Their mother took one look around the room and sighed with a smile.
"And how did the living room come to look like this?"
She asked, already looking at Mary who was now smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of her head.
"Sorry mom we got a bit carried away."
She said, nudging Alicia who was now blushing from embarrassment. Mark shook his head with an amused expression as he walked over to his mother.
"Let me help with that."
He said, taking the plastic bags out of her hands and carrying them into the kitchen. The plastic crinkled loud against his fingers, handles digging into his palms.
"Thanks dear."
She says, taking her lab coat off while placing it on the couch. The fabric was faintly starched, smelling of hospital soap and cold air from outside. She stretches her arms over her shoulders after that, resulting in a satisfying pop sound that cracked through the quiet room, then she looks at Mary and Alicia and smiles.
"You were about to clean right, don't let me stop you."
She says lightly but the unmistakable order in that tone doesn't escape Mary and she starts cleaning up, cushions thumping back onto the couch, feet shuffling fast. As they clean she goes upstairs to change out of her hospital outfit into something more comfortable, stairs creaking under her steps.
Meanwhile Mark places the groceries in order in the fridge, in order of veggies from meat and even the colour of the item as reference, the fridge light buzzing and cold air spilling over his forearms. This is because Mark happened to be a bit of a clean freak, not to the point of being overbearing but enough to want everything in order. Cans clicked against the shelf, labels facing forward.
"There, all done."
He murmured to himself while placing the last can of canned beans in the cardboard. After that he started washing veggies that he assumed would be used for cooking dinner, water running cold then warm over his knuckles, droplets splashing his white shirt, and as he was doing so his mother entered wearing an outfit similar to his with the only difference being the pink morning gown over her ensemble, soft fleece whispering as she moved.
"Already washing the veggies, didn't I tell you I'd be cooking tonight."
She says but there's no heat behind her words, just a tired fondness.
"I thought I'd give you a head start, besides I have nothing better to do."
He shrugged. 'Well except those map calculations.'
He thought to himself as a small smile appeared. His mother chuckled as if she could read his last thought, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Well if you say so."
She said, walking closer to the stove, slippers soft on the tile. As she does Mark passes the dish of already washed veggies without a word, water still beading on the rim, and his mother receives them as she takes out a knife in the nearby drawer, metal scraping, then proceeded to cut the vegetables with high proficiency. The blade thocked rhythmically against the board, fast, even, clean.
This always surprised Mark to a degree because her proficiency in cutting was very impressive and he attributed it to her steady hands as a head nurse back in Zimbabwe and now as a Doctor in Brookhaven and from what he'd seen in these past two weeks he was sure she'd have improved because his mother worked very well under pressure.
He was fairly sure that's one of the reasons she chose her profession. As she was cutting, the sharp fresh smell of onions rising, Mark decided to hold a little small talk.
"So how's work at the hospital."
He asked curiously while leaning on the table, wood cool against his elbows.
"Its alot, these Americans can't seem to get away from trouble, especially teens like you. Everyday there's always a batch of kids injured or beaten. Last week there was even an accident of 30 guys attacking two people at once. I didn't get to see it but I heard that the two actually drove them away, one was blonde and the other had a tattoo on his neck so I was told."
She said in Shona, not slowing down on the vegetable cutting, knife never pausing. As she spoke Mark already knew who she meant, Adrian had told them about how he was attacked at the hospital and was helped by Sato. That's how he got the cut over his eye, just on the slight edge of his eyebrow after all.
"I see, it does sound busy."
Mark said calmly, placing two pots of water on the stove and turning them on, the gas clicking then whooshing blue. To which his mother placed the cut vegetables in and proceeded to cut meat, the board now slick.
"It is busy but these past few days they've been a lot more cases, especially from a school called Blue Academy and your school… so tell me Mark, are you safe."
She asked with a calm expression, now having stopped cutting the veggies and looking at him. The knife stilled. The kitchen went quiet except for the pots beginning to simmer.
---
Mark paused.
The question had caught him completely off guard. True, he had been planning to tell her today, but he wanted to do it after he had prepared himself, after he had found the right words. Right now, that wasn't the case at all.
The gas hissed under the pots. A thin skin of steam fogged the small window above the sink. His mother's hands were still — the knife half-buried in an onion, her knuckles white around the handle.
A few seconds of silence stretched. Then he took a breath. The air tasted like onion and beef stock.
