Chapter 27 Speaking of the future

The protagonist of one of my favorite sitcoms adored breakfast foods passionately. Some of the sweetest scenes were in their town’s little diner, eating waffles and bacon and eggs and getting advice from her boss. Sadie was always going to brunch on the weekends, usually to a different spot every Sunday, and she often asked me to join her.

I had, once, but I’d never really seen the point. Growing up, breakfast was either not there or something simple like cereal or toast. Some of the foster families I lived with made scrambled eggs from time to time, and I quite liked those. The families that cared the most weren’t always able to afford real eggs though, and the families that didn’t care… well, I didn’t usually eat hot meals with them anyway, so it didn’t matter what they cooked or could afford.

Like everything else in my life, Basil changed that. Why hadn’t anyone told me how good crepes were? Or french toast? Or eggs Benedict? Or any of the other carb-loaded, sauce-drenched, buttery dishes at brunch?

“You’ve got a little egg on your face,” said Baz after swallowing a big bite of blueberry French toast casserole.

I pawed at my napkin without taking my attention away from my plate. “I assume you mean literally, and not figuratively.”

He grinned and leaned his elbows on the table, giving me a sappy look. “Yes, nerd.”

I didn’t dignify him with a reply, but swiped the napkin across my lips to find that it was not, in fact, just a *little* egg. I folded it back, feeling a little embarrassed. “Sorry, love. Breakfast has apparently turned me feral.”

“It makes me feel good to watch you enjoy my cooking. You’ve been stressed and missing too many meals.” He scooped a huge mountain of scrambled eggs – one of my favorite comfort foods, and thus one he made often – on his fork as he spoke. “Speaking of things that make me feel good…”

I regarded him with a full mouth and wide eyes. Though I was usually ready to pounce on him at any moment, I was really, really enjoying my breakfast.

Baz chuckled with a knowing look. “No, no, another kind of good. Look what Meanie sent me last night.” He set his phone in front of us and hit play. A podcast started. I scootched up onto my knees to lean over his arm and see the title: The Big, Big, Big Idea. A cartoon of two women, one, a human, one, an Ogress, and an androgynous human with sideburns and chandelier earrings served as the logo, and all three were drawn as chubby to fat.

The podcast was wrapping up. “And before we say goodbye to you this week, we like to hit on something upbeat in pop culture!” said one voice, gravelly yet sweet and perky.

“A rare enough opportunity,” joked a lower voice, lisping slightly. That would probably be the Ogress, her tusks looked quite prominent. “We all remember The Big Cheese, right?”

The first voice: “Yep. Man, that was rough to see him go through that. And to deal with it again? Oof.”

The Ogress went on, “Well, he became a bit controversial in the fat-positive world. It’s always difficult seeing a fat celebrity not just lose weight, but to punish themselves for being fat.” Baz and I met eyes, and he gave a resigned shrug.

“We were all rooting for him!” said a third voice in a mock yell.

The other host laughed, but the Ogress pressed on, undeterred by comedy. “Well, this Big Cheese is putting himself out there again.”

“Maybe a little too out there,” said the third voice, giggling.

The Ogress cleared her throat haughtily. “And after suffering yet another intrusion of his privacy, I thought he’d disappear again.” Baz shrugged again, with an expression that seemed to agree with her speculation. “But I am quite happy to say that not only is he still opening a restaurant that can finally fit my fat ass and the fat asses of all my friends, but he and his fiancee are out there celebrating their love in public!”

“I love fat love,” sighed the first voice. “We have stills from the video up on our page if you haven’t seen them. We fought about sharing them, but it seems pretty clear that they knew someone was filming them.”

“They do look adorable together,” allowed the Ogress.

Baz tapped the screen and turned the podcast off. “It looks like the people we want to have as diners are pretty excited about Basileus.”

“And you!” I beamed. It took a moment, but abruptly, my ears caught up with my brain. “Wait, they called me your fiancee. Is there… did you say something or…?”

He rolled his eyes, but started pushing his food around his plate, looking down. “No, no, nothing like that.” We were both silent for several seconds. “Did it bother you?”

“To be called your fiancee?” Basil nodded, raising his head a touch, but still not meeting my eyes. “Not at all. I… I guess we’ve been together long enough to talk about it. Right? Is that… that’s normal, right?”

Baz’s wary look broke into a sunny smile. “Princess, nothing about us is normal. What do you want, in love, or life, or anything else?”

