in life as well. She saw how he was wise with my money, this is important for Persians. The wife controls most of the home budget, and my mother watched every coin that was spent on food, clothing, entertainment.
