The Sheikh's ASAP Baby
Page 13
“But we still want this,” he said, dipping lower, nearly kissing her. “So, can this be enough? No promises, no expectations, but we don’t ignore what we want either. I’m not asking for us to just sleep together and then ignore each other. I want a relationship with you. Just—”
“Just a relationship with no clear future,” Kathy finished for him.
“It’s better than no relationship at all, isn’t it?” he pleaded.
Kathy thought of the sylph, so desperate to be with the man she loved that she let him tie her down and burn off her wings. And the man, so desperate to be with her that he’d leave behind a happy, normal life with a wife and children and friends and run into the woods with no idea what the future held. They had both destroyed themselves to be together, and in the end it still hadn’t worked. This might destroy them, but she couldn’t resist trying.
“All right,” she said, and kissed him. They slipped back into the bathroom together, not thinking about the future, or about how they would explain the delay to Shadaf and Khalila when they emerged nearly a half an hour later.
It was hard to say whether the acceptance of their strange relationship made things more or less complicated. The dodging and avoiding each other had been replaced by sneaking away together, brief moments of clandestine pleasure in the heat of the palace’s many gardens, courtyards, and salons.
Fear of the future had given way to the hedonistic delights of the present. But the future, cold and uncertain, lingered always on the edges of things—every morning she woke up nauseous, every time she had to give up on another pair of pants because of the swelling of her stomach, every time she caught a glimpse of it in the mirror and she remembered that by winter, this would be over and she didn’t know what came next.
Kathy could only assume she would return to Miami, or Colorado, or wherever she could find work after this disaster with Mitchell. And Tehar would stay here with his family and his work and his roots. And she might never see him again. Or only on stiff formal occasions for the baby’s sake, which might be worse.
But that was for the future. She pushed those thoughts away whenever they crept up on her like strangling ivy in a rose garden, and focused on the present. On him.
April became June, which was so hot that, combined with the severe morning sickness Kathy was experiencing, she could hardly drag herself out of bed. Tehar came to visit her in bed instead, fussing and worrying no matter how many times the doctor told him this was normal and Kathy just needed to watch out for dehydration.
Once the doctor was gone, he would peel off her abaya and open the balcony doors to try to coax in a breeze while they sprawled on out Kathy's bed eating oranges.
In July, they all went together to the beach. Shadaf was having a good day and walked into the surf on his own feet rather than bring the wheelchair out into the sand. Kathy watched him playing with Khalila, both of them laughing and more in love than she ever thought she'd seen two people be.
She lay on the sand where the shallow waves were rolling just high enough to wash over her swollen belly. She was starting to have a real bump now. In another month, anyone would be able to tell at a glance. She ran a hand over it in slow, meditative patterns as she enjoyed the sun and the rhythm of the water.
She heard a splash, and looked up to see Tehar sitting down beside her. He placed a delicate, iridescent seashell on top of her stomach and she laughed.
"Are you happy here?" he asked suddenly.
"Of course," she answered without thinking. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"No, I mean, are you happy being here, in Abu Sadah, with me?" he clarified. "I heard you talking with Khalila earlier about the full-body swimsuits. It must be stifling for you here, having to wear clothes you don't like, not able to go anywhere without a man."
"It's pretty frustrating," Kathy admitted. "I'm not going to lie. But it's an inconvenience, that's all. I don't mind dealing with some annoying clothes and rules in order to be here with you."
"But would it still just be an inconvenience if you lived here?" he asked. "You would not be able to work, or travel alone, or own anything of your own. The laws in Abu Sadah are not as strict as in Saudi. There, you would not even be able to be on the beach like this with me. But you would still have almost none of the freedoms you have in America. Would you still stay here, knowing that?"
Kathy considered it for a moment.
"No," she said. "I don't think I could. I want to stay here until the baby is born, but I don't think I could live here. Especially if it meant giving up my work."
"I didn't think so," Tehar said, frowning.
