8. Mint Leaves and Fruit Cleaves and Infinite Diyas #2
“They died with honor,” Delilah added. Then she noticed Jasper. “Oh. Hey, you.”
“Uh. Hey, you,” Jasper agreed awkwardly.
Kelly regally waved away Zahir’s concern.
“How hard can cooking be? Normals do it every day.” She picked up an onion with one hand and a large knife with the other, regarding both with theatrical suspicion.
“Though I must say, whoever invented the concept of chiffonade was clearly disturbed. Chiffonade sounds like a place to keep one’s undergarments. ”
“You’re thinking of a chifforobe.” Zahir gingerly removed the deadly weapon from Kelly’s hand. “And you don’t chiffonade an onion, that’s a technique for leafy greens.”
“Well, there you go! I’ve learned something already—how charming!”
“Mama.” Scarlett took the onion away, too. “Maybe we should start with something simpler?”
“Absolutely not. I refuse to be defeated by an allium. Ooh, wait, though, how about these beauties?” She reached for a bowl of large, dark red orbs. “What can we do with these?”
“Pomegranates,” Zahir said with the desperate calm of a man about to witness culinary war crimes. “Actually, though, that’s a fairly safe job for—I mean good , it’s a good job for you. A fun job. You and Scarlett can remove the arils.”
“The what?!”
“The seeds, Mama,” Scarlett whispered. “The tasty bits.”
“Oh I see, of course, yes. Which knife shall I use?”
“Uhh.” Zahir chuckled uncomfortably as he handed her a wooden spoon. “I’ll cut them open for you, then you tap them. Knock those seeds right out for me, okay? I mean, after all, what can go wrong?”
Scarlett’s eyebrows did a little dance. “I’m excited to find out.”
“Right,” Zahir sighed. “Delightful. Okay, so while you two do that, Delilah could you work on the mint for me? See the pile, on that work table in the corner?”
Delilah’s eyes widened. “That’s one big pile of mint you got there, pal.”
He shrugged. “It’s one big dinner. No stems, please.”
“And no magic,” warned her mother. “Mr. Hopkins, perhaps you can assist Delilah in that task.”
Delilah glared at her mother. If looks could kill, Kelly would have been a small pile of ash on Zahir’s immaculate kitchen floor.
Zahir glanced at Jasper sympathetically. “Let me set these ladies up with some pomegranates and then I’ll get something together for you to eat, okay? Haven’t forgotten, I promise.”
Delilah plonked herself down on a stool beside the mountain of mint stems. “Leave it to the Romans to invent a tradition that involves epic levels of mint deforestation.”
“Did you know—” Jasper carefully sat down on a stool beside her “—Saturnalia’s roots likely go back even further than Rome? There’s evidence of similar winter solstice celebrations in—” He caught himself. “Sorry. I tend to...”
“Go full Nutty Professor?” Delilah was picking her own mint leaves with the kind of focused precision usually reserved for bomb disposal. “Don’t apologize. It’s... I mean, it’s interesting. I like to know the real history, not the sanitized version.”
Their fingers brushed as they reached for the same stem. Jasper felt himself flush a little and tried to change the subject. “Speaking of history,” he ventured, “that tour guide seemed determined to write her own version of it.”
“Yeah, well. Nothing says ‘authentic witch experience’ like cartoon villains in pointy hats, right?”
“Interestingly, the association between witches and pointed hats didn’t emerge until—” He noted her raised eyebrow. “Right. Sorry again. Not the point.”
“No, but it’s kind of exactly the point.
” She told him about visiting the casino, and the conversation she and Scarlett had overheard.
“Scarlett is of course all excited about this big meeting the magicians are apparently having. But I keep thinking about what the men said about the tours, and us not knowing what’s real.
It’s like they’re deliberately spreading different versions of everything. ”
“Creating uncertainty about what’s true and what isn’t...” Jasper’s hands stilled over the mint. “Why, though? What’s the endgame? You know that saying, cui bono ? Who benefits?”
Their conversation was interrupted by an ominous squelching sound, followed by Kelly’s voice from the far side of the kitchen: “Darling, is pomegranate supposed to stain quite this dramatically?”
Red juice sprayed across the kitchen in a Freddy Krueger–esque arc.
“Mama!” Scarlett dove for cover. “That’s not how you?—”
“Well how else am I supposed to—” Kelly gestured with the spoon, sending another spray of juice across the kitchen. “Everything is so sticky . And heavy. It’s so ridiculous to do this the hard way.”
“Annnnd that’s the whole point of Saturnalia,” Delilah said, attacking her mint with renewed vigor.
“We’re supposed to remember what it’s like to live without magic.
To honor the non-magical members of our community who—” She stopped abruptly, realizing everyone was staring at her.
“What? Zahir’s not the only one who gets to share backstory. ”
“I’ll help clean up,” Scarlett offered, but Zahir cut her off.
