Chapter Four #3
She carried the cutting board over to the stove, and he swept the slivers into the milky chocolate. They fell like dark snow, and she inhaled the already-rich chocolaty scent. “It smells amazing,” she reported as she washed the empty cutting board and knife in the sink.
“Its taste will transport you. Metaphorically, of course, not literally—though it is said that taste can directly link to memories. Ah, to remember happier times.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Calisa saw a shadow shift and looked out the window over the sink. The sky was a sweep of dark blue and the mountains were silhouettes. The apple tree shivered in the night breeze. Beneath it was the statue of the lady.
Leaning forward, Calisa peered out at the statue.
She wondered why someone had moved it from the front lawn to the back.
And how. It had to weigh a ton. She thought of Jack carrying the stone gargoyle up to one of the guest rooms. She supposed he might just like to rearrange sculptures?
Or maybe this was a different statue from the one in the front.
That seemed more likely. She just hadn’t noticed it in the daylight, when she’d been awed by the view of the forest and the mountains.
Mulligan claimed two mugs from one of the cabinets.
Both looked handmade, slightly lopsided but glazed with colors like a sunset.
He poured the hot chocolate into each, then took a sip.
Closing his eyes, he swallowed. She waited a moment, expecting him to sigh dramatically, and he didn’t disappoint. He sighed like the wind over the sea.
Calisa lifted the mug to her lips. The chocolaty steam rose deliciously into the air until she felt as if she’d tasted it already.
She took a sip, and…Wow. She’d had lots of hot chocolate before, some from really nice bakeries in Manhattan and one from a gourmet chocolate shop in Park Slope, but this…
It tasted like the warmth of a hug from a friend who just wanted you to feel better.
Closing her eyes, she took a second sip, larger than the first. She felt it warm her throat as it slid into her rib cage, and she imagined the chocolate spreading into her heart, enveloping it with rich sweetness.
“It’s the vanilla,” Mulligan explained.
“It’s magnificent,” Calisa said. She drank again, and this time it tasted like a toasty fire in a hearth while snow fell outside—not that she’d sat by many fireplaces; they didn’t have one in their apartment, but it tasted the way she imagined a nice, cozy fire would feel.
Silence fell across the kitchen as they drank their hot chocolate, but this time it was a gentle quiet, and she didn’t mind it.
Outside the crickets chirped, a tuneless melody, and she thought she heard an owl, low and soft.
The moon was three-quarters full, and its light fell across the counter, mixing blue with the amber of the kitchen lights.
“I hope your stay in this sanctuary soothes your heart wounds,” Mulligan said.
Calisa lifted her mug in a salute. “The hot chocolate does help.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“I hope it helps you too.”
“We shall see.” Setting aside his mug, Mulligan pulled a vial out of his shirt pocket. “I do continue to try. My hope is unflagging, and my heart forever true.”
She blinked at the vial, wondering what he planned to use that for. It was made of murky glass and looked more like an antique than part of a chem lab experiment. The stopper was made of tarnished silver. He removed it and laid it on the counter.
He carefully poured hot chocolate into it while she watched.
A few drops spilled onto the counter. He put the stopper back on and then cleaned the spatter.
Finishing, he smiled at her with a mouth full of narrow bright white teeth as he tucked the vial back into his pocket.
He patted it, as if to confirm it was safe.
Okay, that was odd. “Um, there might be a better way to transport the leftovers? Maybe a travel cup?” She crossed to the cabinets. “Or a jar with a lid?”
“This will suit my purposes,” Mulligan said.
Maybe he just wanted a tiny sip of hot chocolate for later tonight? She wasn’t sure how to ask without it sounding rude, and it really wasn’t her business anyway. She thought of Auntie Zee’s rule of no questions.
Humming to himself, a dirgelike melody in a minor key, he began putting away the vanilla, milk, and other ingredients. Calisa washed the pot and bowl, and he wiped down the counter and stovetop.
As they finished, he executed a slight bow. “I thank you again for your kindness, as well as your company.” He then shuffled out of the kitchen, bringing only the odd little vial with him. She listened to his footsteps soft on the stairs.
Calisa took another sip of her still-warm hot chocolate.
She looked out the window at the garden at night. Stars were strewn across the sky, and a cloud drifted across the moon. She did feel better.
Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.
There was just one more thing she had to do, and then she thought she’d be able to fall asleep. Carrying her mug with her, she went to the end of the hallway of supply closets. She stopped in front of the broom closet.
Calisa took a fortifying sip as she contemplated the door, feeling a little silly for still thinking she saw and heard more than old hinges and a shadowy closet, and then she opened it. The door didn’t shriek, groan, or howl. Inside, the closet held only brooms and mops.
She closed the door and went to bed.