"Why do you ask?" She sat up, water running off her baby bump. "Were you planning on asking me to stay here forever?"
"Maybe," Tehar murmured. Kathy felt herself flush and looked away.
"Have you figured out what you want, then?" she asked.
"Not remotely," he replied, scrubbing a hand over his face as though the thought exhausted him.
"I have figured out one thing," she said, looking down at her stomach and smiling. She reached for his hand, twining their fingers together in the sand. "Whatever else we decide, I don't want this to just be business between me and you. When the baby is born, I want to still be a part of your life."
Tehar was quiet for a moment, considering, then squeezed her hand.
"I don't want this to just be business, either," he agreed. "I want to find a way to make this work."
"Me too." She leaned closer, thinking she might kiss him, though she would probably regret it. But just as she moved, she felt something strange.
"Oh!" she gasped, grabbing her swollen stomach.
"What?" Tehar was on his knees in an instant, ready to pick her up and rush her to a hospital. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm fine!" Kathy assured him quickly, laughing. "I just…I think I just felt the baby move!"
"Oh," Tehar collapsed back onto the sand with a sigh of relief.
"This is the first time I've felt it!" Kathy said, still laughing, unexpectedly overjoyed by the strange sensation of something shifting inside her, this undeniable proof that her baby was alive and growing. She paused, realizing this was the first time she'd really thought of it as 'her' baby. It felt somehow more real, all of a sudden.
"Kathy," Tehar said gently. "Are you sure you're all right? You're crying."
She touched her cheek in surprise, then laughed again, sobbing through it in a confused muddle of emotions.
"Yeah," she said, choked by a sob. "I'm okay. I'm just really happy."
"You're so strange." Tehar chuckled.
"Sorry," Kathy blubbered, trying to wipe the tears away.
"Don't be," Tehar said warmly, and leaned in to kiss her red, tear-damp cheek. "I think you’re wonderful."
Chapter Thirteen
Though things with Tehar continued to improve, Kathy's relationship with his mother remained strained. Basira made very little effort to hide the fact that she didn't approve of their relationship, her ire all the more ferocious as it became apparent that they were still sleeping together.
She didn't want Kathy in her home. Fairuz and Ihab followed Basira's lead in ignoring Kathy, but she didn't sense any genuine hostility from them. They were just doing as they were told. As Kathy's Arabic improved, she made a few attempts to reach out to them, primarily without success.
"Why are Basira and the others here, anyway?" she asked Shadaf as they sat in the garden one sunny July day. He was working on his poetry and making half an effort to help Kathy with her studies, though she was mostly teaching herself at this point.
She was struggling to stay focused, however. Her breasts had been aching and tender with the recent changes caused by the pregnancy, and anytime she moved too fast she was hit with a wave of breathless dizziness. She'd actually fainted the other day from it, just stood up too fast and fell right over. Tehar had nearly had a heart attack.
"You said this was your mother's house, right?" Kathy went on, pushing
away her notebook. "Sheikha Nouha?"
"Say it in Arabic," Shadaf said without looking up from his journal. Kathy huffed, then carefully put the words together to say the phrase in Arabic.
"You're getting better," he said. "Watch your h. It's 'amk not hammock. But yes, this is my mother's house. Though she is rarely home."
"Why not?" Kathy asked, curious. Shadaf sighed and closed his journal, taking off his reading glasses.
"My condition depresses her," he said without emotion, tucking his glasses into his pocket. "I'm the only child she had with my father before he died, and because I am not healthy, she considers me a sign of her personal failure as a wife. We don't get along. I believe she's in Brazil at the moment. If she came back to the country, the family would probably make her settle down, so she just doesn't come back."
"I'm sorry," Kathy said with a frown. "I know what that's like."
