PROMPTLY at seven, Nick and his old prep school friend arrived for dinner. Farzad Qajar was as debonair as Aiden had pictured him. A hint of rust showed in his salt and pepper hair, trimmed to accentuate his square jaw and highlight his large ebony eyes. Dressed in a dark suit and open-necked white shirt, Farzad looked ready for a reception at a country club rather than their small gathering in a modest Montana rancher.
He was fiftyish, about Nick’s age, and demonstrated the manners learned at an elite private school. Aiden wondered how to ask him to take off his shoes, but he began to slip off his black loafers before Nick kicked off his cowboy boots. Aiden supposed Persians, like other Asians, were accustomed to removing their shoes before entering a home.
While Farzad looked everyone directly in the eyes during the handshakes, he glanced away from Conrad, as if shocked by his frail appearance. Conrad, a fresh buzz cut to conceal the expanding bald spots and his shape lost inside his wool sweater and chino pants, slumped back into the easy chair, either unaware or unconcerned by Farzad’s subtle spurn.
Farzad’s cheeks darkened, perhaps tinted by the heat from the fireplace. Aiden was right in believing that he was a man who might require special attention. Then he recalled the story of how Nick and his school buddies taunted Farzad for his royal bloodline, and how much Farzad had savored being treated like one of the boys. Aiden made a point to do the same.
“What can I get you guys? We’re fully stocked. Name it and we got it.”
“I’ll have my usual scotch and soda tonight,” Nick said.
“I’d like a vodka and orange juice, if you have any,” Farzad said, giving Ranger an obligatory head pat when he sniffed him.
“I said if you name it, we got it,” Aiden said with a singsong voice, and he retrieved their drinks while Daniel led them into the living area. They rarely drank anything alcoholic besides beer, but Aiden wanted to prepare a grander spread for Nick’s special friend. Yesterday while shopping, Aiden telephoned Nick to ask what his friend’s drink was, but Nick couldn’t recall, so Aiden bought a bottle of nearly everything.
From the kitchen Aiden listened in on the conversation, and now and then he glanced through the pass-through. Daniel, seated on the rocker, asked Farzad how he was enjoying his visit. Farzad mentioned the amazing beauty of the area and how, if he knew better, he would have come earlier and extended his visit.
“Business means nothing when surrounded by such scenery,” he said. “Next time I will bring my family.”
“What business brings you here?” Daniel asked.
“I’m attending a software conference. This area is booming with small start-ups. Once I graduated from Dartmouth, I started my own company, which now seems like many years ago.”
“Dartmouth?” Conrad exclaimed. “That’s a fancy school.”
Pouring the drinks, Aiden grinned. Since his scolding yesterday, Conrad had sulked and acted more reserved. But he always perked up in the company of Nick.
Aiden brought in the drinks on a tray while Farzad stated he enjoyed attending Dartmouth, but learned more from on-the-job training after graduating. “Nothing can replace real life experiences,” he said, taking a drink from Aiden’s tray. A subtle scent of spicy cologne emanated from under his sleeve.
“Farzad was one of the trailblazers of the software innovations in the early nineties,” Nick said, the second to reach for his drink. “Now he heads one of the largest computer companies on the East Coast.”
“I’m fascinated with people who run their own companies,” Aiden said, sitting on the floor by Daniel’s feet once he served everyone. “Daniel has a woodshop here in Rose Crossing.”
“Carpentry? Wonderful.” Farzad sipped his screwdriver. “I’ve always admired those who can use their hands.”
“I learned my trade on the job too,” Daniel said.
“It might interest you to know, Farzad,” Nick said, “that Daniel was raised Amish.”
Farzad’s dark eyes grew wider. “You don’t say. Amish?”
“And in many ways he’s still very much Amish,” Nick said. “Just look at his beard.”
Aiden knew Daniel did not like to talk about his being raised Amish. It led to why he’d left. Although to some, the answer was clear. Two men living together in a home far from any large city most likely were gay. Aiden was unsure how much Nick had enlightened Farzad or if he were astute enough to figure out Aiden and Daniel were a couple. Behind Aiden, Daniel cleared his throat. Gazing up at him, Aiden couldn’t help but chortle.
“I know about the Amish in America but have never met any face-to-face,” Farzad said. “I’m quite interested in learning more about your former ways.”
“I’m just as interested in your life,” Daniel said. “Do you dislike having your photograph taken too? I hear that is the case with Muslims like with the Amish.”
Farzad laughed. “We’re interested in each other’s cultures, yet I suspect we share many similarities, like hating to have our pictures taken. It has to do with the belief that only God should make human images.”
