Raju looks up from the pan, for a second or two visibly surprised. For all Seetha's streak of stubborn insistence that she knew best had softened around its edges as she'd gotten older it had never gone away, particularly not in private. Raju only realises he'd been expecting to have to push to give Francis the meal that he should be able to provide when he doesn't.
It isn't as good as being able to cook this properly would have been, but this way at least Raju can give him something. Not tins. Not feeling the way that Francis does about them. So it's easier to smile at Francis a little now, knowing he can take care of Francis in this one way and that Francis is going to let him. Raju does smile for a moment, nods, then he turns his attention back to separating the worst parts of the fish and pushing the rest onto a plate, pouring the tea, bringing it all over. During those first days after, once Francis was well enough to eat but not well enough for too much more than that, it'd been easier to use a piece of wood as a tray to put the food on his lap, with a hole cut the right size to at least keep the cup from tipping too far in one direction or the other. Raju is glad for it now, and glad he hasn't bothered to move it from its spot against the wall so it's still close.
"I'll pay more attention to it next time," he says, setting the tray on Francis' lap and putting everything in place. There's something in being so close to Francis now; thinking more about just what that something is can wait until the more important things are done. "Or make something different. I found a book on foraging that looks promising but I haven't looked at it properly yet."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-07-13 03:02 pm (UTC)It isn't as good as being able to cook this properly would have been, but this way at least Raju can give him something. Not tins. Not feeling the way that Francis does about them. So it's easier to smile at Francis a little now, knowing he can take care of Francis in this one way and that Francis is going to let him. Raju does smile for a moment, nods, then he turns his attention back to separating the worst parts of the fish and pushing the rest onto a plate, pouring the tea, bringing it all over. During those first days after, once Francis was well enough to eat but not well enough for too much more than that, it'd been easier to use a piece of wood as a tray to put the food on his lap, with a hole cut the right size to at least keep the cup from tipping too far in one direction or the other. Raju is glad for it now, and glad he hasn't bothered to move it from its spot against the wall so it's still close.
"I'll pay more attention to it next time," he says, setting the tray on Francis' lap and putting everything in place. There's something in being so close to Francis now; thinking more about just what that something is can wait until the more important things are done. "Or make something different. I found a book on foraging that looks promising but I haven't looked at it properly yet."