"God save us from parents that run from their own children," Shadaf said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway. Because of my condition, I never moved out of my mother's house. Khalila should have received her own palace when she married me, but because of me, her position is also decreased. So, we live here in the home my mother abandoned. Basira's husband has many wives whom she does not get along with, so when the family decided that someone should be sent here to look after me, she volunteered and brought her daughter Fairuz with her. Ihab begged to come along as well. I'm not exactly certain why. She's a young widow. Tehar's half-brother married her shortly before getting involved in some foreign war and being shot."
"Oh, how sad," Kathy said, feeling bad for the quiet girl.
"She's probably better off without him," Shadaf said honestly. "He wasn't well-liked, and the marriage was arranged of course, so I doubt she was very attached to him either. Of course, being a widow in this country comes with its own challenges."
Kathy nodded in understanding. It was good that her husband's family had decided to take care of Ihab after his death. They could easily have thrown her out or tried to send her back to her parents.
"What about Fairuz?" Kathy asked. "She's only a little younger than Ihab. She should be married by now, shouldn't she?"
"She's had several proposals," Shadaf said. "But Basira keeps turning them down. And since they came out here, her chances of marriage are significantly decreased. This place is a bit obscure. We rarely have visitors, and my condition makes people reluctant to stay. So, there just aren't many men thinking about Fairuz or Ihab. And since Basira isn't actively trying to arrange things for them…"
He shrugged.
"It seems they're doomed to spinsterhood."
"That doesn't seem like such a bad option," Kathy said honestly. "No offense."
"Perhaps," Shadaf agreed. "Even for me, who grew up with it, the way we do things seems pointlessly cruel sometimes. We're constantly struggling to maintain our traditions while also progressing with the rest of the world. The back and forth is so strong that sometimes it seems the two balance out and we end up frozen, unable to move either direction. We are changing, but slowly. Too slowly, I think. People want change in their own lifetimes and sooner or later they will have it at any cost, for better or worse."
"Sounds like the kind of thing people write poems about," Kathy said, raising an eyebrow.
"Or prize-winning articles," he shot back.
"It wouldn't mean anything coming from me," Kathy said, shaking her head. "I've only been here a few months and I've barely left this palace. I've got no roots here and no right to go criticizing or condemning. You know your country and its culture. You have the context for everything, and you're literally a royal. If you asked for change, you could actually make a difference."
"No one listens to me," Shadaf said with a chuckle. "Why should they? I may be a withered branch on the royal family tree, but most would prune me just the same."
"Don't underestimate yourself," she said. "If you really believe in changing things and there's even a slim chance you could, shouldn't you try?"
"It's something to consider," he said. "But perhaps you should take your own advice."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You were asking about the sisters because you want to get to know them, right?" Shadaf asked. "I know you've made a few attempts."
"They're not interested," Kathy said with a sigh. "They just follow Basira."
"Don't underestimate yourself," Shadaf said, imitating her American accent, poorly. "They're grown women, not Basira's puppets, and you're the first western woman they've ever encountered. I'd be amazed if they weren't interested. You just need to give them the opportunity."
"I'll try if you will," Kathy said, offering him a hand to shake. He took it.
"Deal."
She cornered Ihab first. She'd noticed the girl seemed to be lowest in the pecking order of the house, below even Kathy. She seemed to be bookish. Kathy saw her reading often when she wasn't running errands for Basira.
The house did have some servants, but not many. Certainly less than was normal, according to Shadaf and Khalila. The Sheikh's palaces usually had hordes of staff. But Basira preferred to do most things herself apparently, and what she didn't do, she got Fairuz and Ihab to handle. There were a few cleaners and a good number of gardeners, but most of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry was done by the women.
So, she started by volunteering to help with the housework. Basira was clearly surprised and then suspicious that the entitled American woman wanted to get her hands dirty. But Kathy was hardly a stranger to housework. She'd done chores growing up and kept her own apartment for years. Though the methods by which they did some things were different from what she was used to, there was nothing too far out of her depth. She picked up on even the unusual things fast.
