CHAPTER 20

ZARIA

 

“But Zaria,” she paused, not looking back.

I held my breath.

“You… you eat small,” she said finally. “Later you come kitchen.”

Then she left.

I lay there for a long minute after the door closed, staring at the wall, my heart still beating too fast for something that sounded so normal.

Eat small. Come kitchen. She said it as if my body hadn’t just betrayed me on the floor. There was puke…everywhere, and I was pregnant. Yet she was acting normal.

Wasn't that alarming?

I pushed myself up slowly again. My stomach still felt unsettled, but the nausea had faded into something hungry. How could I feel weak, sick, and hungry at the same time? It was annoying and confusing.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth carefully, moving more slowly than usual. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself.

Fucking hell, Zaria.

My eyes looked tired, my face was thinner, and my hand hovered over my stomach, for just a second before I pulled it away like I’d been burned.

Don’t do that.

I changed into a loose shirt and stepped out into the hallway.

_____________

The house smelled like oil and something fried, mixed with rice. Now that was a real breakfast Mama Li always made even when there wasn’t much money.

My feet carried me there to find the kitchen alive.

Mama Li stood at the stove, moving a pan like an expert. Her hair was tied back and she had a neutral expression like nothing had happened an hour ago. I averted my gaze to Thomas sitting at the small table with his shoulders hunched and…his spoon already moving in a bowl.

He looked up when he saw me.

“You wake,” he said simply.

“Yeah,” I answered, my voice coming out softer than I meant it to.

Mama Li turned slightly. Her eyes landed on me and stayed there a second too long before she looked back at the pan.

“There rice,” she said. “Egg. Little soup. You sit.”

I nodded, even though she found it difficult to speak English fluently, and moved to the table, pulling out a chair slowly. My body felt heavier than it should so I sat down carefully, as someone might suddenly point at me and say it out loud.

She set a bowl in front of me. White rice, still steaming lightly. A fried egg on top with the edges of the yolk crisp. There was a small dish of soup on the side with bits of green floating in it.

My stomach twisted again, but this time it wasn’t nausea. It was nerves.

I picked up the spoon.

Mama Li sat across from me, folding her hands in her lap. She didn’t start eating right away and just watched, but not openly. I felt it anyway as I scooped a small amount of rice and egg. My hand shook a little as I brought it to my mouth.

I chewed slowly, forcing myself to swallow. The food tasted good. So good.

I avoided looking up.

Thomas kept eating, spoon scraping softly against his bowl. He would slurp, scrape then slurp again. The sound felt loud in the quiet kitchen. I took another bite…

Mama Li cleared her throat.

“You eat slow,” she said.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

She nodded once. “Slow good.”

I focused on the rice, on the texture, and on not throwing up. On not crying or noticing the way my shirt pulled a little differently when I breathed in. I didn't notice the way Mama Li’s eyes kept flicking down and then away again. I lifted the bowl slightly and took a sip of the soup. It was warm and light, settling my stomach well.

My shoulders slowly lowered from around my ears.

Thomas stopped eating.

He looked from me to Mama Li and back again, his brow furrowing.

“This,” he said slowly, waving his spoon between us, “this verystrange.”

Mama Li didn’t look at him. “Eat your food.”

“No,” he said. “I cannot.”

He slammed his spoon down on the table. The sound made me flinch and my spoon clattered softly against my bowl.

“I cannot take this,” he said, his voice rising. “This awkward thing. Like flies in a room, nobody talk, everybody pretend blind.”

Mama Li shot him a thin look. “Thomas.”

He ignored it.

“I sit here,” he continued, gesturing around the table, “and I watch her eat like she scared of food. I watch you watch her like you watch pot burn. I am not stupid man.”

My chest tightened.

I stared down at my bowl, my appetite disappearing fast.

Thomas leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I know,” he said bluntly. “I know you pregnant, Zaria. I can see babybump.”

I felt the blood rush to my face.

“I don’t know why Mama Li pretend she not see,” he went on, “And I don’t know why both of you act like awkward flies, bumping wall, not saying truth.”

“Thomas,” Mama Li gritted out again.

He turned to her. “What? You think I blind? You think I notnotice how she walk slow, how you run into her room…?”

I swallowed hard.

Mama Li finally looked at me properly. Her face didn’t change much, but something in her eyes dimmed.

She was… disappointed in me.

I couldn’t breathe right.

“I…” I started, then stopped. My throat closed around the words. My eyes burned. I shook my head once, feeling ultimately small and useless.

What's this shitty feeling?

Thomas sighed heavily and stood up, pushing his chair back. “This house,” he said, rubbing his face, “too small for big silence.”

Mama Li closed her eyes briefly.

“You sit,” she told him. “Please, Thomas.”

He hesitated, then sat back down, grumbling under his breath.

Mama Li reached out and nudged the bowl gently. “Eat,” she said softly. “You need food.”

I nodded and forced another small spoon into my mouth, chewing mechanically while my heart hammered against my ribs.

Nothing was hidden anymore.