Qebhet's smile felt as unsteady as Much's looked, but she drew in another breath and she nodded. Food, food was simple and uncomplicated and comforting. Maybe that was what she should have done in the first instance, asked him to dinner like a normal person, instead of inviting him to watch a band he couldn't see or hear. "They, they make a good jerk chicken. And plantains, do you like plantains?"