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One more flip of the omelet pan, and food would be ready. The eggs were already golden-brown sizzling in butter. Only another moment for the cheese to melt and they’d be fit for the platter. I peeked around the corner and smiled as Liona pushed Mrs. Benson’s wheelchair to the breakfast table.
“Remember, Dylan,” she said to me, and when she had my attention she mouthed the words “No magic!”
“Only a little,” I assured her with a raised finger. I promised her every morning that I would be careful with my powers. “A touch of paprika, and sprig of Italian parsley. Perhaps a pansy or two as garnish to make the meal more attractive. After that, no magic.”
She rolled her eyes, but good naturedly, as she watched me grab a dash of spice from thin air with a flick of my fingers, and then pluck a touch of parsley from my shirt pocket. She laughed. “Keep the magic down to a bare minimum, please.”
“For your eyes, only,” I smiled back at her. “I made a vow.”
“I know you did.”
“I keep my word.” I had vowed to see that all the tenants get a menu to their individual tastes, with as much flair and elegance as I could conjure.
“You do. You’ve really taken your new job seriously.” She leaned against the door frame to the kitchen, crossed her arms, and popped her gum, while watching me slide the omelet out of the pan onto a plate.
“That’s because I’m grateful, Liona,” I locked eyes with her for a split second. “To be here cooking for everyone. When Uncle Jim asked me what I wanted in life, I told him to be a cook. But he made me see that I needed more than that. He made me see I needed to be around people that loved me.” I looked up at her. She had stopped chewing her gum. I think if I hadn’t been holding a hot pan and a clumsy oven glove on my hand, I would have kissed her. There would be time for that. We had our whole lives ahead of us now and we were going to share it with each other.
“I know you’re grateful.”
“I missed them, even when I didn’t know it. Even Mr. Gravestone.” I took off the glove and handed her two of the plates and went back for the others. “They’re all special. Family. I didn’t realize how important you all were to me when I was here before. I’m slow to catch on.”
“Not slow,” Liona corrected. “Cautious. Careful, Contemplative.”
Her words made me feel strong. That’s why I liked Liona so much. She made me feel important, kind of the way Uncle Jim did. We carried the dishes to the table and placed them in front of each tenant.
“Good morning, Eddie,” Mrs. Benson nodded at me and gave me a big grin. Mrs. Benson would never know me as anyone else but Eddie, so I accepted the role.
“Good morning, Mum,” I said. After I set her porridge in front of her, closer to Liona’s seat so Liona could feed her, I wrapped her shawl over her shoulders and gave her a hug. Next to the oatmeal I then put a small bowl of peeled and cooked apples spiced with cinnamon, and a dollop of yogurt which was a product of my magic.
“You are so sweet,” Mrs. Benson patted my hand. “Always thinking of your dear old mum.”
I gave her a kiss on the cheek.
I returned to the kitchen and brought back Mr. Gravestone’s breakfast. His were the more difficult dishes. Scrambled eggs with a touch of chives, toast, and he couldn’t decide on sausage or bacon so to avoid an argument with himself, I cooked up both and put them on separate plates, a magical garnish of parsley. No special thanks from him, but I understood.
Mr. Bromheimer was happy with the omelet Liona served him, toast, and hash browns.
“Thank you, Dylan. Fine meal, as always.”
“Thank you, Mr., Bromheimer,” I said.
He took my hand as I brushed by and drew me closer to him. “Do me a favor after breakfast,” he whispered in my ear.
“What’s that?”
“Give me a neck massage while I’m playing chess with the old geezer.” He winked. I peered at Mr. Gravestone. “He’s been winning way too many games. It’s getting to his head!”
“I will give you a neck massage, Mr. Bromheimer. However, I can’t guarantee the outcome of your game.” Liona smiled at me. She knew what we were talking about. “Maybe though.”
“Good boy,” he said.
I patted him on the back.
I made Mrs. Healy breakfast too. Of course, our new tenant ate like a queen, we were so lucky to have her home again.
“Coffee, Mrs. Wright?” I asked. She held out her cup and winked at me with her right eye.
After I had poured Mrs. Wright’s coffee, I slipped back into the kitchen and fixed a large cup of hot cocoa in the biggest mug I could find. I pulled out the whipped cream and carefully formed a heart in the center, and sprinkled cinnamon on top.
I reached in my pocket. Among the fragments of seashells and sand I found the pearl I had made on the beach that day, the one I was going to give Liona. I set the pearl on the saucer atop three perfectly formed mint leaves that I have mustered from magic.
I brought the cup to the table and set my gift in front of Liona.
She caught my eye, hers twinkled and she smiled, mouthing the words, “Love you,” to me.
Chills traveled up my spine. I nodded and then sat at the table across from Mr. Gravestone, satisfied that I had found what I really wanted in life, just like Uncle Jim wanted me to.
