10 Party Jollof & Ox Tail Stew

Sango tapped the arm of his chair softly and she could not guess his thoughts at that moment as his face had become a stoic mask.

She had a suspicion though that he was probably pissed off. That seemed to be the leading pattern for their engagements so far and as a data analyst, patterns were her thing so she was pretty confident in her assessment.

It's not like she was thrilled herself. She couldn't even relax in her own home. By now she should have been on her former couch crying over Baileys and plantain chips, not trying to understand why the god of freaking thunder was pissed off with her. Again.

At last, that impressive chest rose and fell minutely and he let out the slightest gust of air. A sigh.

"My people will send the rules to you by - email" he said the last word heavily like he was reluctant to use it. "The fridges are stocked. Avail yourself."

Fridges, ke?

Bisola almost thanked him but her stomach jumped in first gurgling audibly in response so she had to cough and make 'hem-hem" noises very loudly to cover it up.

She threw up thanks that melanin didn't betray blushes easily, muttered something about following through on the "availing" and fled the scene.

Her kitchen was now a hipster/artisanal wet dream in rose hued granite and yes there were in fact two identically towering, gorgeous, steel and chrome fridges to be accounted for.

As Bisola opened the first one and an arctic wind blew into her face, she had to start admitting to herself that the land-lording thing wasn't necessarily ALL bad.

The mists of expensive refrigeration parted and Bisola saw brand new Tupperware containers stacked inside from top to bottom, meticulously LABELED and organized by the main food groups of Carbs, Soups, Proteins and "Small Chops".

There might have been a heavenly choral accompaniment, Bisola wasn't entirely sure.

There might also have been some tears which she wiped away quickly.

Work life was bad.

Home life was impossible.

But Fridge life was good. Fridge life almost made up for the rest.

It was nothing short of intimidating just trying to pick and choose through the bounty but Bisola was soon able to identify a container labeled specifically "Party Jollof" and another labeled "Ox Tail Stew (Slow Cooked)".

It was not a combo she'd ever tried but she had a feeling it was going to be the beginning of a lot of new experiences for her.

Minutes later, pulled up to the kitchen counter on a tall, steel framed stool, her freshly heated dish set in front of her, she was able to confirm that "fit for the Gods" was a thing.

She wasn't sure if it was because she was hungry or just that she'd had such a crap day but the result was she doubted she'd ever tasted a more flavorful jollof or a more suck the meat of the bone and dip your fingers in the stew and, yes, cry again, Ox tail stew. For the period during which she demolished the plate, her negative feelings about Sango were substantially muted.

As she gnawed the massive bones left behind she even began to see things a little from his side.

Anyone would be pissed off if they were just minding their own business then suddenly got pulled into another world. She knew herself how annoyed she got when people added her to random whatsapp groups without asking her permission first.

Maybe blocking Bamz's number after she left had been a little harsh. Maybe she might even consider skimming through that bible sized manual she'd left behind. Just to see what was inside. She didn't have to obey it. She was the landlady here after all.

Bisola felt warm and very close to happy after she had eaten well and made some decisions. She pushed her plate aside, folded her arms over the cool, reflective granite and laid her head down.

Just to rest her eyes a little...

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