Nowruz #cherrypiecure

posted by susan-oh-susan / march 20 at 11:56 pm / uncategorized / 18 comments

Today I went to Marcella’s store to pretend to work for her.

I wasn’t very good at it, and I was bored.

And she was annoying. (Sorry, love.)

I came home, and spent a lot of time googling Persian food on the Internet.

It turns out today was—I mean is, still is—the Persian New Year. Nowruz.

Then I went to Safeway.

Reza wasn’t there.

I bought things.

I thought things.

I made things.

I…

Yes, I went to the store again.

At 10 pm at night.

Because, shifts, right?

And.

He was there.

“I’ve missed you,” he said as I came to his cash. With nothing in my arms except my still-hot Tupperware container.

“Well, I did make cherry pie the other day again and came by but you weren’t here,” I said finally. So awkward! “Um. So, I was reading about… I was reading about Persian New Year. Nowruz.”

“Nowh-rooz,” he corrected me. With a smile. “Nowruz,” he said again. Smiled again. “That’s… today.”

“Um, yes,” I said. “So I saw this recipe. And I made this. And here.”

I shoved the Tupperware container at him and started to bolt, except there was a hand on my arm.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Um,” I said. “Sabzi…” I couldn’t remember. “It’s just rice and fish.”

“Sabzi polo ba mahi?” he said. “You made me sabzi polo ba mahi?”

“Well, I followed this recipe I found online,” I said. “I don’t know if it’s any good. It’s probably nothing like the real thing, I mean, it’s probably nothing like what your mother makes. And oh-god, I don’t even know if you’re Persian. Iranian.”

“I am,” he said. “Persian.”

“I was just… because of your name. Reza. I mean, I saw it on your name tag. And one of my friends said… that it was probably Persian.”

“You talk about me to your friends?” Such a smile.

Oh. God.

Mortified.

“I have to go now.”

“We are not equal,” he said. His hand on my arm. “You know my name. And your name is?”

Stupid Susan.

“Susan,” I said.

“Soo-zaahn,” he said. “Soo-zahn,” he said it again, and I felt the bones in my toes dissolve. “I am so grateful for this gift, and so touched by your thoughtfulness. Soo-zaaaahn,” he said my name again, and I thought if he said it again I would die. “Soo-zaaaahn,” he said—and I lived, “Soo-zaahn, if I weren’t one hundred per cent sure that it was forbidden in the employee handbook, I would now cover you with kisses from the top of your head to the tips of the nails of your toes, and then back again. And back again. As it is, it is taking all of my willpower to not kiss the inside of your palm. Your elbows. To not drag my forehead along your nose and down your beautiful body and rest it in gratitude on your feet. And then… well, the next part, I will only think.”

I think “panted” is the only word for what I did.

“Um,” I then said. “You’re welcome.”

And then I don’t know what happened.

Somehow I made it home.

I spent some time in bed with Femme’s gifts.

Nika, pretend you didn’t read that.

Oh. God.

*

18 comments on Nowruz:

FemmeFataleFun: OMG, those silver-tongued Persians. Now I want one again.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: The nation of Rumi—I forgot! Swoon.

susan-oh-susan: Who’s Rumi?

BeautifulThingsEveryday: Seriously, Susan? You don’t know? Sexiest, most amazing poet ever. I’ll bring you a book tomorrow. He wrote all these poems about God. While twirling and whirling. Except half of them sound dirty.

ilikeherbooty-full: Everything sounds dirty to you, Cougar.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: Dickweed, you know nothing about me.

ilikeherbooty-full: I’m willing to find out. Come visit, baby. Susan has my address.

FemmeFataleFun: Ok, and girlfriend, I have a warning, about silver-tongued Persians. Susan? Are you going to listen? I dated one in university. Fucking hot—crazy hairy, by the way, I’ve never seen anything like it—but all they want to do is get into your pants, and then marry a nice Muslim girl. So be careful, Susan.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: I’d be totally cool with that. And Susan doesn’t want more than what’s in his pants anyway… actually, never mind, Susan, I’m texting you, and then I’m ditching Brad and coming over tonight for a debriefing. Should I bring tequila? Or wine?

susan-oh-susan: Wine.

Caspian00XO: I didn’t really understand that. Does he want to get it on with you?

BeautifulThingsEveryday: I think maybe he was just being poetic.

FemmeFataleFun: Yes, he does.

Caspian00XO: I don’t like or trust that guy, Susan.

susan-oh-susan: You’re so sweet, Caz.

*

ilikeherbooty-full: Fuck, fuck, Susan, FedEx just arrived. I knew you wouldn’t throw that pie out in the garbage. Thank you, baby! Thank you, thank you, baby! I am warming it up in the oven right now, like you said in the instructions. Oh, baby. And after I eat it, I’m going to whack off. Thinking either about your breasts or the pie. Cougar, if you ever want me to fuck you, you need to learn how to make this pie.

BeautifulThingsEveryday: OMFG, Susan, why do you encourage it? It will never go away if you keep on feeding it!

ilikeherbooty-full: I’d say fuck you bitch, but my mouth is full of Susan’s pie and my heart is full of love. Even for you.

…

Find out more: Cherry Pie Cure: Cast of Characters and More

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mjanecolette
TellMe@mjanecolette.com

PS A Table of Contents of the Cherry Pie Cure/Susan’s Writing Cure Blog posts can be found at the Cherry Pie Cure landing page.

Feature image (+recipe) source: http://www.thepersianpot.com/recipe/sabzi-polow-mahi-herb-rice-with-fish/