#rescuemiriam

Miriam takes the arm just as Hirim makes the same gesture. She ignores him to go with Zara, and he appears sourly wounded over it, limping along behind them.

Eyes drop at the glower, a silent apology to the nocker when Miriam is distracted.

Hirim seems to be his normal grumpy self.

Miriam is resettled - Zara handles her like spun glass, before retreating to her own seat. The teenager pokes at her food, pushing it around her plate so it looks like she's eaten. She might try a bite of the rice.

The dinner table is subdued, hushed.... the nockers look at each other, at Miriam... Zara... Miriam... Zara....each other....

No, the rice is no bueno. She covers her mouth with her napkin, discreetly concealing her look of revulsion as she forces it down. She can drink some water, but the food turns her stomach.

Miriam doesn't seem sure where to look. She manages a few bites though. "So. Uhhh.... so, Rachamin? Zara ... Zara said you were a smith?"

"I was telling her about your craft shows. And swords." her whisper is almost apologetic.

"Oh. Oh? Oh, smith! Yes." He smiles at Zara. "Thank you, Bubalah, yes, I work as a smith. And Hirim, you know, an upholsterer. More work for him than for me, though. Still, we get by."

"Enough customers out there. People appreciate well m-made things."

Hirim grunts.

Rachamin nods. "Lucky me, I'm good not just with the big stuff but I can do detailed work pretty well, too. Zara, she makes lace."

"Nothing too fancy yet. Still learning."

A brief glance up from her plate, from Uncle to Uncle.

Hirim is scowling at his plate. Ratchet is trying to help with the conversation. "Your Hanukkah presents were very nice, Zara."

She bites on her lower lip, shrinking inwards as she watches Hirim. "I'm glad you liked them, Ratch... Rachamin."

There's a thud under the table and Hirim grunts. "What? Oh, yes. Very nice. For a beginning, nu?"

"For a beginner. Yes." Eyes down, cheeks flushed.

Miriam clanks her silverware down with a glare at the old men. "If you have any around, Zara, I'd love to see 'em."

She shakes her head. "Nothing here. Sorry."

"Hmmh." Miriam takes a sip of her drink, and continues eating.

"I... I could, wh-when I bring the puzzles over..." a nervous glance at Hirim, mutely seeking permission.

Hirim, with a mouthful of food, grunts. Ratchet more helpfully nods. "Puzzles?"

"Some of Ma-.. Han-... jigsaw puzzles. I thought... thought it would be nice, keep hands busy? You know that one closet is just st-stuffed full..."

"Good idea, Zara. Sure."

"Can't stare at walls all day, especially now that things are going better."

Hirim grunts again, and exchanges a look with Ratchet.

Ratchet answers. "True. Better to keep busy."

"....Sorry."

"No need to be." Ratchet say mildly as he eats. "It's a good idea."

She swallows, and manages a nod. "Okay."

The meal continues. Miriam manages about half her plate, but has to stop.

Zara collects the plates, retreating to deal with them and hide evidence of her uneaten food.

"Zara, can I help?" Miriam asks.

"You don't need to. Can't wash them yet..."

Scrape, yes. Wash, no. Zara's plate is emptied into a tupperware and hidden in the cupboard beneath the sink, while the rest are loaded into the dishwasher to wait.

"Ok...."

The men continue to eat, eventually slowing and stopping.

Zara returns with three cups of coffee - not yet sludge, as it will be after the carafe simmers through the night.

"Oh, coffee!" Miriam perks up; the two old men note this with an exchange of looks.

Hirim's, of course, has a "secret" dash of sugar. Zara reclaims her now-cool tea from earlier.

Quadruple sipping.

For a moment, all seems well. A smile flickers across Zara's features as she sips.

"So.... when can I leave?" Miriam asks quietly.

"Tired?"

She glances at Zara, and smiles a little. "A bit but... no, I meant, leave here. When will I be well enough, when will I have my memories back?"

The Uncles exchange looks. Ratchet responds. "Miriam, you're not a prisoner here, nu? Tell you what, you feel strong enough to come down on your own, so maybe we can work with you, build up your strength."

She bites on her lower lip, knuckles white as she holds onto her cup very securely.

Hirim clears his throat. "Eat solids again, good. You're awake more hours. A few weeks, you should be ready."

"Where w-would you want to go?"