Free A Bitter Veil by Libby Fischer Hellmann Page B

was pleased he’d been thinking of her. “I would like to. Until we have children, of course.” She smiled shyly.
    “Ah.” He grinned broadly. “You want children?”
    “Oh yes. At least three or four.” She had always wanted a brood of children, their sweet baby smell in her nose, their noise and laughter filling the house. She couldn’t wait to shower kisses on them when they skinned their knees and elbows, or woke up frightened from nightmares. She’d vowed that her children’s lives would be vastly different from her cold, antiseptic childhood.
    Baba-joon laughed. “I suppose you and Nouri will be quite busy.”
    Anna felt her cheeks get hot. She hoped she hadn’t made a faux pas. But Baba-joon was still grinning. “Well, until that blessed day arrives, what do you have in mind to do?”
    She spread her hands. “I don’t know. I was hoping to take some time and figure it out.”
    “The company I work for is always looking for people who speak and write English. Writing letters, translating, making phone calls, and what not. I realize you need to learn some Farsi, but if you’re interested I can make inquiries.”
    The oil company? Especially the one where Nouri’s father worked? Just how involved would Nouri’s family be in their lives? Anna hesitated. She knew better than to refuse. “I appreciate the offer, Baba-joon. Can we talk more after we’re settled?”
    “Of course. Take your time.”
    Anna swallowed. She’d only been in Iran a few hours, but she wondered how long it would take to feel at home.
     

Eleven
     
    Nouri snuck into Anna’s bed late that night, and they made muffled, secretive love, all the more erotic because of the need to be quiet. He fell asleep in the crook of her arm but woke at first light and crept back to his room.
    The next morning the family’s chauffeur drove them to Shemiran, a district at the northern fringe of Tehran’s city limits. One of the most beautiful areas of Tehran, Shemiran was once the summer residence of the Qajar and Pahlavi shahs, who built ornate palace complexes and villas. Now, though, with the population of Tehran exploding, Shemiran was slowly becoming part of Tehran’s northern suburbs. It was growing into an upscale neighborhood with stores, high-rises, and traffic. As always, the Alborz Mountains towered over everything. Although it looked different, Anna decided Shemiran was equivalent to Chicago’s North Shore.
    Eventually the car turned onto a narrow residential street where high walls surrounded everything. Anna was expecting an apartment building, but as they pulled up to an open gate, she saw a small house with a narrow brick front and columns flanking the door.
    Nouri climbed out and held the car door for Anna. She stared at the house. “This is our new home?”
    Nouri grinned. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
    “You knew?”
    “Yes, but this is the first time I’ve seen it.”
    Anna shook her head. “I don’t believe it,” she sputtered. “We can’t…I mean…what are…”
    Nouri placed his finger on her lips. “Shh.” He took her hand, and they walked through the gate. The first thing Anna saw was a tiny garden with an even tinier pool. Next she passed a chenar tree, then leafy green shrubs, between which there were bright flowers and grass.
    The house was three stories high, although the top floor was little more than a closet and loft with a sliding door that opened onto a roof. There were three bedrooms, two baths, hardwood floors, and elegant countertops. The smell of fresh paint hung in the air, and two workmen were nailing baseboards to the downstairs walls. Someone else was waxing the floors. Anna went into the kitchen. Aside from the new stove and refrigerator, there was a dishwasher. And a garbage disposal. Anna felt slightly dizzy, as if she’d walked into a dream.
    “So what do you think?” Nouri asked with a sly grin.
    She ran her hand over the snow-white kitchen counter. Every-thing was pristine,