Ashar felt as though he would need to find a bath that would let him scour all the way from his toes to the inside of his head. And also he might owe apologies to the honor and dignity of every unmarried woman between eighteen and forty in the entire Catsprowl by the time the aunties stopped dickering.
They were not winding down, either. Hamda-khala and Fathuna-khala were both raising their voices, Geeta-auntie was flapping about like a panicked hen facing a stewpot, and Ishta-auntie was much too clearly filing away tidbits of commentary for later pointed sharpening of who-said-whats.
Ashar stifled a sigh, and began to fill a tray with kulhad andkatayefand dates and apricots and a chai-pot that was light enough to maneuver one-handed. Perhaps their mouths might be more pleasantly occupied if he could get them to chewing instead.
Geeta-auntie took akatayefas though it were a lifeline, and chewing gave her the chance to not make another too-public mistake. Ishta-auntie was more than happy to take a kulhad and nibbles, but she was busy gathering sharp things from the debris of what the other two were spilling. The room didn’t really need more noise, but letting Ishta-auntie keep watching and noting things didn’t seem entirely safe either.
Ashar said to her, “I am somewhat bemused that all of this has spilled over from one delightful night I shared with one delightful man, when all of you know that I will not kiss and tell.”
“It’s because youdokeep your intimate matters private,beta,” Geeta-auntie said, patting his arm as she took anotherkatayef. “You keep your clients’ business to yourself, so if you showed him to us, he is not a paying client, is he?”
“He is not a paying client,” Ashar agreed. “Which is why I am even less inclined to kiss and tell.”
“But he is not of the neighborhood! So if he is a fraud with designs upon this House, of course it is our duty as your neighborhood aunties to— er— um— that is—” She put thekatayefin her mouth and chewed vigorously.
“To establish our own designs on your House before this newcomer gets the chance to beat us to it,” Ishta-auntie finished for her.
“Ishta!”
“He’s not stupid, Geeta. And we’re not subtle.”
“Should we be?”
“A bit late for that now,” Ishta-auntie said. “But also, subtle hasn’t gotten him married yet, so if Hamda is about to try to push Oma on him I’m at least throwing Safaa into the ring.”
“Safaa may not be eager to be thrown anywhere,” Ashar pointed out. “And I am quite particular about consent.”
“When did consent ever have anything to do with matchmaking busybodies’ scheming?” Ishta-auntie chuckled, and sipped at her chai.
“That would be among several reasons why I have not married.”
“Well, you’re not getting any younger,” Ishta-auntie said frankly, which Ashar thought was quite ironic since he was half her age. “This bath business is for young people with the stamina for it. The rest of the neighborhood may think you’re being wooed by some impoverished vagrant sham-priest who pays you in sweet words and kittens, and that’s one type of problem, but me? I’m betting you’re smarter than that. Which leaves us with the other possibility, that you set up the priest-farce yourself, if he’s rich and you’ve just found your golden palanquin ride out of here.”
Ashar kept breathing, and remembered to blink.
Hira was very good at keeping her silence, but cats were sometimes a little too honest with their bodies. She went much too still, and her ears and tail slicked down flat.
“I thought so,” Ishta-auntie murmured, satisfied.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Ashar told her quietly. “Rich or poor, priest or pariah, you will have nothing from me save that he is treasured.”
“Since when has that ever stopped the gossip,beta?”
“I will defend his name and honor with every power in me. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“Pull the other one,” Ishta-auntie said, under her breath, watching the others squabble back and forth. “If you’re toosmart to be scammed by a fraud, then you’re also too smart to stay in theCatsprowlif you’ve found yourself a rich lover who’ll whisk you away from here.”
“You’ll believe what you will,” Ashar said, “and you’ll gossip as you will. I’m smart enough to know I can’t stop that. But, Ishta-auntie, I knowyou’resmart enough to recognize that the truth is the most keenly bladed gossip you can wield.”
He took a deep breath, and lowered every professional facade he’d ever practiced. He looked her straight in the eyes and said with every sincerity in his soul, “I’m not going anywhere. He promised me kittens, not coin.”
Ishta-auntie sighed deeply, and reached up to pat his cheek. “I did think you were more sensible than that,beta,” she told him. “I wish you didn’t mean that, because now none of us are going to know when you’ll change your mind until you do.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Do you think you get to have it both ways because you’re a man? Honey, if he’s rich and he’s got a reputation to protect, you don’t get to keep everything. You’re a bath-house harlot. You’re his woman on the side. Either you lose him, or you lose this place. You don’t get to keep both.”
“I know,” Ashar said. “Last night’s joy is a pleasure I’ll never regret. But I’m fully expecting that I’ll lose him. I’ll be surprised if I even meet the kittens.”
