Moon Daughter Read online

  Mr. Eskandary shook his head. “Most divorces are either initiated by the husband or based on mutual agreement. Granted, there are cases that are settled in court, but most of those are far more serious than yours,” he said and immediately explained his meaning. “Don’t get me wrong. I do understand the seriousness of your case. But I’m looking at this strictly from the legal standpoint.”

  “Surely we must have laws against a man who abandons his wife and children,” her father said.

  The lawyer nodded. “Indeed, we do. But Major Moradi hasn’t done that, has he?”

  Rana moved to the edge of her seat. “How do you define abandonment?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “Just because I have a roof over my head and food on my plate, am I to assume I’ve been taken care of? What about his other—” Tears would not let her finish.

  “I understand, dear,” the old attorney said. “But the law isn’t clear on that. As long as you are provided for and there’s no evidence of abuse or endangerment, the law assumes him to be a good husband.”

  “What about his second marriage?” her father said. “I thought it was illegal nowadays to have more than one wife.”

  Mr. Eskandary looked down at his hands and did not respond.

  “Well, isn’t it?”

  The attorney continued to tap the paper with his pen and remained silent without looking up.

  “I don’t understand,” Rana said.

  The old lawyer sighed. “First, you must remember this is still a Muslim country. That means, no matter how much you and I may disagree with multiple marriages, and despite all the clauses that are attached, most folks consider it a man’s right to take more than one wife. Still, the law would have been on your side, except I think your husband must have known that.” He looked up at Dr. Ameli and then at Rana. “He never registered his second marriage.”

  “What?” Rana interrupted. She might not understand all the fancy legal terms, but knew exactly what he was saying. “I know for a fact that they are married, that he bought her a house.” She hesitated then added in a whisper, “They are even about to have a child.”

  Dead silence followed her last sentence. Rana was too embarrassed to look at the men, but she could feel her father’s surprised stare.

  The lawyer waited for her to calm down before he added, “I have investigated the situation, and you’re right. Major Moradi sounds like a devout Muslim, at least more so than most of his peers.”

  “I’m not sure what this means,” Dr. Ameli said.

  “Such a man would not live in sin, nor would he want to have a child out of wedlock. But my informer in Shiraz tells me that they simply had a religious ceremony, which explains why there’s no record of such a marriage.” He paused as if to let that information sink in before adding, “In the eyes of God, he has married two of the four wives a Muslim man is allowed, but where the law is concerned, he has but one legal wife.” He looked at Rana. “You.”

  Rana wasn’t prepared for this turn of events. She knew nothing about the law, but with each added word the attorney only made this matter sound more complicated.

  Dr. Ameli broke the silence. “What about the house he bought? If the rumor holds any truth, that would make the woman his paid mistress. Could Rana file for divorce on the ground that he has been unfaithful to her and taken a different home with another woman?”

  The old attorney did not appear to be fazed by this. He was quiet for a few seconds and finally said, “I’ve checked into that. The house belongs to her.” He waved a hand in the air. “Some of the money came from the sale of her old home, and her grandmother left her a handsome inheritance as well.” His face took on a more serious look. “In short, it doesn’t look as if she’d need his money.”

  Rana resented the lawyer’s respectful tone. If that woman was so high and mighty, why would she steal her husband?

  Her father’s voice broke the awkward moment. “I still don’t know what’s to be gained by Rana running away.”

  The lawyer finished the last sip of his tea. “Her rights,” he finally said. “I’ve dealt with men like Major Moradi. Under normal circumstances, they can be civil, even admirable. But this is war and he’s not trained to lose wars.” He took another look at his notes. “Consider it an educated guess, but Moradi will never agree to a divorce. More than that, experience tells me that if he as much as suspects your intentions of staying abroad, he will deny you his consent for traveling.” He gave Rana an embarrassed look as if to apologize for the law. “You do know that you will need his written permission in order to leave the country.”

  She nodded.

  “He has several reasons for wanting to stay married to you. First of all, respect.” He counted each reason by bending one of his fingers and holding it down with the other hand. “Men often tend to stay married to the mother of their children because that gains them social respect.” He bent another finger. “Even if he did not care for you at all, which at this point we’re not certain of, he will do what he can to prevent you from marrying another. And third, he knows that a divorce will cost him dearly.” He opened his hand again and leaned back. “I’ve seen men play all kinds of tricks to weasel out of that. And if you should pressure him, he won’t hesitate to use emotional weapons.” He paused before adding, “Your daughters, for instance.”

  “He wouldn’t dare!”

  “Let’s be realistic,” the old lawyer said with sympathy and he leaned over the desk. “Don’t forget, my dear, this is war.”

  “I will die before I give up my children.” Rana said and buried her face in both hands.

  Dr. Ameli put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re just talking, my dear. Let’s hear what Mr. Eskandary has to say.”

  The meeting lasted several hours, and by the time they left, Rana had cried all the tears that she had tamed for weeks. The more Mr. Eskandary spoke, the more sense his suggestion made. At the conclusion, Rana agreed to think about it and they set another appointment for the following week.

