Page 256 - And the Mountains Echoed (novel)

this work?”

We are passing by Redwood City on our way south. I reach across her lap and
point out the passenger window. “Do you see that building? The tall one with the
blue sign?”
“Yes?”
“I was born there.”
“Ah, bon?” She turns her neck to keep looking as I drive us past. “You are

lucky.”
“How so?”
“To know where you came from.”
“I guess I never gave it much thought.”

“Bah, of course not. But it is important to know this, to know your roots. To
know where you started as a person. If not, your own life seems unreal to you.
Like a puzzle. Vous comprenez? Like you have missed the beginning of a story
and now you are in the middle of it, trying to understand.”
I imagine this is how Baba feels these days. His life, riddled with gaps. Every
day a mystifying story, a puzzle to struggle through.
We drive in silence for a couple of miles.

“Do I find my work interesting?” I say. “I came home one day and found the
water running in the kitchen sink. There was broken glass on the floor, and the
gas burner had been left on. That was when I knew that I couldn’t leave him
alone anymore. And because I couldn’t afford a live-in caretaker, I looked for
work I could do from home. ‘Interesting’ didn’t figure much into the equation.”
“And art school can wait.”
“It has to.”

I worry she will say next how lucky Baba is to have me for a daughter, but, to
my relief and gratitude, she only nods, her eyes swimming past the freeway
signs. Other people, though—especially Afghans—are always pointing out how
fortunate Baba is, what a blessing I am. They speak of me admiringly. They
make me out to be a saint, the daughter who has heroically forgone some
glittering life of ease and privilege to stay home and look after her father. But,
first, the mother, they say, their voices ringing, I imagine, with a glistening kind
of sympathy. All those years of nursing her. What a mess that was. Now the
father. She was never a looker, sure, but she had a suitor. An American, he was,
the solar fellow. She could have married him. But she didn’t. Because of them.
The things she sacrificed. Ah, every parent should have a daughter like this.
They compliment me on my good humor. They marvel at my courage and