by Holly Rayner
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, she 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.
From then on, Fairuz was at least less chilly towards her, though they still didn't chat much. Kathy was beginning to understand that she just wasn't much of a talker, regardless of how much she liked someone or not.
Kathy didn't report on the success of her attempts to Shadaf. A better relationship with Tehar's family was its own reward. But she had a feeling he had noticed. She saw him bent over his journal even more than usu
al in the following days, working with a kind of intensity she hadn't seen in him before.
To her surprise, Tehar noticed as well. They’d snuck away to the gardens together one warm afternoon and laid among the flowers, Kathy sprawled between his knees with her head on his chest.
He ran fingers through her hair, loosed from its scarf, while she wove flowers into a chain the way Khalila had recently taught her. With the help of Khalila, Fairuz, and Ihab, she’d been making an effort to learn more about Abu Sadah and its culture, learning a new respect for their customs and traditions.
In particular, Fairuz had been teaching her traditional Abu Sadahi weaving. She was thinking about the pattern of a cloth she’d been working on, trying out different combinations of flowers, imagining which would look best when she wove it. Tehar peered over her shoulder at the flower crown curiously.
“The jasmine compliments the dahlia well,” he said. “Fairuz would approve.”
“Do you think so?” Kathy asked, smiling as she set the crown in his dark hair.
“These days I feel like you know her better than I do,” Tehar confessed. “With the difference in age, we have never been close.”
“You should talk to her more,” Kathy suggested, admiring the way the petals scattered on his curls. “She’s smart. Quiet. Reserved, like you are. Ihab is wonderful too. Sweet, and a hopeless romantic. She wants to see the world.”
“I’m glad you’ve made friends with them,” Tehar said, catching a fallen blossom from the crown and weaving it into her hair instead. “They’ve seemed much happier since you’ve been here. I was worried that their banishment here had ended all possibility of happiness for them.”
“Because they aren’t married?” Kathy asked. “I would think you knew me well enough to know not every woman’s goal in life is to get married.”
“You are hardly a typical woman,” he pointed out. She frowned at him until he capitulated, holding his hands up.
“Does that mean you never want to get married?” he asked a moment later, seeming troubled.
“Probably not,” she admitted, paying more attention to the flowers she was fussing with. “I’ve never put a lot of thought into it. It’s not a priority for me, you know?”
“But you aren’t against it?” Tehar pushed. “It’s still a possibility?”
“I guess so,” Kathy said with a sigh. “Why? Are you worried I’m going to marry someone else?”
She rolled over to look at him and saw the strained look on his face. She touched his cheek, concerned and confused.
“I know you don’t want to get married,” she said when he didn’t explain. His frown only deepened, his eyes avoiding hers. “Is this still not enough?”
“I don’t know, Kathy,” he said gently, meeting her eyes at last and running his hand through her hair. “I don’t think any amount of you could ever be enough.”
He kissed her again, and Kathy let the conversation fall away, despite her concerns. Was their warm little fantasy beginning to collapse already? It seemed that they’d have less time to linger in the safety of indecision than she’d predicted.
Chapter Fourteen
August arrived, just as hot but cooled by surprisingly strong winds which whipped sand into everyone's eyes and threatened to flip the women's abayas over their heads and send them spinning away like umbrellas in a storm.
Kathy's stomach had become a significant burden, her back hurt, sleeping was difficult, and she had constant heartburn. Pregnancy was far from the miracle everyone had said it would be.
"We're doing what?"
"Horseback riding!" Shadaf said brightly, rolling his chair past her towards the front door. "It's just the thing to cheer you up! You have been terribly tense lately."
"I wonder why," Kathy said sarcastically, waddling after him.
They wouldn't be leaving the grounds, but rather riding across them. Sheikha Nouha's palace had acres of open land, kept green and grassy by the blood, sweat, and tears of a hundred gardeners and a billion-dollar sprinkler system.
Somewhere on those grounds, Kathy was told, though she'd never seen it in six months, was a stable in which the Sheikha kept several expensive Akhal-Teke horses. They were beautiful animals, long limbed and slender, like greyhounds, with coats and manes that seemed to be made of spun gold.
Despite their delicate appearance, they were in peak condition and were incredibly hardy, powerful animals bred for endurance riding. This was according to their trainer, who talked about them extensively as they were saddled for the ride. Kathy listened with some interest as he described the long history of the breed, stroking the nose of an exquisite golden mare. It was, she was fairly certain, as close as she'd be getting to riding today.
"But Tehar, we can't just ride without our guest!" Shadaf complained as the trainer strapped him into his saddle, which was specially made to help support him.