  “No need to remind you of confidentiality,” Mr. Eskandary said again. “Secrecy is of vital importance in such a sensitive case.” He hesitated as if to search for the right words before lowering his voice. “In fact, I don’t even see a need for Mrs. Ameli to be bothered with any of this.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” her father assured him. “My wife couldn’t handle the pressure. It would be best if she doesn’t know.”

  Rana shook Mr. Eskandary’s hand. “Thank you,” she said and found it ironic to be thanking the man who had just taken away her last hope.

  The restaurant at the Intercontinental Hotel wasn’t half as busy as Dr Ameli had thought it would be. With the number of tourists from around the world and thousands of Americans the Shah lured with a variety of well-paid jobs, hotels that catered to the Western taste enjoyed a booming business. The Intercontinental was one of the first to offer a buffet brunch that consisted of both Persian and European cuisine. Unaccustomed to a “ brunch,” most Iranians went there for lunch. Rana used to like their food, and Dr. Ameli recalled the few occasions when Rana had helped at the office and he had taken her there as a treat. Now her mood was somber and she looked as if the thought of food could make her sick. They were shown to a less crowded area at the far end of the large room. Soon a waiter came to take their orders for drink. Dr. Ameli asked for a glass of wine, but Rana said water was fine.

  “What am I going to do, Papa?” Rana said and sounded relieved to pose the question that must have been on her mind during the long ride from the lawyer’s office.

  Dr. Ameli unfolded his linen napkin and spread it neatly on his lap. Indeed, what would she do? Days and days of that agonizing question had failed to offer him Areasonable answer. “I don’t know,” he said. “All I can say is that I fully trust Eskandary. He’ll find a way.”

  Rana bunched her napkin in her fist. “That’s what I’m worried about,” she said. “He’s a really nice man, but I�
�m not sure about his plan.”

  Dr. Ameli felt a pressure in his chest. Funny how medicine attributed all emotions to portions of the brain, denying any such connection to the heart, because each time something bothered him, he felt the pain right where his heart was. Lately, the mere thought of what his daughter had to go through gave him that pain and it had only become fiercer.

  He looked at her and nodded reassuringly. “I’m certain that as you get to know him better, you’ll also learn to trust him.” He nodded again. “Believe me, you will.” He thought for a moment. “Let’s focus on a plan to get you and the baby to Europe.”

  Rana stared at him in shock. “Leave Marjan and Vida behind?”

  How alike they were. The week before, when Eskandary had proposed the plan in private, that exact question had come to his mind, too. It had taken him days to agree. He hoped that time would also help Rana to reach some level of acceptance. He now regretted not having prepared her.

  “Well, he didn’t exactly suggest leaving them, did he?” Looking at Rana, he knew she was waiting for more. “You can take them along. Or you could leave them here and we shall send them to you down the line, when you’re settled.” He hoped his words did not sound as unsure as he felt.

  “Exactly!” Rana exclaimed. “It’s that line that I worry about. How long will that be, assuming it has an end?”

  Dr. Ameli shared some of that concern, so he decided not to even attempt to come up with an answer.

  “Could you just put yourself in my place for a moment, Papa? We’re not Europeans who send their babies away to school. A child needs her family. I can’t keep just one and hope for the best with the other two. Could you ever pick and choose among your children?”

  There was that pain again. “No, I couldn’t,” he said in all honesty. Then realizing that such confessions would not help Rana at this point, he added, “And neither will you.” He leaned closer across the table. “You’re getting this all wrong, my dear. Nobody is asking you to give up your children. It will only be a temporary separation, only until we figure out a way to send them to you. Think about it. I may play dumb, but I understand what you’re going through. I’ve seen how uncomfortable you are even now, being here with us. But we’re all doing what we have to do to make sure this problem is resolved.”

  “Why can’t I just move back to Tehran, get my own place, and live with my children?”

  She had either seen too many movies and read too many novels, or didn’t want to face the reality of how this society worked.

  “Let’s look at the situation objectively, Rana. People frown on a young woman getting her own apartment, and you wouldn’t want to give up your dignity.” He gave her a few seconds to understand. “In our society, a single woman is easy gossip. So, if you want to be independent, you’re going to have to find a place where people are more open-minded.”

  He was right. That kind of woman was also the type who stole another’s husband. She could never live with entire neighborhoods talking about her. “W here am I going to go, Papa? How will we survive?”

  He hesitated a moment before answering. “New as this proposition may sound to you, I’ve known about it for a few days. Eskandary discussed his plan with me a week ago. So, I’ve had time to think it over.”

  “You knew this?” And she sounded outraged.

  “Well, to be honest, I had hoped he might come up with a better plan. But I also needed time to figure out a way to go about it, just in case.”

  Her hazel eyes now stared back in harsh realization. He also saw there something he had never seen before, a doubt, even distrust. Unused to such misgivings, he diverted his attention to the napkin on his lap and needlessly smoothed it. “Your aunt Malak lives alone in America. I’ve seen her house. It’s big enough,” he said and looked at other tables, pretending to not notice the angry look she shot him. “Of course, I’ll have to check with her and make sure.”

