Page 84 of Absolute Certainty
“I most certainly was not,” he said, a subtle smile flirting with the corners of his mouth as he kicked her foot right back.
Eyes fixed back at their mum, Sahar added. “What about Jay? Was he quieter?”
“Definitely more than Alex. But he got in trouble in different ways. Getting him to do homework was a chore all throughout his school years. And he had a picky eating stage that drove me crazy.”
Sahar’s jaw dropped. “Really? The homework, I can imagine, but you don’t seem picky at all,” she aimed at him.
“I wasn’t picky,” he argued.
“You refused to eat anything but mac and cheese for two whole months. I couldn’t even sneak in a single vegetable, or you’d refuse to eat it.”
“When?”
Pursing her lips up in thought, she answered after a few seconds. “I want to say you were about five or six.”
“I don’t remember that,” Jay supplied.
“Yeah, you got better with food as you grew older, but your palate consisted of very little. It was deeply concerning for a while.”
He leaned back in the booth, taking a fry in his mouth. The side of his knee brushed against Sahar’s, and whether intentional or not, the familiarity made her heart flutter. Every single part of this lunch should’ve been awkward, and yet, it wasn’t. Not even a little. Was this how he felt with her friends the other night?She hoped.
“Thank God Ellie isn’t picky since none of you ever get Taco Bell with me.”
Disgust parked itself at the center of Jay’s face. “Why would I go to Taco Bell when I can get better Mexican food five minutes away from my house?”
“Best of both worlds. Live a little.”
He rolled his eyes.
Sahar laughed.
Elena’s voice echoed through the siblings' bickering. “Enough about you two. What about you, Sahar? Do you miss England while you’re here?”
“Loads, yeah. I miss my family and my mum’s cooking. There are some decent Persian restaurants here, but they don’t compare to her dishes.”
“Oh, I’m sure. This one refuses to eat any Greek food that isn’t mine,” she said, pointing to Alex.
Alex agreed. “Only in Greece, if we get to go together.”
“Were you born there?” Sahar asked Elena.
“Yes, my family immigrated to the States when I was seven.”
Smiling, Sahar added, “I love that. My uncle’s family now lives in Greece. I’ve always wanted to visit.”
“It’s a magical country, though I haven’t been back in many years.”
Again, it wasn’t her place to wonder whether it was because of her ex-husband, but she couldn’t help but think that it might be. Every sad, heartbreaking look felt like it was somehow linked to him. It contrasted with her own family’s relationship because one of the first things her father did when marrying her mother was visit Tehran to see where she’d grown up. He had also been the one to insist that both Sahar and Amina have Iranian names, allowing their mother to choose.
“I hope you get to go back soon. You, too, Alex,” she said finally.
Alex grinned.
Jay tapped his knee against hers again, like their own secret little language.
Hi.
Hi back.
