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.<\/p>\n
“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.”<\/p>\n
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.”<\/p>\n
“There is coffee.” He nods his head in the direction of my coffee maker.<\/p>\n
“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.<\/p>\n
“I was going to make fruit,” he says, “but your refrigerator is not exactly well-stocked.”<\/p>\n
“I’ve needing to go shopping for a while. About six months, actually.”<\/p>\n
“The next time I plan to fall asleep on your sofa, I will stop at Trader Joe’s first.”<\/p>\n
“Good idea,” I say, pouring coffee into my mug. “This is usually what I have for breakfast around here.”<\/p>\n
“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.<\/p>\n
The Kitchen God rattles in the cabinet. “Hush,” I say under my breath.<\/p>\n
“Kameko?” Nikola says.<\/p>\n
“Yes?” I bring my mug and follow after him.<\/p>\n
“Were you rearranging furniture while I was asleep last night?” he asks.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
“Yeah,” I say, and I take a sip of my coffee. “That happens sometimes.”<\/p>\n
He put the plates on the table. “Wake me next time, I will help you.”<\/p>\n
“Oh, I didn’t do it. Like I said: it just happens sometimes.”<\/p>\n
“What, your house is haunted?” he asks. “Like that movie with the little girl who lives in the television?”<\/p>\n
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.”<\/p>\n
He begins taking the pyramid apart and returning the chairs to their proper places. “Ancient Serbian secret. So really, your house is haunted?”<\/p>\n
I sit and pull my plate in front of me. “You get used to it.”<\/p>\n
“You are pulling my leg, of course.”<\/p>\n
“Wait until you meet the dog in the shower,” I say.<\/p>\n
“I’m sorry?”<\/p>\n
“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.”<\/p>\n
“Sometimes,” he says, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”<\/p>\n
“That’s okay. Sometimes I don’t either.”<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
“You get used to it,” I say again.<\/p>\n
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