  “America? Why not Mars, Papa?” She gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, let me guess. You don’t know anyone there who’d take pity on your daughter and offer shelter.”

  “Stop it,” he said softly and shot her a hurt look. “We’re only talking at this point.”

  “No, Papa, we’re not just talking. We’re informing Rana of a convenient plan her father and his lawyer friend have come up with, a plot to toss her across the universe!”

  Rana’s voice rose with those last words and a blonde couple, who were about to take the next table, turned to look.

  Dr. Ameli had never seen such an outburst from Rana. Had motherhood strengthened her character, or was it years of life with a military man that had hardened her so? He felt a sharp blade inside him, turning with each word she said, with each painful glance she gave him. Ever since the lawyer suggested this plan, Dr. Ameli was tormented with all kinds of new thoughts. If Rana moved abroad, he would not see her for long periods of time, he would have to travel across the globe to visit his grandchildren, and even assuming they’d remain connected, he was sure to miss many precious milestones in their lives. Such agonizing prophecies kept him up at night. But as daylight had pushed the darkness away, it had also wiped away his doubts. He needed to be strong for the both of them. “I’m sorry you see it that way,” he said softly, lovingly.

  “Would you just listen to yourself? How can you ask me to move across the globe, tear my children away from everyone they know, and go live with an aunt I haven’t seen in years? Even if I could do it, how am I going to finance all this?”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said and welcomed the change of subject. “We’ll just pretend you were never married and I’ll take care of your educational expenses.”

  “Education?” she said with an angry laugh. “I barely got through high school. All I have left of that is basic literacy.” She shrugged. “Sorry, Papa. It’s too late for that.”

  “It’s never too late for an education,” he said and smiled light-heartedly. “How else are you going to pay me back?”

  Rana frowned and turned her face away. “That’s very generous, but it’s out of the question. I can’t take your money.”

  “If you don’t want to make the effort, then maybe you’re prepared to live with the situation as is.” He waved a hand in the air. “Go ahead and stay in that awful marriage for the rest of your life if you want, but first stop for a moment and think about what that means. This isn’t just about you.” He grabbed her hand in both of his and pleaded, “What will happen to your daughters?” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Will they have to hang their heads in shame because their father is a bigamist?”

  Rana sat straight. So far, all references to the Major’s lifestyle had been vague. Absorbed in her own misery, it looked as if Rana had never thought about how the shame of Moradi’s transgression might affect their children. Dr. Ameli regretted being the one who drew her attention to this, but someone had to. He continued with a lowered voice while maintaining the harsh tone. “What kind of a miserable mother and how much of a part-time father will they have?” He fought back his reluctance and threw the last stone. “And what happens to you if this woman bears him a son?”

  In the long silence that fell, he listened to the hum of conversations and the clanking of dishes nearby. I should never have agreed to this marriage. That nagging thought never left him alone. He should have seen the signs and done something about it much earlier in the game. Now all he had was regret, even guilt. W hen he spoke again it was as if his words were the tears he had been unable to shed. “Don’t you ever go thinking this is easy for your old father.”

  He took a sip of water while Rana bent her head and stared at her clasped hands. He watched the top of her head, that shiny brown hair parted in the middle, and thought of when she was a little girl. Oh, how hard she made it for him not to pick a favorite! His other three always had an answer for the troubles they got into. But not Rana. If he ever found the heart to scold her, she just hung her head in shame. W here did the time
go when all she needed to make things right was a good hug?

  “I can’t imagine anyone refusing my money when I’m gone. So why not make good use of it while I’m around?” He stopped because he could tell she was about to cry.

  Their server came back with the drinks and they remained silent until he had gone.

  “I’m getting older, Rana-jan,” he said and thought his voice sounded as broken as he felt. “I won’t be around forever.” He blew the air out of his lungs. “God only knows how I wish this had never happened. But the wrong is done and nothing I can do will make it right.”

  “He’ll never let us leave.”

  “Oh? And who’s asking his permission?” He gave a sad smile.

  Rana dabbed her eyes and returned his smile.

  “We do have ridiculous laws,” he went on. “Requiring the husband’s consent for an exit permit is one of them. But there are ways to get around that.”

  “Run away?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “But let’s assume things cool down. Then who is to say you couldn’t take the baby to America for a pre-arranged medical consultation?”

  Rana stared at him, her mouth half open.

  “Especially if such a recommendation should come from her pediatrician and my good friend, Dr. Fard.”

  Rana seemed intrigued.

  “The good doctor would do it if I asked him nicely,” he went on. “And I believe that may take care of your husband’s suspicions. What father would stand in the way of his child’s health?” He chuckled before adding, “It’s a deceptive plan, I know. But a small price for your freedom, don’t you think?”

  “What about Vida and Marjan? Surely you don’t expect me to leave them behind.”

  “Of course not. It’ll be a nice summer holiday for them, too.” He smiled knowingly.

  Rana shook her head. “You don’t know Farhad the way I do, Papa. If he suspects anything, he’ll make sure I live to regret it. If he hates one thing, it’s losing a battle.”