Sebek intervened on his behalf. “Come, Mahu, we’ll make ourselves useful by setting the table.”
Mahu followed gladly. They set plates out and filled a water bowl for each person to clean their fingers. A wave of sadness hit as his eyes roamed the familiar table and roused a memory. Their two families packed into this small dining room, too many people for so small a table, and yet they’d made it work. Joyful times when the twins were just toddlers and his own children and wife doted on them. Ahset and Meri taking their beer to the courtyard to talk about whatever women discussed between themselves while Mahu and Sebek played a round of Senet.
Sebek’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “We miss them too.”
Mahu inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, and got control of himself. He would not cry at dinner. Not when the meal smelled divine and his friends wanted him happy.
Mahu patted Sebek’s hand. “It’s hard to believe nearly two years have gone by.”
“Indeed.”
The somber moment ended with the arrival of Sadek and Sadeh, each carrying trays of food and drink. Mahu helped them distribute the mugs as Meri entered, wiping her hands on her apron.
“We’re so glad you could join us,” she said as if she hadn’t orchestrated his presence herself, a one-woman army. “Have a seat.”
“The food looks delicious, Meri. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome. I get the fowl from a nice lad called Wen. I could pick up an extra for you each week?”
Mahu nodded. He really ought to cook for himself more often. “Yes, please do.”
Their group of five fit around the table with room to spare. If Mahu’s presence made Meri more aware of Ahset’s absence, he couldn’t tell, but he didn’t want to tinge their family’s happiness with his own loss.
With some effort, Mahu forced his mind to happier subjects. The image of Daka grinning on the fountain in the sunshine brought a smile to his lips. Then a frown. He hoped Daka was all right, and that his reasons for not showing up today weren’t serious. Though he also wished Daka was as eager to see him as he was to see Daka, but surely that wasn’t the case.
Sadek roused him from his musings. “Mahu, we have a new joke for your scrolls.”
“You do? Please share it, I’m running out of ideas.”
“How do cats end a fight?” asked Sadeh.
“I have no idea.”
“They hiss and make up!” the girls declared in unison.
Mahu paid extra care to make his laughter seem genuine. “Thank you, I shall pass that one along to Imi from you right away.”
Their joke was a sweet one and just the sort Mahu liked to use on his little scrolls. It wouldn’t be too long before the girls would outgrow his silly doodling. The thought made him sad. Everything made him sad today.
Mahu rallied, plastered a fake smile on his face, and pretended to be his former self for the sake of the others.
Meri doled out the roasted bird and vegetables to each of them, making sure Mahu had the heftiest portion. “Tell us what you’re up to these days, Mahu. How’s the shop? Anything new?”
“It’s all rather the same, really. The shop is doing well, as always. I’m thankful for that.”
And there’s an excitable young man with sparkling midnight-blue eyes whose presence somehow makes me forget to be sad…but Mahu would keep that to himself.
5
Daka
Daka stood outside Mahu’s papyrus shop, his throat tight with nerves. He’d rejected the idea of lying to Mahu, though he couldn’t tell the truth either.
My sister is a sex demon, and I am half of one. We spent the day tumbling the entire workforce of the local brothel because that’s how we eat, wasn’t quite an explanation Mahu would understand.
Daka hoped to lead with partial truths and trust Mahu not to pry for further details. He’d brought a basket of fresh fruit to make amends. Picking at a fraying weave along the handle, he worked up his courage.
The day promised to be a warm one. The sun baked the cobbles, and heat rose through the thin bottoms of his sandals to the soles of his feet. Daka pressed forward. The shop door stood open, so he cleared his throat and crossed the threshold.
