Page 27 of Recipe for a Curse

Chapter 12

Iworked on dinner, filling the house with the delightful smells of baked bread and cinnamon rolls. The fruit tarts were in the fridge. I planned to take one back to my apartment later with Rio so he had snacks overnight. And I made a dozen more hardboiled eggs, and even some prosciutto wrapped cheese sticks. He had said he needed a lot of protein. My shopping list was expanding, but I would make do with thawing racks of ribs if I needed to.

When Rio came back in from their adventure in refilling the manor’s many fireplace wood stores, he stripped out of his gear and was more than a bit sweaty underneath. “I should shower,” he said quietly, standing in the mudroom. “Zach said they could find a room in the house for me.”

“Sure. If you don’t want to stay with me.” I agreed, wondering if he just wanted space, or if being stuck with me annoyed him. I did tend to talk a lot while cooking, telling stories about a particular dish and how I’d learned to make it, or discovered a better recipe.

“I don’t mind staying with you. Just don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not. I enjoyed having your help today. And knowing you like the meals I’m preparing makes me feel like a little kid on Christmas morning. Nothing makes me happier than when someone likes what I cook.”

“I eat a lot of food,” he said sounding a bit sad.

He did eat a lot. More than anyone I’d ever met. Couldn’t imagine it was still from starving as he’d have to get full sometime. “I meant to ask about that. I mean, not like intrusively. But just that, are you okay? There’s not a free clinic in town.” I was suddenly wondering if there was a way to fix that, “But I know of a few in the city. I could drive you down…”

“It’s nothing modern medicine can fix.” He breathed out a long sigh. “It’s more of a curse.”

“I’m sorry. I promise I don’t mean to pry. Eat as much as you need. I love to cook. I hate to think of you in any sort of distress.”

He was quiet for a moment, staring at me as he hung things up to dry. “I can’t remember the last time I was satisfied for more than a day or so.”

“Maybe Zach can find work for you here. We’ve needed a gardener for a while, someone to help him with outside maintenance. I would keep you well fed.” I liked the idea of Rio being here, safe, and close to me.

“Not sure I’m a good fit. I’m not good around people.” He looked away.

“You do okay around me.” Maybe crowds were more of a PTSD issue. Right now, we didn’t have large groups at the manor. And even those were staggered with lots of cleaning in between. No gatherings of more than five really. Not until the pandemic was over. Zach was nothing if not overly cautious. Currently, with only the staff in residence, life felt a bit normal. Those who used to drive in each morning, some of the teachers, event coordinators, and even Mr. Yamamoto who managed a lot of the manor paperwork, were all on winter break. I knew Mr. Yamamoto was still doing a bit of work from home, though Zach insisted he take time off. He had a new grandchild to spoil, so it hadn’t seemed any sort of hardship.

I’d gotten used to making him a very traditional breakfast over the past year. I hoped he was safe and getting much needed family time. “Zach doesn’t interact with the guests much either. But we’ll be closed another two weeks. New class schedule picks up in February.”

“I don’t know much about gardening,” Rio said.

“Not much gardening to do right now with five feet of snow on the ground," I pointed out. "I think you’d do a lot of what you did today. Fill firewood, maybe shovel snow.”

Rio glanced back at the door. “Zach showed me how to use the tractor.”

“Really? I’ve wanted to try that thing out. It’s crazy cool.” Since the circular drive was so large, Zach had decided that instead of using the plow on his truck to try to clear it, he had a snow tractor delivered. Apparently, it was something he had in storage for his construction business, but rarely used it as they did mostly internal renovations during the winter. It looked like a mini-Cat with a safety glass enclosed cabin. It couldn’t clear the drive as fast as the large plow on Zach’s truck, but the tractor left cleaner lines, and less ice trails he’d have to break through. “Was it fun?”

“Intense…” He seemed to think about it. “But yeah, a little fun.” He looked down at himself. “It was hauling the wood that did this.” He waved his hands at himself. “I thought I stocked up on wood at my place, but the pile here is huge.”

I nodded. “Zach had it shipped in before the leaves began to turn. Anything they cleared off a work site, and then more. He wanted to be prepared in case the power went out and the generators didn’t do enough. He’s sort of the king of being prepared for anything.”

Rio looked away. “I can see that about him.”

“Anyway. All your stuff is up in my place. Why don’t I walk you up so you can shower? I’ll call Ana to look after the kitchen for a bit. You can get cleaned up before dinner. That way you don’t have to decide if you want to stay with me or not until later. And I can grab a bit of a break.”

Rio hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I get the feeling you don’t take a lot of breaks.”

“Busted,” I teased as I sent Ana a text and got a reply back that she was on her way down. Not much for her to do as it would just be sliding the rolls into the oven twenty minutes before dinner. But I felt better when the kitchen was under control. “I’m a bit of a workaholic.” I crossed the kitchen and slid his house slippers his way. “Or you could say I get a lot of breaks because cooking is a lot of hurry up and wait. Let’s get you cleaned up.” That phrase sounded more PC in my head than it did out loud.

Rio stepped into the slippers and followed me across the kitchen and toward the opposite garage door. Once we reached my apartment, there was a paper bag sitting outside the door. When I glanced at it, it appeared to be filled with clothing. More T-shirts, sweats, socks, and even an unopened pack of boxers.

“Looks like Zach left you a gift,” I said as I unlocked the door and lifted the bag. “Told you he’s always prepared. He brought some warm clothes for you.”

Rio followed me inside my apartment and took the bag when I handed it to him, though he looked a little embarrassed. “I have my own stuff.”

He did. Though most of it was badly worn and in need of repair. “Now you have more stuff,” I proclaimed. “How about you go wash up? I’m going to sit and read for a few minutes.” I pointed at the couch, which I planned to straighten up as I’d left it a mess.

Rio seemed to debate something with himself for another minute or so. I made my way to the couch, folding up the blankets and pulling off the sheet, switching it out, and then pushing the bed back into a couch position. By the time I looked back, Rio was gone and the bathroom door was closed. I heard the shower running.