Leon

It had to be the aromatic tomato-based broth, with basted beef, brisket, fried duck eggs and pickles onions that made the air heavy and caught my fancy; it gave me buoyancy to find my feet in the dining hall straightaway. The incapability of getting my mind aligned to the splendour and Lessie tucking into some purple-tinged, lacquered shine pastry silently was the jump scare as if I was at the crest of the dangerous ocean's tide while she had already found a calm shore.

"God, what's all this? So, festive-ish," I busted out. For the whole while I felt as though the tablescape was done for the Hollywood royalties in attendance. Diversity and tradition went side by side.

It wasn't like I had never seen such grand celebrations in life, but the surprise had its unique charm. The dishes were opposites of their aromas. Every platter had strata of ingredients I would rather name wrong. A motley crew. But a classic one.

But I appreciated the revival of the long-stopped practice of lavish, indulgent meals which was presently rolled down in the form of an entire miles-long spread on the table. My grandfather held close his approved braises for dinner. The thrilling want to have a mouthfeel of every (unique) dish endangered the small intake of my everyday diet.

I clapped my hands and picked a squashy cube of supposedly chicken from the main plate directly, to which Lessie made a face. "Where are your manners Uncle? Use a spoon."

Adding to her sadness, I licked the juice of tangy churrasco chicken with my little finger. God, the way it mingled with my taste buds. The unconventional twist of slaw with the same. I raised a taunt finger in the air while piercing at Lessie's playful eyes.

There, a bubbling cauldron conjured up before my eyes in a beat. I glanced up at Amy from within the eddied smoke that formed fog before my eyes.

I wasn't really shocked to accept abnormalities and this was one of such since her arrival in my life. Like today, she might in future take exceptionally weird endeavours to push me to have a change of heart but I knew I had to maintain a steady outlook.

My Virgoan eyes fell on her dirty apron and she instantly dumped the plate on the table only to struggle to remove it. A nervous smile that never left her face. "Oh, I think there's a knot."

Maximo broke the silence with enthusiasm, "Exactly the kind of sweet homecoming we all yearned for."

She looked too exhausted and depleted to even move her arms to her back so I did her a little mercy by helping her. "Shame on them for not teaching you the basics right!" Amid breaking the tie open I asked hovering, "Truth is, I'm quite stunned to comprehend that hospitals can also be a place for patients to unleash their cooking potential. Wow. All fun and games."

From the side, I saw her frowning.

"I'm quite jealous of Doctor Connor's job now. I'm sure he must have asked you to make him coffee a couple of times a day." I tried to stay serious and pulled the strings tightly toward me.

"Luckily, he makes his coffee himself." I paused and her side glance broke my reverie, "Why don't we invite him for dinner?"

"Sure. Sure. But I think you are not ready. The cuisine is more like a potluck and has no class." She was not quivering until I held the ties of her apron tightly and pulled her toward me. "I tell you the idea of tempting the strongest-willed diner like him would be plain vain."

"Meals are not just prepared for the palate, they are for the eyes also."

"More is not always merrier." He rubbed his forehead.

"It's not like I'm trying to impress anybody." Her confidence sent me into a spiral of dishonour.

I countered immediately, "Why? You don't like him? He's single, rich and quite achievable if you use these tactics on him instead of me."

"He's a nice man. We talk about nature, people and psychology. Well, that's about it." She turned around and the radiance in her eyes sent me an open invitation to a temptation island. She began smiling on top of that.

According to my study, she was a normal person, but sometimes she did go overboard when started seeing me as her husband, and I thought maybe this might be confusing for Dr. Connor to write anything on paper. She didn't unnerve her despite the "I'm doing everything for you. I'm just trying to indicate-"

"Okay. But what exactly are you indicating? Give me a rough sketch." I tried to fray her nerves in a hush-hush tone. A rational thought of asking her about the scar on her forehead did cross my mind but I forwent.

"My best bet says that you will keep the keys to our bedroom in my hands without me doing anything extraordinary." She turned around and her contagious positive attitude recoiled him somewhere. Then she instantly waved the crumbled apron in her hand.

