Page 119 of Harvest of Sighs (Thornchapel 3)
“Fufu with light soup.” I got her a fresh glass of water. She would need it. “It’s comfort food. Here, watch.” I showed her how to pinch off pieces of the soft, doughy fufu and use it to soak up the soup, which was made with tomatoes, onions, eggplant, chicken, garlic, ginger, spices, and—
“Oh g-golly—” Delphine coughed, sputtering.
—and shito peppers. Probably a couple Scotch Bonnets too, if I knew Auntie. I pushed the water glass closer to Delphine, and she took it gratefully, looking up at me over the rim with the look of a puppy who’d just been kicked.
“It’s quite spicy,” I conceded. “But you’ll feel better soon. You’ll see.”
Delphine set the glass down and looked at her bowl with trepidation. “Are you sure?”
“It’s comfort food. Whenever I was sick, my mother made this for me, and I always felt better after eating it. Probably because whenever you eat fufu, the next thing you want to do is take a long nap, and who doesn’t feel better after a long nap?”
Delphine’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “Fair dues.”
“Go on,” I urged her. “Have some more.”
“And no—no spoon?”
I gave her a look. A look I gave both subs and interns at the office when they deserved it. “Fufu is the spoon. Come on, Delph.”
The nickname slid between my lips before I could stop it, and it seemed to take us both by surprise. Nicknames were for friends, and we weren’t that, we would never be friends. Yes, I was helping her, yes, I was feeding her my favorite food, yes, she was seeing parts of my life that only romantic conquests and Auden Guest saw. But that didn’t mean I liked her. That didn’t mean she was Delph to me.
I hid my discomfort by bending back over the bowl and eating again.
After a moment, she did too, her cheeks turning pink and her pert little nose slowly turning a bright red. She was in a tank top and pajama bottoms, and the tank top was low enough to expose the top part of her chest, which was also a little flushed with the spice. But she ate it all—enough to make even Ma happy—and I was a little discomfited by how happy I felt about it myself. A satisfaction had swelled in my chest at seeing her eat, at seeing her color return. The same satisfaction I felt during a good scene, during good sex. A primal, carnal pleasure.
This is dangerous, Rebecca, a voice warned me. I ignored it.
I was hardly in any danger of becoming besotted with Delphine Dansey.
“You’ll wash your hands and brush your teeth again,” I told her. “And then it’s time for bed. Our fufu nap.”
“Yes, Rebecca.” She did as I asked, and I cleaned up after us, went and brushed my own teeth. I put my hair up in my bonnet and changed into pajamas in the bathroom. I went to my bed to grab a pillow and then started off toward the living area.
“Where are you going?” Delphine asked.
I turned and looked back at her. She was standing next to the bed, seeming very lost and very sweet. I had the sudden, powerful urge to take her into my arms, and I had to force myself to stay where I was.
“I thought I’d sleep on the sofa while you were here,” I explained. “So you didn’t have to share the bed.”
“I don’t want to sleep alone,” she said sadly.
It was the first thing she’d told me she wanted since she came here.
My body was a riot of confusion—part of me rebelled at the idea of sharing my bed with her, and the other part of me kindled to life, thinking of plush curves and warm secrets.
But it would be better to say no, right? More proper?
More thoughtful and host-like?
But it turned out that it wasn’t up to me, not really. One look at her face, with those mournful eyes and that delicate pout, and I was already heading back to bed. “I just want you to know that I talk in my sleep,” I warned her. “And sometimes I steal blankets. And I don’t snuggle.”
Delphine was already tucking herself into bed, bothered not at all by my prickly qualifications. “Yes, Rebecca,” she said.
And when I woke up the next morning, I found her snuggled against me, her hair on my pillow and her arm and leg curled over me, as if I were a long teddy bear given to her to cuddle.
I waited for the irritation to come. The discomfort.
It never did.
