Passover was a holiday Dionisia had never had the pleasure to celebrate — if by pleasure she meant being surrounded by a group of Fisks whose eyes were more fixated on her rounded stomach than her anxious expression. It was only made worse by her unfamiliarity with Judaism as a whole; although born and raised a Christian, Dionisia had sworn off religion entirely once entering the magical world. She (wisely) chose to stick to her husband's side for the entirety of the evening, excusing herself every so often for 'fresh air' — something no one argued with her about.
The moment Ari left to answer the door was the first moment she'd been left alone with her newfound family that evening. She straightened her body and tried to look comfortable, but could only fidget as she focused on Ari's hushed voice from down the hall. After a solid minute, she'd had enough.
She rose from her seat, paying no mind to her in-laws as she followed the sound of Ari's (and a familiar person's?) voice.
"Mr. Darrow," she greeted in surprise, her gaze flickering between her husband's raised brows and Mr. Darrow's flustered expression. She remembered the man's words from days earlier at the hospital. "Ari Fisk doesn't like me," he'd said, and until now, faced with the unfamiliar expression on Ari's face, hadn't believed it was that serious.
"It feels like I saw you just yesterday. We're celebrating Passover this evening," she said, hoping to interrupt whatever tension existed between them now. Dionisia wasn't a cunning sort of woman, but Mr. Darrow would certainly be a welcome distraction from all the awkward chatter. "Have you heard of Passover?"
The moment Ari left to answer the door was the first moment she'd been left alone with her newfound family that evening. She straightened her body and tried to look comfortable, but could only fidget as she focused on Ari's hushed voice from down the hall. After a solid minute, she'd had enough.
She rose from her seat, paying no mind to her in-laws as she followed the sound of Ari's (and a familiar person's?) voice.
"Mr. Darrow," she greeted in surprise, her gaze flickering between her husband's raised brows and Mr. Darrow's flustered expression. She remembered the man's words from days earlier at the hospital. "Ari Fisk doesn't like me," he'd said, and until now, faced with the unfamiliar expression on Ari's face, hadn't believed it was that serious.
"It feels like I saw you just yesterday. We're celebrating Passover this evening," she said, hoping to interrupt whatever tension existed between them now. Dionisia wasn't a cunning sort of woman, but Mr. Darrow would certainly be a welcome distraction from all the awkward chatter. "Have you heard of Passover?"
