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She’d been reunited with Angela for three months now. It was perfectly normal to invite her over for dinner and a glass of wine. After all, it was simply catching up with a new old friend. What wasn’t normal was how nervous she was feeling. She’d prepared everything. Bought tomatoes, chickpeas and pasta. She already had the spices and rice necessary for the dish. She’d sliced the onions into thin rings and she’d soaked the rice. Everything was ready and she simply needed to cook it when she had picked up Angela from the aid camp. A task which she had to do soon.
She paced around her apartment, sometimes stopping to check herself out in her mirror, making sure that her blouse was tucked in that way which framed her body masculinely, accentuating muscles that had to be hidden underneath a large leather jacket for the trip down to Angela’s workplace. A place which she’d become achingly familiar with ever since she was sent on sick leave. Her shoulder still ached from the wound and it would still be long before she was expected to return to service. Meanwhile she spent a lot of time with Angela. She looked in the mirror again and made sure that not a single hair was astray before putting on her old leather jacket and grabbing her keys from their place in the entrance. She was ready to go.
…
The aid camp was situated a small trip away from Cairo. She knew Angela rode the crowded bus every day and walked about one kilometer there. Fareeha had the luxury of being able to drive to work herself, and park right outside. It was convenient since her work took her to many destinations in Egypt and sometimes across the globe. Today she was picking up Angela, a task which she had prepared for by digging through her cellar for an extra helmet for Angela. She hoped the older woman wouldn’t be too nervous to ride her bike. In her adult years she’d become quite risk averse, Fareeha noticed.
She parked her bike and walked inside the camp, greeting doctors and nurses who’d come to expect her at least once a week as Angela’s companion. Sometimes Fareeha would come with coffee and hawawshi or other light meals for the tired doctor. She’d noticed how skinny Angela had become since the last time she saw her. It had been many years, and Angela had always been thin, but Fareeha thought she looked thinner than she ought, and so she’d taken it upon herself to make sure Angela ate. It wasn’t that Angela seemed opposed to food. She always ate slowly and with much precision, never spilling a single crumb. Fareeha never commented on this fact, though she picked up on quite a few of Angela’s small habits. Like how she didn’t seem to have much of a preference for any particular brand of coffee, but she was an expert on all things related to tea. She’d even brewed Fareeha a cup once.
Finally, she arrived in the tent where Angela made her makeshift office. The doctor was sitting at her desk writing notes by hand when Fareeha walked in. Without looking up she uttered, “Two seconds.” in heavily accented Arabic.
“You’re getting better.” Fareeha replied in English.
“Fareeha!” She exclaimed and grinned. She rose up from her chair in order to give Fareeha a hug in greeting. Fareeha hugged her back briefly. “There’s definitely still room for improvement, but I no longer get judgmental looks from the nurses when I try to communicate with them.”
“Maybe they’ve just gotten used to your broken Arabic.” She teased.
“Ha. Ha.” Angela said and returned to her desk where she picked up the paper. “Just give me a moment and I’ll be done with this.”
Fareeha nodded and sat down in the chair placed awkwardly in the opposite corner of the room. She looked at Angela writing on the paper and wondered what it was about, before concluding that it was some medical thing and she shouldn’t bother her. Her hair was in disarray after a long day of work and she’d tied it in a loose bun that was falling apart. She had her reading glasses on and they hung slightly down her nose, in a way that highlighted the straightness of the bridge of her nose. If Fareeha was closer she’d be able to see freckles peppered across it. She’d been close enough to see them many times, and they never ceased to catch her attention.
“You’re staring…” Angela muttered just loud enough for Fareeha to hear.
“Sorry. I’m just wondering what you’re writing.” She spoke a half truth.
“Every day I write down my activities for the day, including the status of the patients I’ve treated. I’ve been trying to write in Arabic but it looks completely illegible when I write, so I had to rewrite it in english…” She trailed off, furrowed her brow and chewed lightly on the pen.
“Practice makes perfect.”
“You say that, but you haven’t read anything I’ve written.” Angela sighed.
Fareeha let the conversation die out and put her hands behind her head while she waited for Angela to finish. When she did she exclaimed a satisfied “done!” and straightened the papers. She explained that she’d have to hand them in to the one taking over her shift, and asked Fareeha to wait by the parking lot while she got changed.
When Angela arrived at the parking lot she was wearing a tight short sleeve turtleneck and black dress pants, which Fareeha definitely saw her in earlier.
“You can’t ride a bike like that Angela.” Fareeha said and scrunched her face in a disappointed motion.
“I’m sorry but I don’t have anything else.”
“Guess you’ll have to walk then.” Fareeha began unlocking the back compartment of her bike, where her extra helmet was stowed away.
“You can’t be serious.” Angela crossed her arms and furrowed her brow.
“Oh, I am.” Fareeha took out the extra helmet and a jacket. “
Not
. I figured you wouldn’t be dressed for the occasion.”
Angela took the helmet and the jacket from her. “I am dressed perfectly fine for our da-...” She paused. “Day. Together.” Fareeha didn’t miss how redness crept up her neck. Was Angela…? She looked at her quizzically.