"Then you should have talked to me about it first," Tehar replied, tightening the straps on his own saddle. "The doctor said it isn't safe. The woman is six months pregnant."
"I'm with the doctor on this one," Kathy chimed in. "I appreciate the effort, but even if it wasn't dangerous it would be uncomfortable as hell. I'll just watch."
"I'm sorry, Kathy," Shadaf said, looking genuinely wounded. "When you told me how much you loved horses, I thought this would be a treat for you."
"It's a treat just getting to see these horses," Kathy assured him. "Go have a good time. You could use the exercise!"
Looking as though he still felt rather guilty, he turned his horse away to go and join Khalila, who was just climbing onto her horse.
Tehar left his horse for a moment to go stand with Kathy. To her surprise, Basira, Fairuz, and Ihab had all decided to join them riding. Apparently, all of them except Ihab had been riding most of their lives, and went out to enjoy the horses whenever the weather permitted. Together, she and Tehar watched Basira and Fairuz help Ihab into her saddle.
"I'm sorry you can't ride," he said quietly. "I didn't know you liked horses."
"My grandparents kept them," she said. "I used to ride them every summer. I still try to go riding whenever I can."
"After the baby is born," Tehar said, "perhaps we could go riding again? I would love to see you on horseback."
Kathy smiled, flattered.
"Would you like me to stay here with you?" he offered. "I don't mind."
"No, please, go have a good time," she insisted. "I want to see how well you ride."
"Then I will have to impress you," he said with a chuckle, leaving her to swing elegantly onto his horse.
"Don't do anything stupid," Kathy warned.
"No promises," Tehar said with a wink, then spurred his horse forward to catch up with Shadaf and Khalila's.
They'd brought supplies for a picnic and Kathy spread the blanket out before sitting down, watching as the family chased each other over the green, their beautiful golden horses shining in the sunlight as they ran and leaped over the lush and verdant lawn.
It was a glorious sight to see, the kind of thing that made Kathy wish she were a painter. She would have loved to capture the image forever. Tehar looked like a prince in a fairytale, easy and graceful in the saddle, laughing as he raced his cousin and sisters. His horse leaped so high it seemed he would leave the ground entirely and gallop away into the sharp sapphire sky, hooves striking clouds and sending off sparks of stars and rain.
Kathy dozed a little, leaning against the tree, feeling the baby stir within her. She’d had more than one ultrasound by then, and could have learned the baby’s sex, but had decided against it. She wanted the surprise. But she had to admit, she’d been imagining a boy. She imagined what he would like riding beside his father, the two of them racing across the desert.
After a while, the riders wore themselves out and slowly began to lead their horses back to where Kathy was sitting. She put aside the book she'd been reading and stood, dusting herself off.
"Who else is ready
for lunch?" Shadaf asked cheerfully. "I'm starving!"
"I'll eat it all before you get out of your saddle," Tehar teased, swinging off into the grass.
"As if!" Shadaf laughed, struggling to unbuckle himself.
"Be careful!" Khalila giggled. "Hold still, I'll help you."
Before she could get down, Kathy saw something move in the grass, coils glittering in the light and a hiss like sand through fingers. She started to say something, a warning, but it was already too late. Ihab's horse spotted the snake and reared up with a terrible scream, pitching inexperienced Ihab directly off its back and into the path of its flying hooves.
A high-strung breed, the first horse's panic infected the others within seconds. They jumped away in fear, leaving their riders fighting to control them. Fairuz's shot off right across the field. But in the instant, since Ihab had hit the ground, Kathy had only been focused on one thing, her childhood riding experience coming back to her.
Her grandfather had trained his own horses, and even though he didn't really ride them for sport or keep them for anything more than fun, he practiced with them regularly as part of taking care of them. He said it was as important to keep their minds engaged and learning as it was to keep their bodies in shape. And one of the first things he'd taught Kathy was what to do when a horse panicked, though he'd never approve of how she was about to go about it.
She threw herself between Ihab and the horse's panicked, flailing hooves. She felt one of its forelimbs clip her raised arms, but she ignored the flare of pain in favor of grabbing the loose, flying reins. She caught them in a firm grip and dragged them hard, down and to the side, forcing the horse to turn its head, to focus on Kathy rather than what was frightening it.
She'd been paying attention to the trainer earlier and knew enough Arabic to remember the commands he'd used. She ordered the horse to back up, using the same gestures she'd seen the trainer use. If she could keep the horse focused on her and on something familiar like the command, it would forget about the snake, which she could see Khalila throwing the picnic blanket over in her peripheral vision.