Page 12

At Least He Made Me Breakfast

H elena woke up in her bed with no sure memory of how she got there. She lay under her warm covers, feeling like if she just stayed still enough, she’d go back to sleep and right back into the delicious dream she had been i nhabiting.

Her bladder had other plans. “Oh hell,” she muttered and dragged herself out of bed. Just as she crossed her hall to go toward her bathroom, however, she heard a clink ing in her kitchen. She froze in place, her heart beating rapid-fire tattoos. Someone was in her house!

There were more clink s and the sound o f frying.

Someone wa s cooking?

Helena held still, desperately trying to remember. Did she bring someone home la st night?

She had!

The memory of the previous night rose from the depths of her sleepy brain. Cautiously, she crept down her short hall to peek into her kitchen. Just as she pressed the door free from the jamb, it jumped open. Rafferty, still looking like a human, stood on the ot her side.

“Good morning!” he said formally, bowing his head onc e to her.

“Hi,” she returned lamely, feeling terribly awkward, especially in the face of his go od humor.

“I have breakfast for you,” he said and presented her with a beautiful plate. It looked like it had been pulled from a photo session for a food magazine. Picture perfect, sunny-side-up eggs lay next to several strips of bacon and five dollar-coin pancakes. There were even little drips of syrup dotting the edge of the plate as artistic decoration with a single raspberry perched on top of the pancakes.

Her mouth watered as all the smells wafted up into her nose.

“Go sit down,” her house guest said, pushing her toward the dining room table. “I’ll bring you something to drink in a minute.” He thrust the plate at her and disappeared into her kitc hen again.

Lacking other options, Helena shrugged and sat at the table. But the needs of her bladder still hadn’t been addressed, so she picked up one of the mini pancakes to stuff into her mouth as she scurried off to quickly take care of business. By the time she came back, fully relieved, a glass of milk sat waiting by t he plate.

“Rafferty?” she called and peeked into the kitchen to see the demon washing the dishes in her sink. Now he was back in his demonic form, and it almost made her laugh to see him standing there, wearing one of her clean aprons over his dingy one, his triangular tail flicking back and forth like a contented cat while he worked away in the suds. There was still a wrong feeling emanating from him, but maybe she was getting used to it because it didn’t bother her as much that morning. He hummed to himself contentedly, so she let him be and went to enjoy her b reakfast.

Or at least she tried for two bites, then stood up and went back to the door.

“You don’t have to clean, you know,” she said, pulling the door open just in time to see him hanging her apron back up.

“It’s alright,” he said. “It’s all done.” He turned back to her and had… well, it wasn’t a smile on his face, but so freaking close to one she didn’t know what else she would call it.

“Oh!” she said, looking at her tile beneath his black-shoed feet as he shifted back to fully dressed human caterer. “Th e circle…”

He looked down, having thrust his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Yeah, well. Don’t get too excited. It’s still there,” he said. The circle had completely vanished again. “I mopped away the majority of it, but the essential particles are still embedded into the tile at this point. And will remain so as long as I’m here.”

“Noted,” Helena said, determined now to have no other house guests over for the next two weeks, just t o be safe.

“How are you feeling?” Rafferty asked, e yeing her.

“Fine. Why?” she asked. She glanced down at her plate. “Did you do something to b reakfast?”

“No,” he said, unable to keep his eyes from glancing over at her plate hungrily.

Helena grinned. “Would you like to taste it?” she asked t easingly.

A small pucker of worry appeared between his eyebrows. “I just want…” Then he closed his eyes and took a step back. “Never mind. It’s a bad idea.”

“I feel fine. We can do this,” Helena ass ured him.

He shook his head. “You’re out of eggs. That’s all there is.”

“Okay. That doesn’t change anything I said,” she stated and made herself reach out to take his hand to lead him back out to her dining room. He followed behind her demurely as a little boy, the puckered worry still between his eyebrows.

His concern made Helena wonder if there might be long term consequences to what she was doing, but if there were, she gave it the same amount of regard she gave drinking alcohol or eating too much sugar. This was still in m oderation.

“Sit,” she ordered him like a dog she was very affectionate with, and he did so while she took her place and positioned the plate between them. “What do you want to tast e first?”

He stared at the plate, then dragged her eyes back up to her. “You’re really going to willingly keep doi ng this?”

Helena shrugged one shoulder as she plucked up some bacon and broke the crispy thing in two. She held one out to him, but when he went to take it, she pulled it out of his reach and instead directed it straight to his mouth. He snorted a moment, obviously consternated by the idea of eating from her hand, and she just grinned at him. Finally, he opened his mouth and let her feed him the bacon while she quickly put her own half into her mouth. Then she leaned forward and set her forehead against his forehead like they di d before.

Again, like last night, flavor burst over her tongue, crispy, warm, salty, and meaty. She had never tasted bacon like this before in her life.

“How are you doing that?” she breathed out as soon as she swallowed, leaning back to open her eyes.

“Doing what?” he asked, echoing her breathy voice. She noted the tears leaking down his cheeks unheeded. Gently, she wiped them with a thumb, and he let her as he breathed through his nose, clearly still overwhelmed to taste so much after so long.

“You know,” she insisted, then gestured vaguely to her mouth. “It all tastes better when we…”

He shook his head, clearly struggling to focus on what she was sayin g. “What?”

She studied him for a moment, trying to detect some trick or lie in him, but he just kept licking the inside of his mouth, savoring. “Why?” he finally asked. “What are you tasting?”

Just then, Helena’s alarm went off on h er phone.

“I guess just amazing bacon,” she said, picking it up to look at the screen and tap off the alarm. “Okay, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get dressed f or work.”

She grabbed up the fork and shoveled one of the perfect eggs whole into her mouth. She tried to repeat the process with the other egg, but it dripped with yolk because her tines pierced the underside. Quickly, she held it out to him. He obliged her, but this time she stood to lean in, which wobbled her off balance in her rush. He grabbed her hand to help steady her and the flavor intensified like before, like someone had upped her tastes buds from normal t o eleven.

Keeping her eyes open this time, she watched his face.

Rafferty’s expression was all bliss, letting the drizzle of yolk leak down his chin. It brought Helena’s heart happiness to see it. It’s not being kind if it costs you nothing to do it, she thought, remembering one of her grandmother’s aphorisms. Once they swallowed, she let go and went to her bedroom to get dressed.

“I have to work today, but since it’s Friday, I won’t work the next two days. I figure you can just stay here for right now. You know, rest, watch some TV until I get home… would that be okay?” she said, shedding her pajamas.

“That would be fine,” he agreed from her doorway.

“Geez!” she cried out, startled as she whirled naked toward him. “Get out!” She scrambled quickly to grab a used towel off the floor to cover herself.

Rafferty continued to stand there, cocking his head amused. “You’ve seen me in as little,” he c ommented.

“When were you last alive—the Stone Age? Get out!” she shouted.

“1672,” he said simply, grinning. “The Age of Ab solutism.”

“Yeah, well this is 2022, and this age requires absolute consent. Now get the hell out of my room!” she ordered, pointing to the door.

He backed away, disappearing down the hall. “How’s this?” he asked.

“That’s good, but you know what would be better?” Helena crossed the few steps to her door to slam it shut.