Even on issues pertaining to their daughter, the Yazdans took a very different approach. Imagine changing that charming name, Sooki, part of her native heritage, to plain old Susan! Su-zun Yazdun: it didn't even sound right. (Yaz-dan, Ziba had corrected her, when Bitsy once wondered aloud how well that really worked. Okay, but still. .) Not to mention the outfit Susan was wearing today, a party dress from one of those grandmother stores over in D. C. The sagusam Bitsy had lent her was lying now on the couch, shucked off as soon as everyone had had a chance to admire it. And their child-rearing philosophy in generaclass="underline" the working mother, the regimented bedtime, the singsong, fluty-voiced baby talk Su-SuSu! Susie june! as if Susan belonged to some whole other, less intelligent species of being.
Still, they were the first ones Bitsy thought of when she was in the mood for company. Let's call the Yazdans! See what they're up to. And Brad seemed to feel the same way. Maybe it had to do with the Yazdans' gentleness. They were so pliant and accepting; they lacked sharp edges. (Bitsy didn't include Maryam in this. Maryam could act very superior sometimes.) And also… well, wasn't it true that those women who'd actually given birth formed a complacent sort of sorority, with their talk of sonograms and labor pains and breast-feeding? None of Bitsy's other friends had adopted, as it happened. They were very supportive and all that, very diplomatic, but she could tell that underneath, they felt that to adopt was to settle for second-best. Oh, so many secret hurts and bruises lay behind this Arrival Party! And Sami and Ziba must have experienced them too.
Ziba had told her once that her parents believed that people who couldn't have children shouldn't have children; it wasn't meant to be. Destiny! Ziba had said with a laugh, but Bitsy had not laughed with her. Instead she had reached out and covered Ziba's hand with her own, and Ziba's eyes had flooded suddenly with tears.
Now the two little girls were rolling across the dining-room rug and giggling. They had started noticing each other lately. They were beginning to play together instead of back to back. And Sami was asking Brad how he liked his new Honda Civic, and Ziba was helping Bitsy set out the refreshments. It had become the custom for Ziba to be the one to make the tea when she was visiting. Surely the Yazdans could not actually taste the paper on a tea bag, but Ziba maintained that they could and so Bitsy kept a box of loose tea in her cupboard (a box she regularly had to discard because another thing the Yazdans could taste was old tea, in theory) and Ziba brewed it herself in a complicated process that involved a precarious tower of teapot on top of kettle and a periodic sniffing for the proper melting smell to the leaves. Jeannine and Laura were fascinated. They hovered around the stove, getting in everyone's way and asking questions. Shouldn't there be some easier method? This seems a little… makeshift. Why not just dump the leaves directly in the kettle? Streamline the operation? Ziba merely smiled. Bitsy felt secretly proud, as if some of the Yazdans' mystery had transferred itself to her.
The one boy cousin, Linwood, was asked to light the candle on the cake. Bitsy had thought this would make him feel more included. He was such an awkward creature, all Adam's apple and knobby joints, with thick, smudged glasses and too-short hair. But even stepping up to the table turned his face a deep red, and when he finally got a match lit he somehow managed to drop it as he was lurching toward the cake. Bitsy's father, who was closest, snuffed it out easily with one palm and said, No harm done, which wasn't quite true because a charred spot showed on the tablecloth, not that Bitsy cared about such things; but Abe's three daughters squealed as if he'd set the house on fire. God, Linwood, you're such a dork, his sister said, tossing her adult-looking mane of blond hair, and Laura said, That's quite enough out of you, young lady! and Linwood wheeled blindly and tried to escape through the ring of relatives, leading with his lowered head. It took a while for people to persuade him to try again.
Meanwhile, Brad was waiting out in the kitchen with Jin-Ho and Susan, listening for their entrance cue, but evidently neither child understood the situation. Bitsy could hear Susan asking, Mama? Mama? Just light the damn thing, Linwood, Mac said, and Laura said, Mac! and Linwood struck another match and lit the candle on his first try. It was fortunate there was just one candle. Bitsy was already calculating that next year, when there were two, the girls might be old enough to do it themselves with proper supervision, of course.
All right, everybody, Bitsy said, and she started singing. They'll be coming round the mountain when they come. . She had been searching till the very last minute for a more appropriate selection. There must be a song in grand opera about a long-awaited arrival. Or almost certainly in The Messiah, if that wasn't sacrilegious. But nothing had occurred to her, and this at least was a song the children knew. Everyone but the Hakimis (who were gamely smiling) joined her halfway through the first line even Linwood, in a mumbly undertone while Brad flung open the kitchen door and called, Ta-da! They're here! The two girls Jin-Ho resplendent in red-and-blue satin, Susan in pink organdy clung to his trouser legs and looked bewildered.
Oh, we'll all go out to meet them when they come, Bitsy sang. Come on, honey! she called to Jin-Ho. Come on, Susan! See your cake?
It was a beautiful cake a huge Stars and Stripes. The lady at the bakery counter thought we were just really, really late for the Fourth of July, Brad told Sami. The two of them were hoisting their daughters in their arms now so that they could have a view of the table. Abe stepped forward to aim his camera at them. You get in this too, he told Bitsy. You too, Ziba, get into the picture. Okay, all together now! Smile!
Everybody smiled (well, except for the girls, who still seemed baffled), and the camera flashed.
We'll let the cousins blow the candle out, Bitsy said. I'm not sure the girls are up to that yet. And Jeannine, if you would pour the tea, and Laura can serve the coffee, and I'll ask you to cut the cake, Pat. . For once, she refused to do everything on her own. She was celebrating the most important anniversary in her life (yes, even more important than the anniversary of her marriage), and she intended to enjoy it.
Predictably, Linwood held back from the candle-blowing, but the four girl cousins fell into the spirit of things, shoving each other and sputtering with laughter until more or less by chance the candle happened to go out. Then Brad's mother cut precise little squares of cake and Bitsy's father handed them around. He started with Bitsy's mother, probably out of solicitude, but she had not been able to eat much lately and she waved the plate aside. She was settled at the table in a ladder-back chair. The others remained on their feet, keeping to the small groups they felt most comfortable with, but Maryam pulled out the chair next to Connie and sat down also. I imagine tea would go well right now, Bitsy heard her say, and Connie said, Oh, you know, I believe it might. Maryam placed her own cup in front of Connie and turned to Jeannine for another, and Bitsy sent her a thankful smile even if Maryam didn't notice. Maryam was dressed in one of those super-stylish outfits she favored cigarette-legged white slacks and a black scoop-necked top that showed off her tanned arms but all at once she seemed much more likable than usual.
The girl cousins were competing at lugging the little ones here and there, staggering around with them as if Jin-Ho and Susan were giant dolls. Linwood was huddled in a corner glumly wolfing down his cake. The men were discussing baseball, and Pat and the two sisters-in-law were making more of the business of serving than seemed called for. Only Ziba and her parents, standing slightly to one side, appeared at loose ends. Bitsy went over to them. Did you get tea? she asked the Hakimis, although both were holding cups and saucers. Are you not having any cake?