Page 90 of Sapphire Spring

“Dating? Hmmm. Maybe. More like I’ve been spending the nightat his house a lot. I don’t know what to call it. It’s a thing, it keepshappening, and Connor’s already threatened the guy’s life if he hurts me. Oh,and I brought him Persian food.Soit’s clearly…athing, I think.”

Pari gasped. Naser wondered ifIt’s a Thing, I Thinkwouldmake a suitable title for a pop song about love. After a second or two, hecouldn’t imagine it coming out of the mouth of Harry Styles, so he let the ideago.

“What I’m saying is that even though I don’t know what it is,it’s moving very fast.”

“You must tell me everything.” Pari patted the cushions nextto her.

“Tell Maman and I’ll throw you out a window after yourphone.”

“I won’t. But only if you tell me everything.”

Andsohe did. It felt strange butalso good, pouring out his heart to his sister. He’d never done it before onthe topic of men. Had always assumed she wouldn’t have the patience for anystory about his life that lasted longer than thirty seconds. Maybe she only hadthe patience for it now because it made her feel better about accepting Mason’smoney—if shedidfinally accept Mason’s money. But it felt good to belistened to, close to her, good to be able to pull her back from the brink ofself-destructive fantasies with a story about himself.

A story that was true. And complete.

When he was done, she was beaming, her tears anafterthought. She reached across the little distance between them, cupping oneof his cheeks in her hand. “Oh, I’m so happy for you.” He braced himself for agooey platitude about finding love. “You are finally doing somethinginteresting. My perfect little brother might make a complete mess of his perfectlittle life.” She clapped her hands together. “This is growth! I am proud ofyou, Naser-joon.”

“Soyou’re going to take Mason’s money?”

Pari sat up straight and slapped her knees with her hands.“Absolutely. Now I have the perfect cover story. If Maman finds out, I can justsay you were blinded by lust, and I went along for the ride. You’ll be the oneshe yells at for a change. I can’t wait. I’ll make us some food.” And likethat, his sister was on her feet and headed for the kitchen, her tearful monologueforgotten.

“You really are special, you knowthat,Pari?”

“I do,” she replied somberly, pulling pots and pans from thekitchen cabinets. “It’s just a matter of securing the right distributor soeveryone else knows too.” She opened her fridge. “I have no food! We’ll have togo out.”

25

When it became clear his eveningplans had been delayed, Shirley enlisted Mason to visit a nearby hospital with asmall group of sober folks. An old friend of hers had relapsed the previous weekendand driven his car into a telephone pole. Physically, the guy was recoveringnicely, but according to Shirley, his wife, who’d been pacing nervously outsidehis room when they showed up, was poised to pack up and leave if the guy didn’tclean up his act for good. Their little impromptu AA meeting—which consisted ofthem gathering in a small circle around the man’s bed and saying the SerenityPrayer before they read various passages from theBig Book—had endedwith the man in tears, clutching his wife’s hand and vowing to get back in theprogram.

As they’d filed out of the hospital, Mason had felt thatspecial kind of joy that came from linking hands with other sober people andpushing back against the darkness that plagued them all.

And according to his last text, Naser was on his way southagain, which made Mason feel like he was flying.

Life was good.

He felt like a paragon of mental health.

Then he saw Chadwick’s bright orange Maserati parked outsidehis garage, and in an instant his heart wasthunderingand his palms had greased the steering wheel.

Mason parked and got out.

“What the fuck, man?” was Chadwick’s greeting.

“Chadwick, I told you I—”

“You moved my key! Where’s my key?”

“It’s actuallymykey, C.”

“Wait, where’s the Ferrari?”

“I sold it.”

“Sold it? For this piece ofshit?Did you hit your head or something?”

“It’s late, man. Seriously. I’m not up for a party tonight.”

“You see a party? I’ve been texting you all week. I’m hereto find out if my best friend’s rocking back and forth in a corner, picking atscabs andshit.”

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