Prego and the Phoenix 🐇↩️✔

Bourne - Five

When going to a house as a guest, it is nice to bring something nice for the host. Wine, dessert, or something complimentary to the party is best. Bringing yourself when invited is good but bringing something extra shows that you have affection for the host, whether it be in truth or in terms of etiquette.

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"You're going over to Arabella Rickward's house for dinner?" the twins ask me as I drive home.
"Yep. I'm going to have something made by her." I say proudly.
"What's so great about Arabella's food?" Lochner asks with a turn of his head.
"It looks like what your mom makes." Humphrey says, with an equal turn of his head.
"It's not something you can just describe. You have to actually taste the food to get why it's so good. She puts these spices and there's so much flavor!"
"Unlike your authentic Spanish mother who makes food as a catering business?" Humphrey says with a look to me.
Both of them know that I love my mother with all my heart and that I would do anything for her. They also know that most people don't have an upper hand when it comes to cooking because my mother is kind of jealous of her cooking. I have to lie sometimes when she says that the Mexican restaurants are below her in some things. Ma-Ma can't make hummus worth shit though, considering my father was Scottish and loved the stuff. Just couldn't get the consistency right. Either way, the twins know I would have to come up with a really good excuse to not eat my mother's cooking.
"Maybe we should come along and see for ourselves if Arabella's cooking is as heavenly as he makes it seem." I hear one of the two converse to the other like I can't hear.
I stop the car at the red light and turn on them swiftly.
"Listen here, Gargoyle Twins, you're not stepping one foot near her home. This is my time with her. I have to get on her good side somehow and you two hovering around like two buzzards won't help."
The twins frown at me and I start the car up again.
I park the car in the garage and head inside. I smell the smell of browning meat as always and hear Ma-Ma humming in the kitchen. I turn the corner and see her shaking her butt to a Pitbull song and I smirk at her. She turns and yelps at my presence.
"Bourne! Warn me when you come home. I don't appreciate you watching me like a stalker."
I laugh at her and kiss her cheek. "Ma-Ma, I'm not a stalker. That's hurtful when you say that to me."
"You do like your father... He used to just stand and watch me too. Creeped me out every time."
I smile as Humphrey and Lochner come in to kiss her on the cheek. She loves it when they kiss her at the same time on either cheek, her in the middle. It makes her feel special.
"Listen, Ma, I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner tonight."
"Why is that? Is there someone better than me making food for you?" she asks, her brown eyebrow arched high.
"No, Ma, it has nothing to do with liking food or not. The girl I have been telling you about, Arabella, she gave me some of her soup today. I accidentally let myself speak without checking and found myself asking if I could have her food tonight as well."
Ma-Ma puts her hand on her hip and stares at me.
"Well, here it comes. Getting rooted out by a high school girl. Hmph, I guess you can go since she cooks soooo much better than me."
I feel like protesting but when I pass her to tell her that that's not true, I find her smiling under her grin expression. The little wretch was trying to make me feel bad. I growl and walk toward my room.
"I'm going to get dressed."

