Just Make Du'aa

• s e v e n •

Farouz

The sun shone through the window and into my tired eyes, I tried desperately to cling onto sleep; remembering the late hour we stayed up to. At the memory, I turned and reached for my right to find an empty space where my wife should be. My wife, God that sounds good. Opening my eyes, I confirmed that her spot next to me was indeed unoccupied. Only the urge to see Dina in the morning pulled me out of my warm spot on the bed. With a groan, I looked longingly at the now empty bed before walking out to find my bride. "Dina?"

"In here," her soft voice lead me to the kitchen. Dina stood in front of the stove, stirring contents in a red pan. Her hair was damp and fell down her back in wavy black locks, she wore a simple but beautiful white silk nightgown that shone as she moved. "Assalamualaikum," she hummed, her voice is so musical. "How did you sleep?"

I stepped up to give her a lingering kiss on her temple to savor the feeling she gave me, she leaned into me as I said, "better than I thought possible. Would have loved to wake up with you next to me though."

Dina laughed, her laugh sounded like bells. "I'm sorry, whenever I'm somewhere new I wake up really early. So I showered, prayed, and decided to go ahead and make us a breakfast. Don't worry though, in a few weeks you won't be able to get me out of bed."

For the first time since I walked in, the different scents that filled the kitchen hit me. "Oh wow," the table was set with foods I recognized and ones I didn't. They all looked great, "this is just breakfast?"

"Well," she shrugged, emptying the contents of the pan into a plate, "I figured that since you've lived alone for a really long time. You've probably never had a good breakfast, it is the most important meal you know. And I felt it would be nice if I made you a proper Egyptian breakfast, just to welcome you into the culture and all." She waved it off as if this was no big deal, "the hummus isn't native to Egypt though, I just love it."

All the words left my mind, no one had ever made me a proper meal. The closest thing I got was when Aladdin invited me over to his family's home, but this was all made for me. "Thank you so much Dina. May Allah bless you as much as you've blessed me."

Again, she laughed, her cheeks turning a light pink. "It's nothing! I'm your wife now, this is my job right?" I couldn't resist kissing her forehead, after I pulled back she said, "now go pray! Then we can eat."

She sat across from me and pointed at the food, "hummus, diced and fried potatoes, labne, also not Egyptian but I still love it, eggs, and then Egypt's prized jewels falafel and fool."

"What?" my eyebrows shot up, fool?

"Fool," she said matter-of-actually.

"What's that?"

Dina's eyes widened, "you don't know what fool is?" I shook my head, "oh my God Farouz! You haven't lived. It's mashed fava beans with olive oil and cumin, I like to add lemon. Try it, it's the best."

"Bismillah," (In the name of God / said before eating) I did just that, she said I have to cat ear the bread and scoop it like a spoon. Took me a few tries, but my failed attempts made her laugh. Then finally, the creamy, seasoned flavor entered my mouth and my taste buds felt as if they were being electrocuted, "wow!"

"Do you like it?" she asked insecurely, "I'm not as good a cook as my mom is..."

"Dina, this is amazing! I'm used to a bowl of cereal or coffee and a biscuit every morning. Everything here looks great! And I'm sure it's all amazing."

And everything was amazing! I ate as much as I could to prove to her how much I loved it. Once we both said "alhamdulillah," and finished eating, she poured me another cup of tea with milk and started cleaning up. When I stood up to help she put her hand on my chest and said, "what are you doing?"