Page 87 of Written By a Woman
“Of course,” Aarna stood taller, looking up at Mrs. Ansara as she met us both at my desk.
“Thank you for letting us interrupt my son’s workday.” Mrs. Ansara spoke to me with a kind smile attached, her eyes lingering on me in my seat for a moment longer than she had before.
I gave her a bright smile in return, the anxiety in my body leaving me in waves as I settled in the knowledge of what a flop this whole situation was. How I was still the one going out to dinner with Zaid after work. How Aarna wasn’t even remotely interested in, who I considered, the sweetest man in Orange County.
“Any time,” I desperately wanted her approval, which seemed silly considering she had no idea who I was, but I couldn’t stop myself from adding, “Also, Zaid has been sharing your leftovers with me. I know we just met, but I wanted to let you know that I think you are aphenomenalcook. The days you send him home with too much food to eat on his own are my favorite ones.”
Mrs. Ansara hesitated her departure at my words, her body only partially turned to face me as she studied me with her dark eyes that matched her son’s in color.
“Oh,” Mrs. Ansara looked like she had to gather herself, which made me feel a little self-conscious for the unsolicited compliment I attempted to throw her way, “Yes. I’m glad that he’s not letting the leftovers that I give him go to waste.”
Something about the way she emphasized certain words in that sentence threw me off, but she smiled and waved as she and Aarna finally stepped back on the elevators and left the building.
As the doors closed behind them, I released a very heavy exhale of relief, right when my cell buzzed with the arrival of a text.
I glanced down and grinned.
Zaid: Sorry about that. My mother won’t be bringing random women to the office again.
Me: It’s alright, I’m not worried about it. That must have been jarring for you to deal with in the middle of your workday though.
Zaid: A little.
Zaid: But there’s only a few hours left before we clock out and I can have you all to myself.
I felt my heart take off in my chest, fanning my collar away from my neck as I asked myself,is it hot in here?
Me: Looking forward to it.
* * *
ZAID
“Can we talk about the weird thing that happened today, or do you want to keep ignoring it?” Signe asked right after the waiter set our dishes in front of us.
“Um,” I cleared my throat, wondering what exactly her thoughts were on my mother obviously trying to set me up on a date, “Sure.” I reached for my glass of water, an attempt to hydrate my throat so I didn’t panic throughout the entirety of this conversation.
“You can unclench your butthole,” Signe replied, making me choke on my drink for the second time in her presence, “I know that you were super uncomfortable with your mother showing up.”
I patted my chest to help me inhale a breath of air before giving her a smile, “I was. Very much so.”
Signe nodded, casually stirring her curry with her spoon, “I was, too. I didn’t picture meeting your mother like that.”
I paused my own movements to give her a look, “You’ve pictured meeting my mother?”
“Well, yeah,” she took a quick bite of her curry before swallowing and grinning at me, “Obviously I want to meet the woman who has been feeding me the past few weeks.” I grinned at her, “I told her I loved her cooking.”
That made my heart jump in my chest, “What did you say, exactly?”
Signe ripped a piece of naan and dipped it into her curry as she replied, “Just that I loved her cooking, and how I appreciated her giving you more leftovers than you can eat yourself.”
Shit.
It was a small detail, perhaps a detail that could go past my mother.
Hell, who was I kidding? My mother was a very intelligent and observant woman. She would remember thatIhad been the one specifically asking for extra leftovers the last few weeks and that she hadn’t forced the extra food on me at all.
To hear Signe claim thatshewas the one giving me extra leftovers, she would start to put some things together before I was ready for her to.
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