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Much to my surprise, as I head out the door to go to Arabella's, Ma comes over and hands me a basket.
"What is this?"
"Freshly baked bread for your chica."
"Ma..."
"She sounds important to you, my love. I have heard you speak of her and you speak of her like she is the sun and the moon. Aside from your mannerisms around town and at school, you are soft at heart. Like your father, that idiot. How do you think he woo me? Either way, guests should bring gifts to their hosts, it's etiquette."
I smile and she puts her hand on the top of it.
"Thanks, Ma. That means a lot."
"I hope your night is great."
I nod and head to the motorcycle instead of the car.
As I pull into to the apartment complex, I try to find the house that I left from last time. It's a blur to me, considering that's what it was when I left as well. I see the place I need to be and park the motorcycle on the sidewalk in front and head up to the door. I knock on it and it swings open, Arabella looking like she is in hysterics.
"Arabella?"
"I can't- It- FIRE!" she yells in gulps.
I look at the kitchen where the pan is on fire. I run in and find a lid to put over the flames and throw the pan in the sink, turning the cold water on. There is a small char mark on the wall of the stove but everything seems to be intact. I hear sobs behind me and find Arabella in shambles on the floor. I put the bread on the table and walk over to her.
"Are you alright? What happened?"
"I didn't put oil in it and then it just happened and... oh! I ruined dinner!" she wailed and slammed her face back into her hands.
I bend down in front of her, setting my arms on my knees to look at her.
"Arabella, will you look at me?"
"No! I'm so sorry!"
I smile at her and touch her hand softly, making her look at me.
"I'm glad that you're safe. You and your baby are the only things that matter to me. Now, let's not worry about whatever it was that you were trying to cook. If you have soup in the fridge just heat it up. I'm okay with that."
"That's horrible."
"You still made it, right? Then it counts..."
She sniffles. "Really?"
"Yes." Arabella nods and I help her stand up. "Besides, my mother gave me this freshly baked bread for you."
"For me? Why?"
"My mother always says it's nice to bring a gift to the host. Wine is customary but we're in high school and you are pregnant."
"You've drank before."
I give her a smile. "Yes, but only when no one's looking."
She laughs and goes to the fridge, starting to take out this humongous pot out and I get up quickly.
"What in God's name, woman! You've been pulling this out all by yourself ever since you made it?!"
"Just a little."
"You should be smacked for your insolence." I hiss at her as I grab the humongous pot and lift it out of the fridge. "You can really hurt yourself and your baby by doing stupid things like that. Do I need to hire someone to be with you?"
Arabella crosses her arms. "I'm perfectly capable of doing things myself, thank you. I don't need help like an old lady or an invalid."
I turn around with my hand on my hip.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I dragged your fat ass into my apartment just fine." She counters.
"To which if I had been awake I would have made you leave me at once! For someone who can't stand up to their ex-husband, you sure take challenges to a different level."
Her face wrinkles in anger but she finally sighs and puts her hand on her little bitty poochy stomach. It's cute that there's a baby in there.
"Fine. You got me. But why are you here, anyway? I mean, the last time we spoke was more tense than the bastard child getting the family inheritance or something."
"I thought our last conversation was pleasant." I say with a frown.
"Not that one. The other one where I introduced myself."
"I recall that being an also, pleasant moment. But if you must know, I'm here because I want to be. I like you, Arabella. Don't you know?"
"Like me? As in..."
"As in, I want to go out with you; as in, I want to hold your hand; as in, I want to take to dinner and see a movie. That kind of like." I say, just letting my walls crumble to the ground as I walk closer to her. She backs into a wall and I put my hand above her head. "I want you, Arabella."
She lifts an eyebrow. "Well, it'll take a lot of convincing for you to prove that to me. I'm pregnant and in a couple of months, I'll look like a bloated cow. Will you still want me and like me so much then? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm very happy about that but I just... I just need to know."
I stroke my hand along her smooth cheek and her eyes look into mine, trembling with anticipation. I understand her reasoning but the lust in her eyes tells a different tale. I decide to do it her way.
"Arabella, the growth of your child inside your belly makes me leap for joy. Babies are wonderful creations. If it were mine, we'd be married."
Arabella scoffs, looking away from me.
"Fat chance. You'd be out faster than Trevor was, leaving me to deal with bills and stuff."
I scowl at her. That was a horrible thing to say, comparing me to that deadbeat of a husband that kid was. I clench my fist above her and get closer to her face, my beard just tickling her nose.
"What must I do then, to prove to you I mean what I say?"
"You can figure that out yourself..." she says in a whisper. "I just want to feel safe."
"You don't feel safe now?"
"About the baby, stupid." She whispers again. "If you do things right, we should move along splendidly."
"Is that so?" I say, my voice husky to send shock and excitement into those blue eyes of hers.
"Yes. So... would you like some soup?"
"Yes please."
She nods and I move, letting her do her handiwork around the kitchen.