"I'll tell you in detail later, but for now all you need to know is that I'm fine. Really."
He said it with a small smile, the kind he used when he didn't want her doing a 48-hour shift with worry sitting in her chest.
His mother looked at him for a bit. Her eyes did that thing — scanning his face, his forearms, the faded bruise on his knuckle he thought had healed. Then she smiled. Tired, playful, caring all at once.
"I'm looking forward to it."
She said, her tone light again. The knife resumed — _thok thok thok_ — and they continued cooking together, shoulder to shoulder.
---
After a few minutes they came out holding plates. The heat came off them in waves, the scent — beef stew rich with tomato, dark green covo glossed with oil, and the clean steam of sadza — completely mesmerizing. It even made Mary drool a bit, a thin shine at the corner of her mouth she wiped fast.
"Here's dinner."
Their mother said with a smile, placing the plates on the table, the ceramic clinking softly against wood, followed by Mark doing the same. The plates contained sadza, white and smooth with a faint crust where it had pulled from the pot, veggies and beef stew with gravy pooling thick.
"You two washed your hands right."
Mark asked, sliding onto the chair next to Alicia while his mom sat next to Mary. The chair legs scraped.
"Of course we did, stop treating us like kids."
Mary said rolling her eyes, causing Mark to chuckle.
"Well I am older than you after all."
Mark said now wearing a smug smirk.
"By like one year."
Mary responded, deadpan.
"Still older."
Mark teased causing Mary to scoff.
"Alright you two, you know the table rules, please remain quiet as we pray."
Their mother said as she closed her eyes, hands folded, and they followed suit including Alicia who was still trying to figure out how to eat the food in front of her — staring at the sadza like it might explain itself. The room went quiet except for the faint tick of the wall clock.
After the prayer was done they got to eating. The first bites were hot — steam puffing as they broke the sadza.
As they ate they talked about everything they could — weather, the city, back home, every mundane topic out there, voices low and comfortable. But as they did so Mark noticed from the corner of his eye that Alicia was having a hard time. She was pinching a tiny piece of sadza, rolling it between thumb and forefinger too hard so it stuck, then trying to scoop stew without it falling apart.
"Oh, you seem to be having trouble."
He turned to her with a small smile on his face causing her to snap back to reality and look up at him with a slightly nervous smile, cheeks pink from the stew's heat.
"Oh I'm fine, just taking time to visualize the food."
She said still wearing the smile.
Mark looks at her and chuckles lightly, soft.
"Hey whats so funny?"
She asked pouting a bit, her bottom lip pushing out.
"Sorry that's just the most creative lie I've heard all week."
Mark said as he finished chuckling.
"Hey it wasn't a lie and even if it was it was a pretty good one."
She murmured crossing her arms, the sleeve of her borrowed hoodie riding up.
"You're right it was a pretty good lie but unfortunately for you your facial expression sold you out."
Mark said causing her to blush a bit, heat creeping up her neck.
"Don't worry, I'll teach you how to eat it. I still owe you for showing me how to have fun after all."
Mark said with a calm smile. Those words caused her to visibly relax, shoulders dropping.
"I'd really appreciate that, thanks."
She said and Mark simply nodded in response then showed her — wet your fingers first in the little bowl of water so it doesn't stick, roll gently, make a small hollow with your thumb, then scoop. His fingers brushed hers for a second, warm and slightly oily.
Meanwhile their mother and Mary's eyes were now on them but neither noticed, including Mark.
"Since when was your brother popular with girls."
Their mother whispered to Mary, voice barely over the clink of spoons.
Mary shook her head, watching Alicia concentrate like sadza was an exam.
"He isn't, she's just the weird one with weird tastes."
Mary remarked.
"Hey don't say that about your brother, he's a nice young man."
She responded her tone light, proud.
"You're his mother so you're obligated to say that."
Mary said causing their mother to shake her head in amusement, a quiet laugh escaping through her nose.
After dinner Alicia gets up to leave, pushing her chair back.
"You're leaving already dear?"
Mrs Wilson asked.
"Yes its getting a bit late and I don't want my parents to worry."
Alicia said politely, hands tucked behind her back.
"Get home safe dear."
"I will, thanks for having me."
She responded as she opened the door — the night air cool rushing in for a second — and left, leaving the Wilson family alone. The door clicked shut and the house felt quieter, and fuller, at the same time.
---