Chapter Thirteen
Although we were both subdued after that, we also realized we needed to eat something. Gideon again told me I should choose, since he wasn’t familiar enough with our food to guess one way or another.
So I ordered from the Mediterranean place, mostly because shawarma and rice pilaf and roasted vegetables sounded good. While we waited for the food to arrive, Gideon helped me set the table, interested in the ritual of it, his fine, sensitive hands running over the edges of the plates as he set them down on the tabletop. They were beautiful, local handmade stoneware glazed in dark red and a warm teal color, and I’d always sort of secretly coveted them, hoping that one day I could have something similar in my own house.
There was wine in the little countertop rack in the kit