“We also think of it as haughty,” Daniel said.
Aiden noticed Daniel glimpse toward the mantel where his and Daniel’s portrait sat. Farzad also caught Daniel’s swift eye movement, and his own eyes stopped on the photograph taken inside Glacier National Park, with Aiden and Daniel smiling and arms wrapped around each other. Farzad roved his head toward Aiden and Daniel, then back to the photograph. His lips moved, but no words emerged. He turned his gaze to his lap and he seemed to flush.
“What’s Iran like?” Aiden said, wanting to sweep away any sudden awkwardness, whether real or imagined.
“I wish I could tell you something,” Farzad said, his smile returning. “I came over when I was young and can recall only fragments. Most of what I remember could have taken place in New Jersey or Oklahoma.”
“I filled in the boys about your famous family, Farzad.”
“I’m proud of my family’s heritage but that means nothing here in America,” Farzad said. “I prefer it that way. I’ve made my way like anyone else. You see, my family’s fortune was taken from us, and the relatives I lived with in Iran only had so much. Once I left Albany School, I was to find my own way, like any American. And I’m proud to say as of two years ago I finally became a full-fledged US citizen.”
“What do you know,” Nick cried. “Why didn’t you ever say anything before, Farzad?”
“I suppose I didn’t want to be prideful.” He flashed Daniel a light smile. “I am Amish that way too.”
They all joined in congratulating Farzad and raised their glasses to toast the newest American among them.
Farzad lowered his eyes and his cheeks darkened in typical Far Eastern modesty. “My wife, three daughters, and two grandchildren are all American. I told myself, it’s about time I become one too.”
He again glanced around the house, this time showcasing an unabashed sense of curiosity. His inquisitiveness eclipsed his earlier reserve. Aiden imagined suddenly Farzad’s daughters having given him quite a headache growing up in suburban America. Briefly, Aiden yearned to ask for details.
But he squashed his inquisitive reporter’s desire to know every dirty secret. Living with Daniel, he learned to appreciate the value of a person’s privacy. Aiden thought Farzad might make an interesting interview subject if destiny brought them into each other’s company again.
“Where in Iran are you originally from?” Aiden asked him.
“North of Tehran.” Farzad’s bashfulness returned. His face shined from the firelight. He set his glass in his lap and licked his lips. “I was raised by friends of my aunt and uncle after they left for France. I was supposed to meet them there but then the Shah was exiled to the United States and a new bout of anti-Americanism engulfed Parisians, most of whom were hostile to the wealthy, and prompted my relatives, like most of their class, to flee for America. You know the French. While they were protesting America’s involvement in Vietnam, their own military was massacring millions of Algerians. My family thought it best that I get as far from the ruckus as possible and they enrolled me in a school in the middle of the United States. Albany Ridge School, where I met Nick.”
“Must have been scary living through a revolution,” Daniel said.
“Like I said, I don’t recall much about it,” Farzad responded to Daniel’s sincere statement. “But I assure you I could not have been afraid. It’s not in my family to fear. Don’t assume that my responsibilities as a businessman mean I cannot defend myself. I learned Varzesh-e-Bastani, Iranian martial arts, soon after I could walk.”
“We never knew about this in school.” Nick snickered. “We ribbed him for being from royalty and yet little did we know how close we came to him beating us into pulp. He never once threatened us with his skills, or shared his abilities. What do you all think of that?”
“I was afraid of hurting you,” Farzad said with a chuckle. And the company laughed. With Nick, Farzad seemed more relaxed, almost submissive to him, perhaps reliving the schoolboy taunts that had come at him with good intentions.
“We were such innocent, silly kids back then,” Nick said with a downturn of his mouth.
“And now you’re successful entrepreneurs,” Conrad said, his voice revealing the slightest suggestion of sarcastic envy.
“And who isn’t who graduated from the Albany Ridge School?” Farzad said.
Nick shrugged and chuckled. “I’m an old horse farmer, barely able to sell a broomtail. What success am I?”
“You’ve done more than that, Nick Pfeifer. Don’t you tell your friends here about what you’ve accomplished?”
“Why would anyone care? I’ve done nothing special.”
Aiden became more intrigued with Nick than he did their exotic guest, and he could tell that Daniel, with his coffee-brown eyes pinned on Nick, had also grown interested. Their neighbor was a welcome addition to their lives, yet they knew very little about him. As gregarious as he was, he seldom spoke about his life before moving to Montana.
They waited what seemed a long while for Farzad Qajar to continue to reveal more about Nick. Conrad jumped in, unrestrained by Aiden and Daniel’s tacit understanding that Nick favored his privacy. “What did he do before raising horses?”
