by Yetinayet

"Qrebu!"

She looked very good - not a hair out of place, manicured and stylish. Her resentment warred with that ingrained hospitality as she invited us to the table; there would be just the three of us for dinner. As was the custom, she served the dulet first. The quirky part of my brain...the part given to the oddest flights of fancy...marveled at how this was probably the most ironically appropriate of dishes for us to eat, together.

Although she had been the one who had extended the invitation, and had persisted, perhaps having me witness their marital bliss had been sweeter in the anticipation. The air vibrated with the tension that was sure to be unleashed in many little ways for days to come. After tonight, I would be spared its sting.

I had stayed on the move for years, as he waited for some indication that I was done with the wandering...and as she waited for him to give up hope. I was now here to be taught a lesson about patience. And I had been feeling lost enough to accept the invitation, and do my penance.

That old, tired joke sprang immediately to mind and I thought, absurdly, of yelling out "Alecha, kulaleet!" Mine could have warned me to think about the idiocy of this. Hers could have warned her about the double-edged qurTet that comes with resurrecting old ghosts.

I spooned a heaping portion of dulet on my plate and waited for my hostess to be seated. Her eyes darted back and forth, vigilant and restless. She ate very little.

The meal continued, each dish in the lengthy parade a testament to the formidable talents of the lady of the house, though nothing came close to the first course in both flavor and impact. I ate with great appreciation, returning again and again to that dulet, and pretended not to notice the stilted conversation and forced laughter.

"Mn yCHemer?"

"Nothing, thanks. I've had enough."

"Duletu'n wededshw?"

"It's delicious...it was all delicious."

I could have said more, but it would have gone beyond the accepted niceties. I came to pay homage to the wedding memories, the house ground-breaking video, and the children's birthday pictures. With your gebeta as complete as it is, I hope you won't miss the extra pound of flesh you had planned for.

I love dulet - have I mentioned that? I may have little taste for the individual ingredients in this most magical mix, but somehow the combination was irresistible, especially when it's made with anjet-yemyarss qbE and issat-yelase qaria, and the mouth-watering mix of shnkurt, miTmiTa, korerima. And salt.

I had come tonight expecting to open up new wounds for myself; it came as no surprise that she'd expected the same thing. We both had had a surprise.

I left, replete.