“Let’s go!” Angela exclaimed. Fareeha decided to let it slide and not read too much into it.
…
The bike trip was uneventful except for how tight Angela held her. It would have been nice was it not for how her body still ached after being injured, the painkillers she’d been prescribed only taking the top off. When they arrived she unlocked her door, took off her shoes and, like a gentleman, took Angela’s jacket.
“And they say chivalry is dead.” Angela joked.
“Never with me.” She replied.
Fareeha entered her living room and immediately turned on the radio, tuning it to a channel that also played western music and turning the volume down to a comfortable level. Angela stood in the entrance still and simply regarded her.
“You know you can come in?” She smiled patiently at the other woman, who took a few awkward steps into the living room.
Fareeha’s apartment was a simple one in design. She had a bedroom and a living room which was connected to the kitchen. While the idea of this was nice, she found that whenever she cooked, the smell of spices lingered in the air for a long time, and she always had to open the windows to the small balcony. Angela had visited a few times but she never seemed comfortable initially.
“If you want a shower you can take one, while I prepare our dinner.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” Angela asked.
“Yeah. Most of it is already cut and just needs to be prepared.” Fareeha stepped over to Angela and touched her wrist. “I’ll find a towel for you. You can also borrow my hair dryer.”
She absentmindedly reached up and touched her hair. The locks were soft against her fingers. However, when she met Angela’s confused gaze she quickly retracted her hand, and smiled awkwardly. Angela looked down at the floor before looking up again and meeting her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Sure.” Angela finally mumbled, picking at her nails.
Fareeha followed her into the bathroom and found a towel for her. When she’d shown her how her shower worked she left her and went to the kitchen where she began boiling lentils and rice. While the rice cooked she heated oil in a pan and added onions, spices and tomato sauce. On the radio, a song played that she’d grown familiar with. It was an Arabic song about a man and a woman falling in love despite coming from two different social classes. Tariq had originally played it for her one day while they were out for beers, and she’d joked with him that he hopefully didn’t have hidden motives with the song. He assured her that he knew her preferences despite her never telling him and they didn’t speak much more of it.
She added tomatoes and vinegar to the pot, and brought another pot of water to boil.
It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was a lesbian. She just never really found it relevant to mention. She wasn’t sure that Angela knew, but she might have figured it out by her general demeanor. She also wasn’t sure if she should tell her. She probably should. But when was the right time? She always hated coming out. She wasn’t even sure where Angela stood on the matter. Last time she saw her was when they had a trio with Cole. Was Angela ever different with Cole than she was with her? Cole was certainly older than Fareeha, so she must’ve felt different about him somehow.
The water bubbled furiously and spilled everywhere on her stovetop. Shit. This was also around the same time she heard the shower turn off. Angela was quick, she thought and resumed her cooking after cleaning up the excess water. She added chickpeas to a microwave safe container and heated up oil in yet another skillet after having drained the rice and lentils. It wasn’t long before Angela emerged from the shower. Her hair was damp and hung loosely around her shoulders. She looked pretty.
Fuck this.
Fareeha needed to admit to herself what she felt for the other woman. It wasn’t like there was too much to lose. Angela was a good companion and fun to talk with, but she’d always been able to find a woman to love. Or at least to combat her loneliness. However, a part of her also sensed something more. To the surprise of most people, she was actually quite spiritual. She believed in things such as fate and the power of nature. And she wasn’t one to not shed a tear during a particular touching scene in a movie. While all of this was true, this was not a side of her that most people saw. She had to be strong and brave and most of all a dependable leader. There wasn’t time for vulnerability.
“This looks like quite a project.” Angela butted in.
“I’m almost done. I just need to fry these onions.”
“What are you making?” Angela inquired.
She tossed the onions in the pan.
“You know how I’ve been expanding your horizons?”
Angela nodded.
“This is an egyptian stable. My mother used to make it for me whenever we had some time just the two of us.”
“That’s sweet that you’re sharing it with me then.” Angela smiled softly.
“I’ve always thought of food as a way for people to get closer together. I want to be closer to you.”
Was that too forward?
“I’ll make you some swiss food one day.” Angela replied in kind.
Probably not.
“I’d like that.” She stirred the pan again, turned down the heat and tended to the pastas she’d put in the other pot. “Although, isn’t swiss food very meaty? I can’t eat that.”
“You’re vegetarian?” Angela looked at her curiously.
“I’ve never told you this?” She asked and turned off the stovetop.
Angela shook her head. “It’s fine though. I can just make you rösti. Or give you a lot of cheese and chocolate.” She laughed. A melodic sound. “Even though that would not be very healthy for you.”
Fareeha drained the pasta as well and opened the cupboard, an action which was promptly stopped by a hand on her shoulder.
“Let me.” Angela said.
“No, you’re my guest. I can’t possibly ask that of you.”
