“I’m happy to do it.” I replied in a hushed tone over the lump in my throat. I was overjoyed that Fatima felt taken care of.
Fatima’s cheeks turned red again and she scooted an inch closer toward me.
A few moments later the food was finally done. I set everything before Fatima and held my breath hoping that she’d like at least one dish.
Chapter 12
Fatima
Usually the smell of so much food would send me running out the door, but Zander had been truly thoughtful in his choice of cuisines. Everything was a mix of sweet and savory, which I very much preferred.
My stomach growled as I took in the sight of sausage covered in nectar, the flat bread version of french toast, steak and eggs covered in more sweet nectar and fruit, and the list goes on.
“Did you invent most of these dishes?” I’d never seen Orsu or Julie serve any of these before.
Zander shyly ran a hand through his long brown hair and nodded. “I figured you would best tolerate things that were both sweet and savory. My goal is to get more protein in your diet. You’ve lost some weight, which isn’t what you’re supposed to do when you’re pregnant.”
I let out a laugh. He was right, I had lost some weight since my morning sickness started.
“Do you not prefer my slimmer figure?” I teased.
“No,” he grunted. The word was firm and resolute and made my cheeks heat. I figured as much, but I wanted to hear him say it.
“Which dish will you choose first?” He asked, his tail lashing behind him impatiently. He’d worked very hard on this dinner and it was clear he wanted to see if I approved.
“I think I’ll choose this one.” It was a crispy pastry that Zander must have fried in the bacon grease he had boiling in a pot by the fire.
I delicately picked up a triangular shaped pastry and nearly cried when the flavors burst on my tongue. A nutty paste mixed with honey filled my mouth and reminded me of the Almond Briouats my mother would make for me and my siblings. I had taken on a lot of responsibilities at home, but my mother always cooked, and her Almond Briouats were my favorite dessert.
An errant tear streamed down my face as I chewed the delectable treat. I felt Zander move beside me, and the pad of his finger brush my tear away.
“I’m so sorry, Fatima. If you don’t like the food you don’t have to eat it. I can get rid of it all.”
He started to pick up the clay bowl of Almond Briouats. “No!” I grabbed his wrist to stop him.
“Please, my mother used to make a dessert just like this. These have brought me more joy than you could ever realize.”
His shoulders relaxed at my confession and he set the bowl back down.
“So you like it?” he asked in a hesitant tone.
“Yes, very much,” I smiled up at him. “I’m crying because I’m happy.”
“I am glad to see your happy tears then,” he returned my smile with one of his own.
I happily tried every dish laid before me and was pleasantly surprised that only a few made me feel queasy.
“I like these three the best,” I commented as I moved three dishes to the center of the table.
Zander eyed the dishes I’d chosen and gave me a bright smile. “Then you will have this for breakfast lunch and dinner everyday.”
“You don’t have-” I began but Zander put a finger to my mouth.
“I want to,” he assured me and I didn’t protest any more.
“Do you have any more of those pastries?” I asked. The bowl of Briouats was sadly empty now that I’d eaten them all. This was the most full I’d felt in two weeks, and I was overjoyed to finally have food that didn’t make me feel sick.
“No, but perhaps we can make some more together,” Zander suggested.
