The Ibutatu Estate, Isla Dzum
“I don’t mind,” Aremu tried to say, awkwardly, “if you’d like me to make tea. But,” he could feel the frown deepening a little in his forehead; he looked down, and then up again, searching her face briefly, and not lingering elsewhere.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Aremu said, quietly. “It’s my hope that you’ll be comfortable here.”
He couldn’t bring himself to go on then; perhaps, he thought, uneasily, there was nothing more to add. It was a strange feeling, and his shoulders tightened against it, just a little.
There was a sink; the whole of the house had running water, an installation which Uzoji set up years ago. Aremu had learned his way around the pipes, though he wasn’t an expert. He filled up the kettle again and set it to boiling; the stove, at least, he was confident Aurelie could use on her own. The cascaras he dumped out the back door, into the soil of the kofi plants there.
“There’s, ah,” Aremu took Aurelie to the larder, and took down the tins, one by one, “some black tea, Hessean,” Aremu said, “and from the Steppes. The Hessean is rather good; I’d use the Steppe tea if you want to mix it with other things. For tisanes, there are plenty of herbs: hibiscus, mint, chamomile, rooibos, sage,” Aremu rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, opening the rooibos tin and holding it out to Aurelie with a little smile.
“There’s also - I was drinking,” Aremu set the tins back down and took down a larger jar, opening it to show Aurelie the red and brown shells inside. “It’s the kofi shells, actually, from the beans. Steeped, it makes a floral sort of tea.”
She was very close to him, now; she smelled like the soap he had brought, floral and a little spicy. Aremu cleared his throat, oddly conscious of it; he kept far enough away that the soft skirt of her little dress didn’t brush him.
I didn’t mean to ask, he’d wanted to say, when she’d said Ana had picked out the dress, or to dredge up - I’m sorry, he had wanted to say. If he had spoiled things, though, she hadn’t given any sign of it.
When he’d gone through all the herbs, Aremu stepped back a little, leaving her space as best as he could, his right wrist still in his pocket, as it had been throughout. As it should, he thought, have been all along. “What do you like?” He asked. “There isn’t any milk, but there is sugar, if you’d want that.”
In general, Aremu thought, he drank kofi. Sometimes he had tea - as he had today - from the cascaras. He thought of Tom making mint tea for him fondly, very fondly, but he didn’t make it on his own. Ahura liked to mix the herbs; sometimes she would set something down for him after dinner, rarely telling him what was in it; and, dutifully, he would drink it. It was usually good, or so he felt.
Most of these herbs they had used more - before. Back, Aremu thought, frowning, when there had been a ship tied up often enough on the platform outside, back when the house hadn’t been so... quiet.
He smiled at Aurelie through the worst of such thoughts; there was a breeze drifting through the kitchen, tousling the thin fine strands of her hair just a little. Now you know, he wanted to say. Whenever you like - whatever you like - whatever is here and is mine to share, I’m happy to offer.
”if you’re not sure,” Aremu said instead, smiling a little more, “then we’ll try something together and um, see how it goes.”