“You, Baz,” I blurted without a beat of hesitation. “I want you in my life.”

Another silence fell on us, a wholly different quiet. Emotions flickered through Basil’s dark, tender eyes faster than I could read them. After an eternity, he licked his lips and said, “That’s pretty convenient. As it turns out, I want you in my life.”

“Well, that’s… does that mean…” What was I even trying to say?

His warm, wide hand covered my back and he gazed at me fondly. “For now, it just means we want each other in our lives. We don’t have to figure everything out quite yet.” I felt frozen, as if I could suddenly see my life unfold in front of me, Basil in a tux, waiting for me down an aisle framed by pews and expectantly watching guests, then me, flushed and sweating, holding a red-skinned baby with teeny horn nubs just barely visible on their brow, double dates with Meanie or Frankie and Leon, Christmas in matching bathrobes with Tiefling children playing around me. Each scene, so warm, so inviting, as easy to slip into as a hot bath after a long day. Then, he cleared his throat and the spell was broken.

“Of course,” I said, shaking away the daydreams. They felt stronger than daydreams, visions perhaps. “Figuring things out is my middle name. I told you that the chair rentals are set, right?”

“You did,” Basil said through a helping of fruit salad. He covered his mouth and finished chewing before speaking again. “I cannot believe we have one week left. It still feels so incomplete.”

“That’s because it still is. It won’t be complete until everything is in the venue.”

Baz’s shoulders sagged and he looked glum. “There’s so much to do.”

For once, I didn’t fall prey to pessimism. This was my arena as the kitchen was his. “And I took the week off. Baz, this is where I shine.”

He looked down and cocked his head, thinking, as a funny little smile appeared. “I guess it is. I like this side of you, all take charge and business-like.” His grin twisted into a teasing smirk. “DO you want to bring this into the bedroom? Maybe you could spank me?”

I couldn’t hide my expression, and he burst into full-blown giggles. “If looks could kill! Don’t worry, Millie, you’ll always be my princess.” He bent and kissed my forehead while holding me close against his soft side.

***

Though I officially took the week off, I found myself in the office on Monday morning. I’d meant to just pick up my work laptop, but Pauline caught me sneaking in.

“Mildred O’Brien, what on earth are you doing here at 8 a.m.?” Her voice was sharp and made me jump higher than the desk. “I’m not supposed to see you until Friday!”

“Friday?” I puzzled.

My boss grinned and her cheeks blushed ruddy. “Lila made reservations for Valentine’s at Basileus.” Any mention of her Ogress girlfriend turned her into a teenager, it was adorable.

“I’m just getting my laptop, that’s all!” I said, and held the offending piece of electronics out in front of me like a shield.

She planted her hands on her hips and gave me a distinctly fierce look. “And what will you do with that laptop?” At the corner of her mouth, a grin tried to peek through but she kept her face straight.

“Solitaire?” I offered lamely and attempted a winning smile.

Pauline shook her head and held her hand out. “If there’s something you need done, e-mail me. I know for a fact that you have a laptop at home. Focus on the restaurant.”

I handed her the computer reluctantly. “I don’t want to let you or the team down. I know that the spring festival is in a month and –”

“And I ran it for years before you worked here,” she said bluntly. “I don’t wish to be rude, but, while you have many gifts, we can run the foundation without you doing everything. Come, have coffee with me before you head out.”

“I thought you wanted me out of the office,” I protested but followed her anyway. Pauline was fussy about her coffee and usually had something lovely and caffeinated around.

She swept into her office, somehow neat and cluttered all at once. Everything had its place, but its place was usually piled on top of another thing’s place. The only clear spot was where her coffee gear sat.

“What’s that little plunger jar for?” I asked, seating myself.

Pauline whipped around and gave me a stark look. “Don’t you date a chef? It’s a French press. My goodness,” she said, and muttered to herself while she began her ritual. The office that GFF rented was in one of the many historical buildings around Mason Park, and Pauline’s office had been either a very large bathroom or a very small kitchen. It was the smallest room in our suite, but it had a sink and a counter available for coffee at any hour.

She hummed as she brewed, cheerful and calm. Though she resembled him in no other way, right now she reminded me of Baz happily at work in the kitchen. I wondered whether there were any moments I had the same serenely joyful energy, and what it would be that drew that out.

Pauline handed me a steaming mug covered in flowers and sat, her desk between us. “Penny for your thoughts?”

