A Thousand Splendid Suns

it was as thick and coarse as ever. There was a sag now to his eyelids
and the skin of his neck, which was wrinkled and leathery. His cheeks
hung a bit more than they used to. In the mornings, he stooped just a
tad. But he still had the stout shoulders, the thick torso, the strong hands,
the swollen belly that entered the room before any other part of him did.
On the whole, Mariam thought that he had weathered the years
considerably better than she.
"We need to legitimize this situation," he said now, balancing the
ashtray on his belly. His lips scrunched up in a playful pucker. "People
will talk. It looks dishonorable, an unmarried young woman living here.
It's bad for my reputation. And hers. And yours, I might add."
"Eighteen years," Mariam said. "And I never asked you for a thing. Not
one thing. I'm asking now."
He inhaled smoke and let it out slowly. "She can't just stay here, if
that's what you're suggesting. I can't go on feeding her and clothing her
and giving her a place to sleep. I'm not the Red Cross, Mariam."
"But this?"
"What of it? What? She's too young, you think? She's fourteen. Hardly
a child. You were fifteen, remember? My mother was fourteen when she
had me. Thirteen when she married."
"I.. .Idon't want this," Mariam said, numb with contempt and
helplessness.
"It's not your decision. It's hers and mine."
"I'm too old."
"She's too young, you're too old. This is nonsense."
"I am too old. Too old for you to do this to me," Mariam said, balling up
fistfuls of her dress so tightly her hands shook. "For you, after all
these years, to make me an ambagh"
"Don't be so dramatic. It's a common thing and you know it. I have