I saw something captivating in her eyes. The pair depicted the power to hold people in the palm of her hand. The depth, the will, the sickness, maybe it was just that we stared at each other for very long. A thing to admit, whenever she got serious, all her saying seemed so true that even I would nimbly switch to my vulnerability and introspection.

She lifted a happy face and resumed talking to Maximo as if nothing happened. I sat back

Maximo stood behind Lessie's chair.

"Oh, love. Don't say such silly things. Hearty meals were every day's affair, don't you remember?" Her one thin arm slung at the side while the other one snaked around my chair's frame.

"Miss Ammy," Maximo muttered with due respect and pulled the chair next to mine. "Have a seat, as you devour the wonderful dishes."

And then a sudden voice protested violence, "No, she's going to sit near me."

Maximo nodded and his smile reached his ears.

"Yeah. Max, make it a point. I'll always sit next to my baby princess if anyone doesn't have any problem." She kept a vigilant watch over my plate and demurely told me to try the soup she had made for me.

Hence, she mistook my silence as though I was entertaining her and gave her an acceptance card. Almost like she had studied her surroundings so well, that the number of grapes in a bunch would be known by her closely.

But my primary focus went on Lessie. But what boggled my mind forever, was seeing how amiable and touchy Lessie had been with her. For one, I never thought she would forge a relationship with my baby princess.

"Uncle Leon," Lessie spoke in a lilting accent. "Initially, I hated her so much that I was planning not to make her last longer than three days. I thought she was one of the nannies we see in the movies you brought to look after me."

"What?" Ammy corrected her, feeling glum.  "I'm not a nanny material."

Lessie laughed and asked in a jovial tone, "Then what are you doing here?"

Suddenly, Ammy stared into her empty plate, perplexed, her lips parted and tired of parroting the parody of sad life. And now, how would she explain the little girl? Before she could germinate an unreasonably weird story in her mind, Maximo jumped in. "Leon knows better."

I bore a poker face and picked up a fork. At least he didn't designate her as my wife. Nobody. Nobody was normal in here.

"Maximo, I'm sure you are aware that we have to organize a success party."

"Yes. The arrangements are going to be top-notch." Maximo chanted, "Oh, here he comes."

"Dr. Connor! What a pleasant surprise." Ammy joined her hands together. "You won't believe I was just talking to Leon to invite you to dinner someday."

"Perfect. I'm here at the right time."

Everyone laughed except me, I smiled only.

"Okay, I got y'all some presents." Connor extended the goodies bag to Ammy and she with her motherly instincts gave Lessie the right present.

"Say Thank you," Ammy poked Lessie to say.

"Thanks, Doc."

"No problem at all." Connor nestled the little ones' hair and presented a small box separately to Ammy. "And this is for you."

"Oh." Her softened gaze touched me from a distance and then she rewarded the man with a side hug. "A pair of earrings. Gems are antic. I owe you one."

"Okay. I can have it my way." He looked at me and then back at her, forging suspense. "This table should be enough."

"Sure."

I kept sitting while Ammy took a seat in the corner and placed Lessie in the centre. An obscure feeling scrawled under my skin.

"My aunt lives near Princey Lane and there's a whole decent market."

"Local?" I objected.

"Local markets are the best," Ammy interrupted.

"I was doubtful to drop by this late. But I'm glad I made the right choice." He filled his mouth to the top and he had to hit his chin out. "It tastes so good. I want to kiss the chef's hand."

"I'll be overwhelmed." She swiped her head toward her left, her skinny fingers merely inches away from his mouth.

I was watching her until Connor faked coughing and made an obscure feeling scrawl under my skin, "What? Well, if Mr. Forero allows?"

I smirked and lifted a hand. "Go on." I slurped the water and dared my gaze turned away from Ammy. Then even began chit-chattering as she served him just the way she did to me. The only difference was that Connor was going to get on bed with immoderate eating, and I a two cubes of chicken and some leafy textured items.