Basira had kept a close eye on her at first, apparently expecting some mischief, though what she thought Kathy would try while washing dishes Kathy couldn't imagine. But after a while, she relaxed, and before long, Kathy was folding laundry alongside Ihab. She took a deep breath, remembered her lessons with Shadaf, and took her chance.
"So many sheets!" she said in Arabic. "Why do we wash the bedding in the guest rooms so often when we never have visitors?"
Ihab stared at her in blank surprise for a long moment. Kathy was sure they must have noticed her practicing her Arabic with Shadaf and Khalila, but Ihab must not have realized how far along Kathy was.
"I didn't realize you could speak my language," Ihab replied. "I'm sorry that my English is so poor."
"Don't worry about it," Kathy reassured her. "I wanted to learn anyway. And now, we can talk just fine."
"They tried to teach me English," Ihab confessed. "Tehar and Shadaf and Khalila and even Fairuz all learned as children. But my family thought it was a waste to educate a girl. I am still learning things slowly."
"You seem to like reading," Kathy said. "I always see you with a book."
"There are so many good ones I need to catch up on!" Ihab replied with a laugh.
"Can you read English?" Kathy asked. "I brought a few books with me and I'd love to trade sometime. I'm trying to learn Arabic script, but it’s pretty difficult.”
"I can't read much English," Ihab admitted. "But I would love to try! What kind of books did you bring?"
"Just a couple of romance novels," Kathy admitted. "To read on the plane. Not exactly classic American literature. But I'm going to be here a while anyway, so I'll ask my friend back home to send me some of my other books. I have this fantastic one about bees, and the queen is sick but no one knows yet… It's hard to explain, but it's really good."
"It sounds interesting," Ihab said with a laugh. "I don't think I've read any books about bees."
Ihab struggled at first, but helping her learn to read English was just another opportunity for Kathy to befriend her. And she certainly needed the help learning to read Arabic, which she struggled with immensely.
Once Ihab had enough of a grasp of English to begin comprehending what she was reading, s
he was hooked on Kathy's romance novels. She devoured them, then read them over while waiting for Kathy to get more. Kathy tried her on a few other genres, but it was clear Ihab had a soft spot for romance. Kathy enlisted Shadaf's help to buy more and keep Ihab well supplied. While she still acted aloof when Basira was present, they smiled when they saw each other and, whenever they had a free moment, read together.
Fairuz was a harder nut to crack. She hardly left her mother's side and Kathy struggled to determine her interests. Kathy continued trying to reach out to her or pull her into conversation whenever she had the chance, but Fairuz seemed uninterested, avoidant.
Kathy had nearly given up when, to her surprise, Fairuz came to her.
"You have been giving books to Ihab," she said one day as they were washing dishes together, while her mother was busy elsewhere.
In the kitchen, where no men were expected to go, Fairuz had shed her veil and Kathy had taken off her headscarf. In this setting, it made her feel like a lunch lady.
"I have," Kathy confirmed. "She wanted to learn to read English. Why, would you like one?"
Fairuz's jaw tightened, and she didn't reply for several minutes.
"Do you think," she spoke slowly, as though she was having trouble finding the words. "Do you think there any books about women?"
"Well, yeah, lots of them—"
"No, I mean, like the ones you gave Ihab," Fairuz struggled to clarify. "But about…women."
Kathy was confused for a moment, then it dawned on her.
"I think I could get you a couple," she said, smiling.
"No, never mind." Fairuz shook her head, clearly humiliated. "I could never keep them. If Basira caught me with them—"
"How about a movie night, then?” Kathy offered.
A few nights later, she invited Khalila, Ihab, and Fairuz up to her room for a girls’ movie night. She'd had to work hard to find a movie that had both lesbians and a happy ending. But she thought she'd pulled it off. Khalila loved the prose-y narration, Ihab loved the romance, and, though Fairuz made no comment on whether she liked it or not, Kathy caught her crying near the end.