“Nick was one of the most successful prosecutors in Tulsa,” Farzad said with a gentle nod of his head. “You never mentioned it, Nick?”
An attorney. Aiden never imagined. They knew he’d gone to Stanford, but when Aiden had asked him what he’d majored in the night he spoke of his former college days, Nick had only mentioned he received a “useless” degree in the humanities. Farzad revealed a new side to Nick, and Aiden felt as if he had two strangers—perhaps three with Conrad—gathered around him.
Nick flushed. He looked toward the fireplace and Aiden noticed his knuckles turning white where he grasped his glass. “I remember those days,” he said, shaking his head toward the flaming and smoking logs. “I’m glad I gave it up for something simpler.” Then he swept everyone a tremulous smirk. “I was just a regular old working stiff living in the suburbs of Tulsa.”
“Not so regular,” Farzad interceded. “In addition to being an attorney, he owned two successful restaurants before selling them off in a sudden fit to hide away here in Montana. He gave up so much. But for what reason, I never figured out.”
Nick waved off Farzad’s comment. “My ancillary businesses were a drain. Besides, it was time to give up the rat race.” He raised his chin and declared, “Life demands more from us all than business, right?”
The word life punctured the air, brandishing a sharper edge than in normal company. Conrad sat among them. He slid farther into his chair and disappeared more into his clothes. Of the five men, he alone would understand the priorities of life.
Nervous energy seemed to coalesce among the small party. Farzad massaged the condensation on his glass with his free hand. Nick stared down the hallway as if seeking an escape route. Conrad gazed at his sunken lap. Daniel’s shoulders rose to his ears. Aiden said he’d check on dinner and figured the sooner they ate the better.
Removing the lamb roast from the oven, Aiden heard Farzad ask Daniel more about his woodshop. Daniel told him about his many clients, from young families eager for high-quality craftsmanship to fancy lodges, which required authentic pieces to match their rustic surroundings.
“And you, Conrad,” Farzad said. “What is it that you do?”
“I’m a computer guy, like you,” Conrad chimed.
Aiden shouted through the pass-through, “He’s one of those guys who can fix anything computer related. I’ve tried to learn but I never can.”
“Do you work here in Montana?”
Aiden noticed a hesitation. Daniel spoke on Conrad’s behalf with his deepest baritone, “He’s visiting.”
More silence followed, and Aiden realized Nick hadn’t mentioned to Farzad the intimate details of Conrad’s illness or Aiden and Daniel’s domestic situation. Nick spoke up, his voice unusually loud and jovial. “He wanted to get away from the rat race too, Farzad.”
“I’m here for some recuperation, you might say,” Conrad replied with a snigger.
“Conrad’s from Washington, DC,” Nick added.
“You came as far as I have.”
“Daniel and Aiden have been kind to let me stay here,” Conrad said to Farzad.
Farzad hollered toward the kitchen, “And what do you do, Aiden?”
“I’m a freelance writer,” Aiden said, stirring the warmed garlic mashed potatoes. “I write articles on just about anything as long as they pay me.”
“He’s writing about Glacier National Park now,” Conrad said. “Something about the environment.”
Aiden plated the lamb roast on a platter that he used for fancy occasions. “It’s somewhat involved, but there’s a strip-mining corporation across the border setting up operations that might adversely affect the park, and possibly even the entire Flathead Valley.”
“I hope you can expose them for what they are,” Farzad said. “The power behind such large companies can be difficult to contain. It takes power to fight power.”
“Bully the bullies,” Conrad sang, and sipped from his drink. Struggling to stand, he said, “I’ll go see if Aiden needs help.” He sidled next to Aiden in the kitchen and whispered in his ear with the stink of gin, “This is turning into a fun night.”
Aiden held back a chuckle and said under his voice, “It’ll be over soon enough, don’t worry. Go tell everyone dinner’s ready.”
The five men gathered around the table and Daniel led a prayer, one that each of them could interpret to meet the needs of his own faith, or lack of one. Afterward they passed the serving bowls and platters, hand over hand. Farzad served himself scant amounts. Aiden suspected he was being polite by refusing too much. His plump lower lip trembled with each bite. He became quiet, provided an uneven smile around the table.
“This is wonderful, Aiden,” Nick said. “You’ve outdone yourself. Best lamb I’ve ever tasted.”
“It’s very good,” Daniel said.
“Glad you guys like it. Eat up. There’s plenty.”
“Forgive me, I’m confused,” Farzad said, still picking at his food. “Who is it who lives here?”
“Aiden and Daniel both live here, Farzad,” Nick said, eyes on his plate. “I told you that. And Conrad is a friend of theirs.”