I blew on my coffee to cool it while I considered what to say. Was it really safe to open up to my boss? I thought so, but my fear-borne instincts still protested otherwise. Well, they seemed to serve me less and less over the years anyway. Those instincts need to sit down. “I was thinking about how happy you seemed just making coffee,” I said after a few moments. “And I was wondering if there was anything that made me that happy.”

She gave me the most puzzled look I had seen in a long time. “Millie,” she said gently, “You seem happy when you’re planning events or talking about new ways to create an inclusive community. You look very happy then, do you feel unhappy?”

I tucked one foot under the other knee and swung my free leg, feeling uncertain. “No, I don’t think so. The issue is…” I bit my lower lip and stared out the window, as if the early morning sun glinting off the state house across the park would inspire me. “I’ve been such a people pleaser for so long that I’m not sure whether I’m happy because I truly enjoy it or I’m happy because I’m, well, pleasing people.”

To my relief, Pauline didn’t look dismissive or annoyed. She never would, but try telling my brain that. “That seems like a difficult thing to discern.” She sipped her coffee, gazing at me thoughtfully. “I know that I’m merely looking in from the outside, but from what I’ve seen, you’ve changed quite a bit in the past few months. I don’t know that you would have asked that question a year ago.”

“That’s very true,” I acknowledged and sipped my own chipped, sunflower-studded mug. I was no coffee snob, but the flavor reminded me of cloves and spices and roast chestnuts. It was exquisite. “I do feel like I am changing yet I almost feel exactly the same.”

Pauline smiled gently. “You’re discovering who you really are, it’s wonderful.”

Now, I laughed. “I’ve always been dorky little Millie, I know that.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You think you do, but look at how you’re discovering what makes you happy. It’s okay to not have all the answers yet.” Pauline inhaled the steam from her mug with a blissful expression before adding, “There’s something I’ve said before to you, but I want to say it again. I know you care about the GFF, but it’s okay if your heart leads you elsewhere. Whatever you choose to do, you will help make the world a better place. It’s just who you are as a person.”

Who I was as a person? How could Pauline know better than I did? She was quite sure about it too, so much so that even I couldn’t muster an argument with her. My gaze fell to my lap to hide the sheen of tears bubbling up in my eyes. I tried to sniff discreetly and failed. “You have a lot of confidence in me.”

“I’ve said it before, but usually you fight me on it.” I peered up through my lashes to see her kind, grinning face. She put her coffee down, and tactfully changed the subject. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about how Basileus is coming together? If there aren’t any surprises to spoil, of course.”

I wiped the moisture from my eyes and pulled myself together. “Sure, I’ve got a few minutes. I’ll start with why I’m never working with Regent Rentals again!”

Pauline listened with dancing eyes and a look on her face I couldn’t place. Was that what pride looked like?

***

Later that night, with a pair of fat, strong arms holding me close, a huge, soft body under mine, I spilled my feelings about what Pauline had said. “I know she says I can leave, but what if… what if she doesn’t mean it?”

“She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who administers loyalty tests to her employees or friends,” Baz said, drowsy and slow in the darkness of his room. His chubby fingers stroked my hip lazily. “Go to sleep, baby girl. We need all the rest we can get.”

“But I’m still worrying.” That came out far more childishly than I’d meant to, even petulantly.

Basil cracked into a loud guffaw. “That’s my Millie,” he said between giggles. “Can I help you finish up your worrying for the evening so we can both go to sleep?”

My face mushed into the valley between his moobs. “No, I don’t think so,” I said, muffled by his plumpness. “Could we spend Thursday at my place? I haven’t been home for a week.”

“Sure, princess,” he said, sounding sleepier and sleepier. “Did you want to do Valentine’s then?”

“Oh, we don’t have to. It’s just a holiday invented by greeting cards,” I reassured him.

This woke him up. “It’s our first Valentine’s together,” he said, melodramatic outrage in his voice. “I have to observe all the rituals!”

“You don’t have to,” I laughed, but the way he insisted on it made me feel precious.

One, two, three kisses to the top of my head. “I do, it’s the law.” He squeezed me tight, and added, “It’s also a big deal in Tiefling families. I know you’re human, but I want to make a bit of a fuss.”

“Well, if you insist,” I said with quiet satisfaction, feeling like a treasure.

“I do, and I also insist that we go to sleep,” he said with finality. “Good night, princess.”

I kissed his plush cheek and wriggled down to nestle on top of him. Having a boyfriend who could serve as a mattress was a joy in life I’d never expected to know. “Good night, my king.”