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“I used to. Now I’m a child who discovered sweets and no longer wants a proper supper.”
Her friend laughed. “What about Sultan Hammam? This is quite the thing, no?”
“Itis. Otherwise, I feel the urge to cancel my social plans and spend all my time…”
Stella laughed quietly. “Enjoy, my dear, but don’t allow him to occupy all of your nights—or thoughts. Employ some distance, lest you tire of each other quickly. Or worse, become rather too attached.”
Clara looked back up at the shadowy star on the ceiling high above. The heat was draining her energy. “Your advice is entirely sound.”
“You said that with fatigue of Atlas, holding up the celestial heavens.”
“It’s exaggeration, of course, to compare my burden to poor Atlas…” They both laughed. “But itisexceedingly difficult to refrain from my new diversion.”
“Hardly surprising at all,” Stella chided.
Gazing at the ceiling cut-out, Clara recognized the truth of those words, and felt pathetic. “I’m rather like a dry garden plot, desperately soaking up whatever rain it can.”
“That’s not what I meant! You’ve been caring for others since I met you, Clara. Your visits to J.R. are rather like our visit to the hammam. We’d scarcely spent five minutes here today, and I wasalreadythinking how wonderful it will be to return!”
“I like that way of considering it. It’s restorative, diverting. Almost necessary for my health!” She smiled mischievously.
Stella smiled. “Precisely.”
Wilting onto the divan, she fanned herself. “The warmth was divine at first, but now I feel like a Christmas goose, ready to be served.”
“What was it the pamphlets called it? The perspiratory process? I daresay I’ve engaged in the process sufficiently at this point.”
Within the minute, an attendant rang a bell.
“To the Lavatorium!” Stella called out to their cohort.
As agreed, Stella led the group in the procession between rooms, and Clara trailed, ensuring everyone made it. Though almost light-headed by now, she smiled as she took in everyone’s glowing pink cheeks.
The last to rise, Delilah held onto Clara’s moist arm, and they headed through an arched passageway.
“How do you feel, Del?” She looked down with concern at the much smaller woman, whose gray hair was plastered onto her head instead of the usual frizzy halo.
“I `aven't felt this fresh in ages.”
“Oh, that heartens me to hear!”
“Ask me, Miss Clara!” Ada urged.
“And you, how do you feel after all this?” Clara obliged with a smile.
“So fresh I can charge double in the next alley I work!” Ada and Tillie laughed so hard they leaned on each other, arms linked, as they walked. Tillie’s right leg, bent, dragged behind her.
Accustomed to their humor, Clara shared an amused glance with Del. “Let’s make it to that refreshment station,” she said to herself as much as to her companion.
It was already cooler in the hallway, but she was parched. She accepted two cups of water and passed one to Del before draining her own. After several cups, they continued down the lantern-lit marble hall toward the sound of flowing water.
Lamps suspended on the wall cast light up to the arched ceiling of the Lavatorium. The water in the center stone fountain likewise reflected the light. Concave marble benches, almost like troughs, lined the perimeter of the room.
Clara helped Del settle onto the lip of the bench and sat down next to her while they waited their turn.
Wearing gowns more like robes, the rinsing attendants filled pitchers at the fountain and poured them over each woman from head to toe. Once rinsed, a fresh attendant arrived to knead muscles and crack joints.
After Stella had received such treatment for a few minutes, she sought Clara, who watched with apprehension as the attendants manipulated limbs and beat flesh. Rolling her shoulders under her drenched shift, blonde hair still pinned in a simple bun, Stella sighed. “`Tis nothing to fear, Clara! For all the sounds of cracking joints and slaps on skin, it’s a delight! And look!” She indicated toward Minnie.