“So none of you have a wife?”
Aiden’s hand froze in the midst of doling himself mashed potatoes. He could see that Farzad had directed the question to Daniel. They sat facing each other across the table, like two seated chess pieces.
“I was married once,” Daniel said bluntly. “I even had one son.”
“I don’t mean to pry. It’s just that….”
“My wife and infant son were killed in a tornado in Illinois a few years ago,” Daniel stated.
Farzad stayed quiet. Conrad, who had never learned the details of Daniel’s past, dropped his fork on his plate with a resounding clink. Nick had known about Daniel’s life in Illinois, for Daniel had volunteered this intimate detail of his Amish past to him one winter night over hot chocolate before a roaring fire. Nick had seemed genuinely stricken. It was then Aiden and Daniel knew they had found a true friend in their solicitous neighbor.
“And now you live here, with Aiden?” Farzad said.
“Ya.”
Aiden hurried plating the food. He saw that Farzad had again glanced at their portrait on the mantle.
“I see,” Farzad said. “It’s just that….” His words trailed off into a mumble.
Nick attempted to jump-start the conversation. “Wonderful choice of wine,” he said, raising his glass of cabernet sauvignon and examining the deep blush that shimmered under the overhead lights. “Has a sweet, woodsy taste.”
“Thought it might pair well with the lamb,” Aiden said, parroting Nick’s tone. They sounded like bad actors in a horrible TV commercial.
Daniel cut into his meat, focusing on one of his favorite meals. Aiden figured by the rise of his shoulders that he wished Aiden had never invited Nick’s friend over for dinner.
By the hearth, Ranger held his head high, eager for treats. He’d become pushy about getting scraps from the table lately and Daniel had scolded him more often than not.
“You should try Aiden’s Mexican cooking,” Conrad said, as if trying to get a rise from them. “Tasty stuff, you bet.”
“I’ve never had the pleasure of trying one of his Mexican suppers,” Nick said.
“I’ll have to invite you over next time we have one,” Aiden said.
“Aiden’s suppers warm the belly and the soul,” Daniel said.
“Speaking of warm, Farzad tells me they’ve already had temperatures in the eighties back east.” Nick forked a healthy piece of lamb into his mouth and glanced around the table. “We won’t see temps that high until about June, huh, Daniel? Daniel is our expert weatherman, Farzad.”
Farzad lifted lethargic eyes from his plate. “Oh?”
“Being raised on an Amish farm makes you sensitive to those things, right, Daniel?”
“I figure that could be. Dad had the tongue for changing weather, though.”
“A tongue?” Conrad asked.
“We used to say he had a taste for the weather.”
They chuckled, all but Farzad. Nick added, “Tell us, Daniel, when do you foresee the weather warming up for good?”
“Unsure,” Daniel murmured toward his plate. “There’s still yet snow in the higher elevations.”
“We get some strange weather here, don’t we, fellows? Take September. Can be our hottest month, just when you’d expect things to cool off.”
Aiden swallowed a bite of lamb. “I think it has to do with the craggy mountains, Nick. Heat gets trapped in the rocks and by the end of summer they act like heaters. It’s something to experience when you backpack in the woods. At night, you can actually feel the heat rise off rock outcroppings and even the coldest nights can be warmed by them.”
“I’ve noticed that,” Nick said. “Much cheaper than Flathead Electric.”
Shaky laughter rolled around the table. Only Farzad remained mute.
“I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “I can’t….”
“Farzad!” Nick reached for Farzad as he stood with a harsh skid of his chair. “Where are you going? We’re in the middle of eating.”
“Forgive me, Nick. Forgive me, everyone. I don’t wish to be impolite. But my faith, my bloodline, my very existence prevents me from accepting this. I know that for some it is okay, especially for young people. Even in my home country, I hear they are less prone to condemnation. But I cannot.” He turned for the door, leaving behind a trail of spicy cologne, and said over and over under his breath, “I must leave. Please forgive me. I must leave.”
He slipped on his loafers and was grabbing for the door handle when Nick leaped from his chair. “You wait right there, Farzad Qajar. I don’t give a damn how much you apologize, you are still a guest in my friends’ home. You are showing your ignorance.”
Farzad, frozen by the door, slowly turned to face his old friend. His complexion reddened with deepening anguish. Aiden never saw a man show such pain on his face. “One man’s ignorance is another’s convictions,” he muttered. “I’m going to the hotel. I’ll call for a taxi with my cellular outside. Don’t bother to show me out.”
