Hana, suddenly depressed, left the room and when she lay on bed in her closet- like room, a flood of tears rushed down her face. Missing her father terribly on her combined birthday and engagement, she exasperatedly pondered over the abyss of inevitability that seemed so unreal as though she was dreaming. She prayed that some strange thing would happen between men that Uncle Nabi could not tolerate it and throw all of these people out of the house. So strange to fight to achieve something and when you succeed, you pray for it to not go through! Hana's tears were more for her dad and Van and some for herself by creating a dark trap that now she was seeing it clearly.
Shortly after, her mom, who had noticed Hana's disappearance, knocked on the door, and without waiting, opened the door.
"What is it? Why are you crying?" Her voice sound sad and melancholy.
Hana sat on the bed and looked at her mom, who had become a widow at such a young age, who faced all the responsibilities without a partner, and who had suffered the tragedy of Van's capture by Savak. Somehow Hana felt a distraught confusion. She noticed her mom's red eyes and glowing cheeks, which always been a sign of sadness.
"What about you, mom? Why are you sad?" Hana's words were like a heavy blow for the solitary widow.
Gol sat on the bed after a minute of silence. Two women instinctively got closer and soon they both were hugging. Each had her head on other's shoulder.
"I miss dad, mom, I..."
"I miss him, too, sweetheart.'
When Sorie, uncle Nabi's wife opened the door to look for the hosts, she found the mother and daughter crying and hugging each other.
"What is wrong?" Sorie asked; but did not get any answer. Among the women in her family, Hana had always been close to Sorie. If she could not say a secret to Behroz, Sorie was her next choice. She was only six years older than Hana; and they already had three children. Hana loved her cousins; and always find a confidant in her aunt.
"You need to come downstairs." Sorie's words broke both mother and daughter's beautiful, yet sad moment together.
The rest of the day passed by by bargaining over Mehrieh. ( The amount of monetary compensation that the future husband will have to pay his wife in the case of a divorce. Mehrieh supposed to be an efficient insurance in a culture that there are not many alternatives for women after divorce. The controversy subject takes a lot of negotiation and sometimes results one side or both to call off the wedding. While for Iranians a high Mehrieh is a sign of status, for many others, like intellectuals or real religious types, a small token or a copy of the holy book, Koran, does the job.)
Hamid's mother, in a very disgusting way, while being aloof to everyone, as if she was better than Hana's family who were all simply dressed and did not have fifty kilogram of gold and diamond hanging from them, said:
"When I married Agha, (means sir. That is how she called her husband) my Mehrieh was ten thousand tomans( Iranian money). It has to be the same for this girl marrying my son." Her tone of voice was so offensive and rude that if a stranger, who did not know the situation, was there, he would think they were doing a favor to accept Hana as their son's wife.
Uncle Nabi, in response to her, while trying very hard to control his anger, said:
"Lady, you married thirty years ago. Things have changed since then. If you can't accept our offer of fifty thousand tomans, the engagement is off."
Suddenly Hamid, who had been quiet the entire time, screamed at her mother:
"Mother, what did I tell you at home? Can you just stay quiet and let men handle this. She is marrying me, and I say fifty thousand tomans."
When Hana finally lost her patience for being referred to as "this girl", and being priced like a bag of potato, the blazing fire in her eyes brought all astounded people to a sudden halt. Her anger was boiling to a degree that she could harm someone at that point. She thought this is the best time to get out of this whole thing. How can she become family with these people? The only sane persons amongst them were Amir and his wife, Hamid's uncle and aunt.When she opened her mouth, she wanted to say: "The wedding is off. Get out of my house." But instead, she said:
"It's enough. What is wrong with you people? I am not for sale." She was agitated at herself as she had never been of not being able to say what really she wanted to say.
Uncle Nabi got up from his chair and walked to her and held her hand and made her to follow her to the hall way. There, first he hugged her and then, being always a business man, said:
"Sweetheart, this is custom. It had been like this for ever." Uncle Nabi's voice was almost to a whisper. He did not want anyone to hear him; but Hana's answer was so loud that everyone in the room heard her.
"I don't care what the custom is. I'm not for sale; and I want that woman out of my home." Why didn't she say what really was in her mind. "I want out of this engagement." If she had said it, uncle Nabi, himself threw these shameless people out of his sister's home. Why didn't she?
A great brawl after insulting words of Hana for her future mother-in-law broke in; while Khanom (means lady, that is how they called Hamid's mother) was about to leave, and Hamid and his father were trying to stop her.
An hour later, when everyone was leaving, Hana looked at her ring in her finger, and thought:
"Hamid must love me very much to defend me in front of his mother and even at one point told her to shut up." A warm, unknown feeling entered her body. She imagined herself in a wedding gown on their wedding's day, six months from now. What she did not know was that Hamid already thinking of a revenge against this self- sufficient girl who insulted them all that night; even though it first came from his side.
To Be Continued
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