Page 77 of Sapphire Spring

“Overrated.” Mason did a quick dive through the window andgave Naser a hard, brief kiss on the lips. His eyes were hidden behindaviator-style sunglasses, but Naser was pretty sure they’d cut to the constructionsite uphill during their brief lip lock. A giant wooden sign proclaimed theproperty asMore Dream Homes on the Way from WORTHER PROPERTIES. Behindit were the first makings of a guard gate entrance—lone columns of brown brick,still missing the metal gates that would probably close the gaps between them.The prospect that Mason’s dad might be hanging out somewhere nearby sent chillsthrough him—the wrong kind.

“Park and follow me,” Mason said.

When Naser stepped from his parked Volvo, he looked for theFerrari but saw the used Lexus Mason had driven to work that morning. When wasthe Ferrari coming back from the shop, he wondered? He followed the guy to aspot where he’d already laid out a blanket on a patch of dry grass.

As Naser carefully took a seat, there was a subtle woosh,and suddenly he was sitting in comfortable shade. Mason speared the umbrella’spole into the hard, packed dirt next to the blanket. “Don’t worry. I alreadychecked for snakes.” He smiled like an explorer having just planted his flag ona newly discovered island. “They probably won’t be out for another month ortwo. The bad ones, anyway.” He sank to his knees.

“Wow. You really thought this through.”

“I thought it might be a little too hot given we don’t haveocean winds here. But it’spretty cool, right?”

“Very cool. I mean, I’m not the biggest outdoors personunless it’s, like,SizdahBe-dar.”

Mason removed two paper plates from inside the picnic basketand set about assembling their lunches. “And that would be?”

“The thirteenth day of Nowruz. Technically, it marks the endof the holiday, but it’s when everybody gets together and picnics outside andtalks smack about what everybody wore for all the other events.”

“No offense, but whatisNowruz? I’ve asked Persianpeople over the years, and they get cagey on the subject.”

“Cagey?”

“Oh, you know. They’ll just compare it to other things. Likethey’ll say, ‘Oh, it’s like Persian New Year’s, or Persian Christmas. OrPersianNascar.’”

“Nascar?”

“Okay, I made that one up, but you know what I mean.”

“There’s no car racing involved.”

“Sure, but whatisinvolved?”

“Well, it’s a new year’s holiday that marks the first monthon the Iranian solar calendar, but it’s about new growth. New life. The firstevent is usually a gathering at somebody’s house. Most Persians will set upsomething called a haft-sin table in their living room. It’s got seven items onit, and in Persian, the name of each one starts with an S. Typically they allhave something to do with rebirth and renewal.”

“Nice.”

“And then you eat dinner at four in the morning.”

Mason stopped loading the plate in his hand.“What?”

“Okay, it’s notalwaysfour in the morning, butyou’re supposed to gather and do something formal at the exact moment when thesun crosses the equator during the vernal equinox. Which means here in the US,it can be four in the morning. And not everyone eats dinner. Sometimes you juststand over the table and read Persian poetry at the exact moment the equinoxhappens. But my mom’s a great cook, so usually there’s a meal involved.”

“That sounds intense.”

“It’s not really. You justhave toschedule accordingly. And you’re just eating. It’s not like you finish it alloff with a round of lawn bowling.”

Mason went back to preparing a plate. “That’s a shame.Ihaven’t lawn bowled since I was aweebairn.”

“You’ve lawn bowled?”

“No. I have no idea what you’re even talking about. What’slawn bowling?”

“I don’t know. I was just trying to say something thatsounded like the worst idea ever on a full stomach at five in the morning afteryou’ve been up most of the night with your family. The point is, my mother’sdinner is always casual and lovely, the food is amazing, andaslong asmy mother and sister don’t end up screaming at each other,everyone has a great time. Then we spend the rest of the season paying visitsto elders, but most of our family’s elders are still in Iran, so my motherwould take us to visit her older friends. The intense part isactuallychaharshanbesuri.”

“What’s that made with?” Mason handed him a plate withenough food on it to last him several days. Naser smiled and set it down on theblanket next to him.

“It’s not a dish, handsome. It’s fire jumping. It’s apurification ceremony we do the last Wednesday before Nowruz.”

“Cool. I didn’t realize jumping over fires was a Muslimtradition.”

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