“Don’t be a fool, Farzad. I’ll drive you. Stay put.” Nick yanked his jacket off the hook and turned to Aiden and the others, his gray eyes full of regret. “I’m very sorry for this. If I had known—”
Left at the table, Daniel, Aiden, and Conrad sat quiet and stunned. Aiden glanced around. Daniel kept his head down, his cheeks redder than the cabernet sauvignon. Conrad poked his food, scratched his naked scalp.
“He was a load of laughs,” he said, releasing the tension.
“I sensed that might happen,” Daniel put in.
It wasn’t until the last drop of gravy was slurped up with the store-bought rolls that a light chuckle rippled around the table, changing to a full-blown howl. Even Ranger jumped up, tail wagging like a willow branch in the wind, and found the entire evening ridiculous.
NEAR ten o’clock, while everyone relaxed before the fire and appeared to have forgotten Farzad Qajar’s outburst, Aiden answered a light knock on the front door. Nick stood on the landing wringing his hands, looking sheepish and ashamed.
“Come on in, Nick.” Aiden opened the door wider.
Nick stepped in, smiled shakily at Daniel and Conrad seated in the living area. “I suppose my reaction was almost as bad as his,” he said to them. “He got me so angry. I had no idea he harbored such prejudices. I tried to talk sense into him, but he is a stubborn man.”
“Your friend has a right to his beliefs,” Daniel said from the sofa.
“You are good and understanding men,” Nick said with a trembling smile. “But it angers me there are people like Farzad in the world.”
“Would you like me to fix you a plate?” Aiden asked him. “You didn’t get to finish your dinner or have any dessert. I bought a cherry-rhubarb pie from a local Amish bakery.”
Nick shook his head. “Sounds tempting. But it’s late. Maybe tomorrow. I just wanted to apologize. And to promise next time I’ll be sure to bring a dinner guest with less passion for his views.”
“We weren’t offended,” Aiden said.
“No worries, Nick,” Daniel said.
“He was a hoot,” Conrad declared from the easy chair. “Best dinner party I ever attended.”
Shaking his head, Nick tried to chuckle. “I wish I could be as casual about this as you all.” He stared at them, his mouth opened slightly. His Adam’s apple quivered with a strange expectancy. “I better get home,” he said at last. “You fellows have a good night. Sorry again for the trouble.”
“Good night, Nick,” they shouted after him.
A half hour later, Aiden lay in bed and watched Daniel change into pajama bottoms while trying to hold back from expressing his suspicions that Nick had wanted to offer more than apologies. Nick concealed something. The same sensation Aiden experienced from the other times whenever in Nick’s company. “I wonder what Nick’s true beef is,” Aiden finally said.
“You don’t think he was merely upset by his friend insulting us?”
“Seems more to it than that.”
“Nick was for sure boogered by it more than us,” Daniel said.
“You agree with me and think he’s gay, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell us if it’s true. He clearly has no issues with it.”
“I just can’t figure it out,” Aiden said.
Daniel tested the elastic on his waistband. “Stop trying to. People have a right to their own business.”
Daniel hunkered under the bedcovers. Once settled, Aiden leaned into him and said, “Do you ever resent being with me?”
“Every day of my life.”
Aiden gaped. “What?”
“Sometimes I think it’d be much easier to live a sad, empty life than one filled with so much love. Brings a lot of heartache.”
“But honestly, Daniel. Do you sometimes feel weird about our relationship?”
Daniel set his gaze on the opposite wall. “Sometimes I think it’s unusual to be with a man, despite it being my nature.”
Aiden accepted Daniel’s frankness, devoid of empty sentiments. Crinkling his forehead, he said, “Did Farzad make you feel bad about yourself tonight?”
“I’d rather dine with an honest enemy than a condescending ally,” Daniel said.
Aiden considered Daniel’s words. “I feel the same.”
Daniel kissed Aiden’s cheek. “Good. Now let’s get some sleep. I need to get up early in the morning.”
Aiden snickered. “Like Nick said, you’re still very much Amish, aren’t you? You like to rise early, you wear a moustacheless beard, lots of things like that.”
“I reckon old habits die hard. Does any of that bother you?”
Aiden cuddled closer to Daniel, clung to his powerful bicep. “Not in the slightest. I love your old-fashioned ways. But you’re nothing like Farzad. You’re an understanding, strong, sensitive man. Not a sanctimonious religious kook.”
“That’s good to know.” Daniel switched off the light and gave Aiden one last kiss before rolling to his side. “Have good dreams, Aiden.”
“You too, Daniel. Good night.”
But Aiden did not slide under the covers and close his eyes along with Daniel. Instead, he stared into the darkness, and stayed up at least another hour, wondering….