The More Things Change…

The smell of bacon cooking wakes me. I roll out of bed and wrap myself in my robe, then go downstairs to the kitchen to see what magic is being worked.

“Good morning,” Nikola says as I walk in. He is standing over the stove, bacon in a pan, eggs already on plates on the counter. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed. If you want to go back to your room, I will bring it to you.”

I give him a kiss on his cheek. “That’s very sweet, but we can eat in the dining room. If I get into bed again, I might go back to sleep.”

“There is coffee.” He nods his head in the direction of my coffee maker.

“Thank God.” I open the cabinet where I keep the mugs, and find the Kitchen God inside, hidden behind a row of blue mugs. I pat him on the head and leave him where he is, knowing how he is around strange men in his kitchen. He’ll come around, given time. I take out a mug and close the cabinet. The Kitchen God isn’t afraid of the dark.

“I was going to make fruit,” he says, “but your refrigerator is not exactly well-stocked.”

“I’ve needing to go shopping for a while. About six months, actually.”

“The next time I plan to fall asleep on your sofa, I will stop at Trader Joe’s first.”

“Good idea,” I say, pouring coffee into my mug. “This is usually what I have for breakfast around here.”

“Starvation,” he says, gathering up the plates of eggs and bacon. “It explains how you keep your girlish figure.” He heads for the dining room, around the corner from the kitchen.

The Kitchen God rattles in the cabinet. “Hush,” I say under my breath.

“Kameko?” Nikola says.

“Yes?” I bring my mug and follow after him.

“Were you rearranging furniture while I was asleep last night?” he asks.

I see what he is talking about as soon as I enter the room, of course. All of my dining room chairs have been stacked one atop the other, in a pyramid.

“Yeah,” I say, and I take a sip of my coffee. “That happens sometimes.”

He put the plates on the table. “Wake me next time, I will help you.”

“Oh, I didn’t do it. Like I said: it just happens sometimes.”

“What, your house is haunted?” he asks. “Like that movie with the little girl who lives in the television?”

I shrug. “Probably. I don’t know.” I have another sip of coffee. “This is really good coffee. It doesn’t taste this good when I make it.”

He begins taking the pyramid apart and returning the chairs to their proper places. “Ancient Serbian secret. So really, your house is haunted?”

I sit and pull my plate in front of me. “You get used to it.”

“You are pulling my leg, of course.”

“Wait until you meet the dog in the shower,” I say.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ll see.” I raise my mug to my lips again and drink. “God, this coffee is amazing. It’s like Juan Valdez died in my mouth.”

“Sometimes,” he says, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“That’s okay. Sometimes I don’t either.”

From the kitchen, there is a sudden rattling and a crash, what can only be the Kitchen God tumbling out of the cabinet and onto the floor. Nikola starts to rise from his chair to go see what has happened, but I put my hand on his arm and stop him.

“You get used to it,” I say again.

 

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4 Comments

  1. Is it wrong of me to say that I would like to rattle your kitchen god some time?

    Reply
    • Kameko

       /  March 3, 2012

      He likes women, so I think you’d be okay there.

      Bring silver polish.

      Reply

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