“No! No more help. You’re officially banned from my kitchen until after the banquet. Except...” He glanced at the mint-picking operation. “You two can stay. You cuties can rip mint until sunrise if you like. The rest of you, out.”
On her way into exile, Kelly swept past the “two cuties” at the mint table and paused. She gazed from Delilah to Jasper and back, one eyebrow arched so high it may as well have been in the air over her head. “You aren’t employing your wand on that mint, are you, Delilah?”
“Oh my gods, Mama,” Delilah groaned. “Can you maybe not talk to me like I’m a child? No, I’m not using a wand, or any magic at all for that matter, as you can obviously see just from observing what we’re doing.”
“Good. And there’s no need to be snotty, I was just checking. Because we do not. Use wands. In Oak Haven. Come along, Scarlett, I believe the decorations in the dining room need adjusting.”
Scarlett just sighed, saying, “Sorry, Del, you know how she gets...” as she followed her mother out.
A silence settled over the kitchen as Delilah and Jasper went back to work. He could see the embarrassment all over Delilah’s face, and he chewed his lip for a moment, trying to imagine if there was anything he could say that might make this awkward moment even slightly better.
Finally, he repeated Kelly’s command, but in his best Christopher Walken voice. “We do NAHHT. Youse WAH-nds. In oakHAVEn.”
Caught off guard, Delilah snorted. “Wow. I would not have expected someone who looks like you to have a respectable Walken impression in his quiver.”
“I have many. LAYers. So, anyway, let’s get back to my question from before. Cui bono ?”
“Who benefits?” Delilah considered this. “Well, whatever the magicians are doing is for their own benefit, rest assured. Why, though, I don’t know.”
“Something about the almighty dollar? Do you get repeat customers, if you tell completely confusing stories?”
“Sure, tourists just love that . . .”
Jasper grinned, taking on the persona of a Yelp reviewer. “ Did the Oak Haven witch tour, and the guide confused the shit out of me. Five stars, totally recommend .”
A crash from the dining room interrupted her revelation. “Everything’s fine!” Kelly’s voice rang out.
“Should we...” Jasper gestured vaguely toward the noise.
“Absolutely not.” Delilah returned to her mint with renewed focus. “Trust me, when my mother starts ‘helping,’ that’s when you run. Of course, all you have to do to forget her reign of terror is just go home.”
The words hung in the air between them like frost.
“Right. I’m a human Etch-a-Sketch, basically. One good shake and...” He gestured like he was wiping a slate clean. “I wonder if that explains the magicians’ behavior? Seems like it would be tough to really grow a tourist trap if your visitors can’t remember where they’ve been.”
Their eyes met and something electric crackled in the air. Jasper watched her with that same focused intensity he’d given the molding in the lobby, like he was trying to memorize every detail before it slipped away.
“What?” She made a face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Professional habit. You’re a significant historical feature.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean...” He fumbled with the mint. “Not in an artifact way. More in a... uh. You know what? I’m going to stop talking now.”
“Probably smart.” But she was smiling that reluctant smile again, the one that made his chest do complicated things.
“Del!” Scarlett’s head appeared around the doorframe, her hair dusted with what appeared to be Roman tinsel. “Quick question about load-bearing walls...”
“No.” Delilah didn’t look up from her mint massacre. “Whatever Mama’s planning, the answer is no.”
“She says she’s been inspired by the Chatterjees’ Diwali celebrations?
Something about how if one festival of lights is beautiful, then surely multiple would be better?
So she’s conjuring more chandeliers. Like, a lot more, and uh, they’re all ghee-powered?
She’s calling it her ‘Infinite Diyas Project.’”
“Her what .” Delilah slowly turned to face her sister.
“Yeah, she’s gone a bit... recursive with it? Each new chandelier spawns two more, and each of those spawns two more? And uh, I could really use some backup in here.”
“ Oh fine , I’m coming.” She turned to Jasper. “Sorry about, uh...” She made a vague gesture, encompassing everything from the mint pile to Zahir’s frenzy to her mother’s apparent determination to bring the ceiling down.
“No worries,” he said. “Like you say, I won’t remember any of it anyhow.”
Something flickered across Delilah’s face, and for a moment she looked like she might say something else. But then came the sound of crashing crystal in the dining room. She stood, looking exasperated, and stalked out of the kitchen.
Jasper was left alone with his mint and a nagging feeling that he’d said exactly the wrong thing.
Pausing his work to take in the newcomer’s troubled expression, Zahir advised, “Don’t take it too hard, buddy. Del is a tricky one.”
“Sure.” Jasper stared at his pile of meticulously separated leaves. They offered no insights. “I don’t suppose you have any advice about falling for someone you’re destined to forget?”
“Plenty,” Zahir said. “So here goes: Don’t. ”