Moments later. The bad feeling was festering inside me. I was balancing on the edge of my chair. I had to choke back my ego and make a statement soon to show that there was one more full grown-up man with equal fundamental rights to act at the table, "Maximo, take Lessie to bed. And wait, why's your tongue is red?"

"Leon, it's just the raspberry syrup. The tongue gets the colour-"

"I know, I used to have lots of popsicles. Even snatched them from other school boys' hands outside the school." I was trying to sound hilarious and mischievous by cooking up a story, but nobody was amused.

"We all did that ages ago," Connor resonated.

But Lessie showed her teeth before turning away with Maximo. My girl. I decided to escape from the torturous environment and stopped her midway. "Lessie, wanna have an apple with peanut butter?" I launched from my place slowly toward her. "Bedtime snack."

"Nah, I'm full." She twirled and went back on her way.

"Then how about playing 'The Yes and No Game'?" Please don't say no. My heart was going to rupture.

"Uncle. Not tonight."

Immediately Connor spoke as if he realised what was his purpose of coming here, "Leon, you are going? I wanted to have a moment with you, in private."

"Wait, I can take her. I'll be sleeping with her tonight," Ammy blurted, elevating from the chair that the gentleman had pulled out for her. That was enough for my eyes.

"I'm sure the dessert must be left to taste. Make sure to feed your doctor well. Good night everyone."

---

I was at my study with the necessities that I had assembled - paper, pen and a crime blog on my laptop I was poring over. But only if my mind could find its path back home, I could start writing a line or two for a new book. There was a knock at the door and I went ahead to open it.

"Oh, has he left already?"

"He even said salutations while you took off like a shot." She leaned onto the doorframe, visibly deflated.

"Yeah. I heard that. I wonder if he had heard my salutation that I said relatively before," I said dubiously.

She shook her head and waved a hand.

Haphazardly, I tapped my toe against the wooden floor and asked her when she was about the leave, "Wanna have coffee?" She rubbed her eyes and nodded. "You will make it," I added, poking my tongue to the side.

She abided and in a matter of a few minutes, I got my booster.

"Why only one? You aren't having it?" I took a sip and the off-putting flavour implied a serious digestive upset. "God."

"I seriously hate coffee."

"Smart response. I can't wrangle you in because how would you know the right proportions when you hate coffee with that sourpuss expression."

"It shouldn't be that bad, though."

"Really? Taste it. Come on," I held out the cup in a challenge until she took it from my hand and drank sceptically.

"It's intense, maybe. You can pass it off as one of the types of coffee in the world." She transferred the cup to my hand.

"I appreciate you for staying back to make me this intense coffee." I reclined myself against the wall near the window and joined the cup to my lips. "Oh, it tastes better now."

I guessed she shifted her eyes in my direction. I couldn't be sure because I wasn't ready to look up after what I had just declared. She ambled and rested her hands on the table, facing the window, three feet and four inches away from me.

I stared at her through the corner of my eyes. A strand of hair shuddered against the pinkish scar on her forehead. She closed her lids. The bodice of her chiffon shirt danced from her collarbone to the nape of her neck.

The breathtaking intrusion of the moonlight against her skin. No makeup. Just a natural tint on her lips. A claw clip that gathered her hair in a messy braid. Was I changing the opinion I had for her? Was I wanting to run my fingers along her skin? All the pain and suffering I had shelved in a box. No, then a laser focus on a series of old betrayals and scars I got under my belt from my exes stopped me from giving her any importance. My subconscious hissed warning.

"What do you see in the sky?" she blurted.

"Abhored darkness."

"Star," She cut me off.

I reacted with a jerk of my head. "That's something new."

"Leon, I've always wanted to be a star." Her voice trailed off.

I followed her steady gaze and she slowly lifted her index finger.

"I think your wish can be fulfilled right now."

"I didn't get you."

"Uh, such a blockhead you are." I exhaled and said, "Go out. Run into the car. And if you survive then repeat the process until your life ends here and you begin another journey up there."

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