A Thousand Splendid Suns

1 hey sat across from her, Jalil and his wives, at a long, dark brown
table. Between them, in the center of the table, was a crystal vase of
fresh marigolds and a sweating pitcher of water. The red-haired woman
who had introduced herself as Niloufar's mother, Afsoon, was sitting on
Jalil's right. The other two, Khadija and Nargis, were on his left. The
wives each had on a flimsy black scarf, which they wore not on their
heads but tied loosely around the neck like an afterthought. Mariam, who
could not imagine that they would wear black for Nana, pictured one of
them suggesting it, or maybe Jalil, just before she'd been summoned.
Afsoon poured water from the pitcher and put the glass before Mariam
on a checkered cloth coaster. "Only spring and it's warm already," she
said. She made a fanning motion with her hand.
"Have you been comfortable?" Nargis, who had a small chin and curly
black hair, asked. "We hope you've been comfortable. This…
ordeal…must be very hard for you. So difficult."
The other two nodded. Mariam took in their plucked eyebrows, the thin,
tolerant smiles they were giving her. There was an unpleasant hum in
Mariam's head. Her throat burned. She drank some of the water.
Through the wide window behind Jalil, Mariam could see a row of
flowering apple trees. On the wall beside the window stood a dark
wooden cabinet. In it was a clock, and a framed photograph of Jalil and
three young boys holding a fish. The sun caught the sparkle in the fish's
scales. Jalil and the boys were grinning.