As Rosie approached, coffee pot in one hand, he opened his mouth, but the older woman beat him to it.
“Our special flavors of the day are frozen pink lemonade, toasted coconut macadamia, and Andouille and Gruyère cheese breakfast pie,” she rattled off. “I assume you want one of each?”
“Thank you, Rosie,” he said. “And maybe a slice of cherry, for old times’ sake.” It had been Dad’s favorite, after all.
Rosie laughed. “All right, kiddo. Be with you in two shakes of a fox tail.” After filling the empty mug on the table, she sashayed back to the kitchen.
Gabriel drummed his fingers, anticipation thrumming in his veins as he thought of the new pies. For nearly all his life, he’d ordered the same thing. Sure, Rosie would try a new recipe every now and then or there would be stuff that went in and out of season, but mostly, the place served the basics—apple, cherry, blueberry, key lime, chicken pot pie and the like.
But ever since these new flavors had been offered, he couldn’t get enough of them. It was like a taste of heaven—the flavors bursting on his tongue was like the music of angels. They were better than anything he’d had before. The specials changed frequently, but even if the flavors were repeated, he would still order them. Those pies had almost become an obsession. The one day he came late after a shift and they ran out, he nearly threw a fit. It was like he’d been jealous someone else was enjoying those treats instead of him.
“Here you go, kiddo.” She put four plates in front of him. “One pink lemonade, toasted coconut, breakfast, and cherry with extra whipped cream.”
“You’re the best, Rosie,” he said, greedily eying the food in front of him. His inner lion, too, licked its lips.
“Looks like you need some privacy here, so I’ll leave you alone now,” she said with a chuckle, then waved as she sashayed back to toward the display counter.
Gabriel reached for his fork and dug into the breakfast pie first. His eyes rolled back into his head. God, where have you been all my life? The pastry was flaky and buttery and melted right in his mouth while the sausage, herbs, and cheese blended together in perfect harmony. His lion, too, was rolling around in ecstasy.
He took a bite of the two other pies and they were just as amazing, if not better. The cherry pie, too, was great, and though he hadn’t had it in a while, he could swear it was even better than before. He had numerous memories of sitting here with Howard after he picked Gabriel up from school, talking about his classes and friends or nothing at all. He keenly felt the loss of his father, but even more than that, being here brought back all the good things he’d remembered about Howard before his life had been tragically taken in that plane crash along with his mother, Geraldine.
He swallowed the pastry and took a gulp of the coffee, washing it down. His lion was clawing at him, as if it wanted him to do … something. Like it had an itch it couldn’t scratch.
Can’t this wait, bud? He was only halfway done with his meal.
It shook its head. Now, it seemed to say, its nostrils flaring.
But what did it want?
Putting the fork down, he glanced around. There was only one other table occupied, and Rosie was in front of the counter, wiping down the display case as another employee was taking out the apple pie to serve it up. Behind the counter was the door that led to the kitchen. As his gaze focused on the small round window in the door, he could have sworn he saw movement behind the glass.
The lion’s head perked up.
What?
It pointed its nose toward the door.
There?
It nodded, shaggy mane shaking furiously.
Gabriel knew he shouldn’t … but he was already on his feet and striding toward the kitchen door.
“Sir?” someone said behind him. “Sir, you can’t go back there.”
His heart hammered wildly in his chest as he placed his hand on the door.
“What the—Gabriel Russel, get away from there—”
He ignored those words as blood roared in his ears. Something made him push the door open and stepped inside to see—
Nothing.
The kitchen was empty.
What the hell is wrong with you?
His lion protested with a yowl, then lifted its head to sniff the air. It smelled like butter, flour, pastry, and sugar, plus something else in the air he couldn’t quite name. Something sweet and seductively exotic.
“Gabriel?” Rosie dashed into the kitchen, hands on her hips. “What in the world are you doing in here?”
“Huh?” What did he do? “Er, sorry, Rosie.” He scratched at his head. “Didn’t, er, sleep much last night. I’m still a zombie, and the caffeine hasn’t quite kicked in.”
Rosie looped an arm through his. “How about I refill your mug, then?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” As the fox shifter gently led him out of the kitchen, he glanced back at the door as it swung close. A strange feeling came over him, like an emptiness that he never realized was inside him. Huh.
Shaking his head, he allowed Rosie to bring him all the way back to his booth. “Thanks, Rosie my love,” he said.
“I’ll get you that coffee, kiddo. It’ll fix up whatever’s ailin’ you.”
His lion once again protested.
With a last glance back at the kitchen door, he couldn’t help but feel like there would be nothing that could help fill this void that had somehow buried itself in his chest.
Gabriel didn’t go back to Rosie’s again after the day
