“I don’t think so,” Sevda says. She grins. “I think he really just wants you to use his lap.”

“You can’t say things like that!” Paheli scolds Taraana.

“What did I say?” Taraana frowns, looking lost.

“Do you make it a habit of offering girls your lap? What’s wrong with pillows? Do you have something against pillows?” Paheli’s cheeks are definitely red. This is very entertaining.

“No, you are the first girl I have offered my lap to.” Taraana runs a hand through his hair so tufts of it stick up. “Nothing is wrong with pillows. I just don’t know if you have any here. You don’t want my lap?”

Paheli opens her mouth, perhaps to deliver some pithy response, before closing it without uttering a word. This is the first time we have seen our Paheli so completely at a loss. Perhaps we shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.

“I think we need ice cream. I will go buy some!” Paheli stomps out of the room, and soon we hear the front door close.

“What’s wrong with her?” Taraana asks no one in particular.

“Forgive her, she doesn’t know what to do with feelings,” Areum replies, with a big grin on her pixie face. “She hasn’t had them very often.”

“What feelings?” Taraana asks.

We look at each other for a moment.

“Oh dear,” Daraja says softly.

II.

We wake early in the morning and make our way to our favorite restaurant a few blocks away. We sit on benches at a trestle table at the back of the restaurant that is all but groaning under the weight of the food we ordered.

Widad enjoys Turkish cheeses the most. She loves the pungent taste of Tulum but will always choose the fiery flavor of smoked cheese over it any day. Daraja and Areum adore sucuk, a spicy sausage served in thin slices along with bread and cheese. Kamboja’s favorite is an egg dish called menemen, which contains tomatoes, green peppers, and spices. It smells intoxicating and we all demand bites, which Kamboja grudgingly gives. Valentina eats simit, which is a fancy name for a pretzel-type bread coated with sesame seeds. We all enjoy börek, which is made of layered phyllo pastry and filled with meat, potatoes, greens, or cheese. To help wash it all down, we drink countless cups of black tea from Rize.

Replete, we set out to look for the middle-world creature who acts as a fount for all sorts of information for us and probably many others. Like the Greenich in Beirut, we give him Between diamonds in return for information.