“I like to feel useful, Fareeha.” She said in that certain tone Angela is able to do, where you know you’re not supposed to argue with her, because you’d only lose. Fareeha had heard it quite a few times now. She let Angela take out plates and cutlery while she assembled the dish in a large platter. When it was ready she took it out to the table where Angela had lit the stumps of candles Fareeha had leftover. She felt slightly embarrassed that she hadn’t bought new ones for their hangout.
“Do you drink alcohol?” She asked Angela.
“Oh god, yes.” She replied and Fareeha raised her brows. She quickly followed up. “Sorry. Yes, I do.” Angela blushed again.
Fareeha pulled out a wine from her cupboard and poured it into two glasses she sat gently on the table in front of Angela and herself. She then took a carafe of water and sat as well. They were now ready to eat.
Fareeha had never had low self-esteem regarding her cooking, but suddenly she felt pressured as Angela took her first bite. She didn’t say anything, but she took another, which was a good sign.
“You know. I’m going to be honest with you.” She said. Fareeha feared the worst. “From looking at it, it looks a bit weird. But the taste is actually very… comforting.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Fareeha said and merrily took bites out of her own plate.
Angela took a big sip of her wine. Then she asked, much to Fareeha’s surprise, “Is this how you treat all the women you bring home?”
Play it cool.
“Exactly. This is all part of my grand plan to seduce you.” Fareeha tried to look confident, but in reality she was trembling inside, feeling like her heart might leap out of her chest. She didn’t know what Angela was planning by asking such a question. She attempted to calmly take a sip of her wine, hopefully not giving away how flabbergasted she was by the question.
“I see.” Angela said. Fareeha waited for more words from her, but they never came. Angela smiled coyly and looked at Fareeha with her stunning sky blue eyes.
She could fall in love with her.
She might have already.
She attempted to keep the conversation alive, “How about you? How do you treat the people you bring home.” She still wasn’t sure Angela was into women, so she’d opted to use a gender neutral term. Although, she was beginning to get an inkling that Angela might at the very least be flirting with her.
“Unfortunately, I’m usually the one being brought home.” Angela took a bite of her food and chewed slowly. Fareeha waited patiently for her to continue. “But that hasn’t happened in a long time.”
Fareeha took a sip of her wine. A little liquid courage. She then asked, in a tone too serious for Angela to not notice her true feelings, “Until now?”
Angela laid down her fork and looked at Fareeha, eyes wide and lips pursed. “You tell me.”
Fareeha was speechless. She had to say something at one point, but she knew that sometimes actions spoke louder than words, so she just smiled. A wide grin that reached her eyes and spread warmth all throughout her body. Angela smiled back at her, softly.
They ate in silence, Fareeha enjoying the way the tomato sauce mixed with the rice and pasta. Angela had almost finished her plate, and Fareeha felt proud that she’d taken so well to the dish. She made a note to cook more food for Angela. Perhaps something with falafel next time. After the prior conversation she was sure she would get the opportunity again, perhaps as something more than just friends. She wasn’t ready to enter a romantic relationship but she was beginning to grow curious as to where her relation with Angela would lead her.
They cleaned the plates, Angela washing them and Fareeha drying them and putting them back in their place. There were enough leftovers for a portion tomorrow and the day after. Perhaps she’d made too much food. When they were done they grabbed the wine and sat down in Fareeha’s living room, Angela on one side of the couch and Fareeha on the other, their feet almost touching. Angela had taken a white fluffy blanket and draped over herself. She looked like a model for a magazine. Had Fareeha been bolder she would have told her. But for now she was content just observing the other woman.
Angela broke the comfortable silence between them. “May I confess something to you?” Fareeha nodded. Angela continued, “I’ve never been with a woman before, even if I am attracted to them.” Fareeha raised her brows, and Angela smiled solemnly. “I guess I just never prioritized love.” She slid her foot out from the blanket so their legs were touching. “Although… Now, I feel I’m in more of a quiet place, so I have time to explore that part of my identity.”
Fareeha was absolutely certain now. Angela was flirting with her. And so she decided that she’d flirt back. “And my role in all of this?”
“If you want to, I’d like to kiss you now.” Angela said and looked at her in a way she couldn’t quite place. It was somewhere between serious and hopeful.
“I’d like that very much.” She replied and watched as Angela crept out from under the blanket and crawled over to Fareeha, so she was directly in front of her. Fareeha laid her legs flat on the couch so Angela could climb on top of her lap. When she did, she also placed a hand on the armrest behind her, for balance, and one on Fareeha’s cheek, for tenderness. Fareeha placed her own hands on Angela’s hips, delighted to feel her curves beneath her touch. She waited patiently as Angela simply looked at her, and traced her thumb against her tattoo. Then she kissed her. It was soft and it tingled slightly. She tasted like dark wine and she smelled of citrus, Fareeha’s shampoo. The kiss was short. Angela was the one to break it. She shifted in Fareeha’s lap, their bodies closer together now, and she kissed her again.
Fareeha let Angela control the situation, not wanting to rush her. She simply enjoyed being kissed. Lightly, then deeper, Angela’s hand soon travelling further down Fareeha’s body. She moved it and held it in her own. There was time for that another day. She had a feeling this was only the beginning for them. For now, she simply wanted to enjoy her company.