“How’s Nasha?” Remi asked as she drove Amal into town a couple of hours later. “She hasn’t complained that you’re keeping such a close watch on her?”
“I’m not sure she’s noticed. Everything here’s so new and strange to her.”
“Glad to hear that. And how are you doing? You seemed a bit upset when I saw you walk into the office earlier.”
“Oh. Sorry. I … I left my new phone in the field.”
Certain Amal wasn’t being truthful, Remi let it slide. “Send us the bill. Sam and I intend to pay for it.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“This is an argument you won’t win. The only reason Makao got your phone was because you were at the school, as a favor to us.”
When they reached the market, Remi parked. Amal checked her watch, then led Remi through a few narrow streets, stopping in front of the bright fruits and vegetables displayed in front of a store. “First thing, dates. Then malsouka.”
“Malsouka? For brik à l’oeuf?” Remi asked. Though it had been years and years, Remi had never forgotten the triangle-shaped deep-fried pastries filled with tuna, capers, and egg that she and Renee had enjoyed during their study-abroad trip. “One of my favorite memories of Tunisia.”
“I hope you’ll like these. My mother adds a touch of crumbled goat cheese. Nasha’s beyond excited about helping her make them.”
“Can’t wait to try it.”
She and Remi wandered toward the next stall, where Amal picked up a fig, replaced it, and checked her watch once again.
“Are we okay on time?” Remi asked.
“Sorry. I think it’s a nervous habit when I’m out shopping. I’m always worried about missing the bus.” She quickly gathered a dozen dates, paid for them, and smiled at Remi. “Since we actually have extra time, there’s a wonderful little shop not too far from here that I’ve always loved but never had much time to visit. Dr. LaBelle says it reminds her of an old-fashioned general store. It has a little bit of everything.”
“Sounds fun. Maybe I can find something for the girls back at the school.”
The two women worked their way through the pedestrians, then around the corner. “Here,” Amal said, stopping in front of a two-story shop painted a deep turquoise. Racks of postcards and trinkets were displayed out front. Inside there was, as Amal said, a variety of goods, and she immediately gravitated toward the corner where bright bolts of cloth were stacked on shelves. She pulled out one, feeling the smooth texture of the material. “I’m tempted to get a few yards.” She smiled again. “I bet they have better gift items upstairs. I’ll meet you up there after I look over the material.”
“Take your time.” Remi passed by the tables filled with textiles and sewing notions, taking the winding tile stairs to the upper floor. A breeze swept in through the open arched doors of the balcony, causing the wind chimes hanging outside to tinkle merrily. A rack of wooden puppets on strings stared back at Remi. She thought of the girls at the school, wondering if they were too old for such a thing.
The chimes stirred again, drawing her to the balcony. Some were made from colored glass, others from brass bells. Those, she decided, would make for a nice gift, hanging in the trees outside the school. She started to reach for the bells but noticed Amal in the street below her, quickly walking away. As the young woman reached the corner, she looked back toward the shop.
Curious, Remi hurried down the stairs and followed. When she arrived at the corner, she looked around it. Amal, who had been striding at the same fast pace as Remi, had stopped about midway down the street and was knocking on a door. She started to turn away but stopped, pulling something small from her pocket—a slip of paper, possibly—and holding it toward whoever answered the door and she was talking to. After a bit of back-and-forth, she nodded, then started in Remi’s direction.
Remi hurried back to the shop and up the stairs, picking up a horse puppet. Amal appeared just a couple of minutes later and Remi asked, “Find what you were looking for?”
“Sadly, no. I think I’ll wait. Did you find anything?”
Remi held up the puppet. “As cute as this is, I think the girls might be a bit too old.”
“Even Nasha?”
“Old beyond her years.” She replaced the puppet and picked out a couple of wind chimes. “These, however, will be perfect for the courtyard trees.”
“I agree.”
They walked downstairs and Remi paid the merchant. As they left the shop, she looked over at Amal. “Your bags. Where are they?”
“I asked the shopkeeper to hold them while I looked around. I’ll run back in and get them.” A moment later, she returned with both shopping bags and the two women walked through the market. Amal seemed quieter than usual.
“Everything okay?” Remi asked.
“Fine. Just a bit tired. I was up early.”
They passed a shop filled with incense, several sticks burning outside to lure in visitors, no doubt. Remi breathed in the pungent, sweet scent. “I’d forgotten how wonderful the market can be. So much to see … In fact, I thought I saw you taking off.”