Chapter 6 #2
Taking the spoon, he scooped up some of the ice cream and slathered it on top like jam, before taking another bite.
Heaven is on Earth, and it’s in a snowy little mountain town in the middle of nowhere, he thought contentedly.
Maybe he would have to write a second review.
He’d only ever officially revisited places that had made an effort to improve after initial negative reviews, but he was sorely tempted to give this place a follow-up.
A judicious use of his powers would ensure that neither Sylvie nor Emily would particularly remember the face of the guy who, on a gluttonous whim, had decided to order both a pudding and a donut.
He'd never known where his powers came from – he could only assume that they were some sort of weird result of being a half-shifter. Certainly his mom had been baffled by it when he’d told her, and had assured him that his dad wasn’t a shifter, either.
His father’s only unusual quality had been the money he’d left for them before he walked out of their lives.
The substantial amount of money, which had ensured they’d never been left wanting for much – it had definitely been enough to put Max through school without any troubles, and his mom had been able to open the beauty salon she’d always dreamed of running and hire other people to take care of the business stuff she didn’t feel like doing – which had been most of it.
And she’d always been there to pick him up from school and make sure he got to clubs and sports activities.
She’s always been there at the few games he’d played before he realized sports weren’t quite his thing, cheering and waving one of her colorful silky headscarves in the air whenever he’d done anything even remotely near the ball.
The money had been helpful, sure, but Max had never quite been able to stop wondering why his father had just disappeared like that.
Especially given how much his absence obviously pained Max’s mom.
It was clear that she had loved him deeply, and that his abrupt, mysterious departure was a wound that had never fully healed.
She had always obviously been doing her best to raise him in a warm and loving environment, but sometimes the confusion and grief overwhelmed both of them, even though Max knew that most people who knew his mother – with her massive mane of expertly coiffed hair, perfectly done makeup, and rather, uh, loud taste in fashion, which absolutely extended to fake leopard print jackets and bright pink leggings – would have found that hard to believe.
And Max knew that even though the money had definitely made their lives easier, his mom didn’t know what to make of his father having left it for them – was that all the relationships had meant to him, some transaction?
Or had it been left for them out of guilt?
Was there some reason he’d had to leave that he could never explain to either of them?
But Max knew he’d never be getting any answers to those questions.
The only thing that he’d had to look forward to was learning how to shift, hoping against hope that his bad eyesight didn’t necessarily mean anything in that respect.
He’d grown up thinking almost obsessively about the day when he would shift into his lion form, waiting impatiently to hear its voice speaking to him…
but it had never happened. He’d just been plain old Max, human, alone in his head with his thoughts. His angry, lonely, frustrated thoughts.
It had been obvious that his mom was disappointed about his inability to shift as well.
Not out of shame or anything like that, but out of sadness that she couldn’t share with him what it was to be a shifter.
He knew that she would love nothing more than to find a safe, secluded place in the wilderness and show him how to be a lion, but it just wasn’t meant to be.
Just one more thing your father stole from you, his mother had said bitterly to him when she’d realized that he couldn’t shift… and though he’d protested, part of him had silently agreed with her, even though he’d known on some level that he was being unfair.
In the end, he’d drifted around a bit after high school, unsure what he’d wanted out of life – and somehow, he’d ended up becoming an anonymous food critic.
It wasn’t like he’d planned it, per se – he’d started keeping a blog about his dining experiences for something to do, and it’d just taken off. He’d found that he enjoyed the writing part of it – and the eating part, that went without saying – and other people seemed to enjoy what he wrote.
His ability to keep from being noticed meant that he never had to worry about someone finding out who he was, and so he’d moved around aimlessly, content to eat all the food and then write about it, even as the feeling that there was supposed to be something more gnawed at him.
Nobody noticed him, hardly anyone talked to him, and that was how he liked it.
Not the most glamorous use of unexplained powers, but I guess I’ll take it, he thought glumly, pushing around the now-soggy remains of the donut in the melted puddle of ice cream. And great, now I’ve ruined my donut.
Grumpily, he finished off his melted mess of a dessert. It was still pretty damn good, all things considered, but he was annoyed at himself for letting it get to that stage.
Maybe I should order another one. Just to get the proper experience.
The sound of childish giggles broke him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see a man bouncing a toddler in his arms near the front counter, holding some kind of nonsense conversation with her while she laughed delightedly.
The man was tall – about the same height as Max, even – with strong features and silver streaks at his temples.
Max watched with a slight smile of his own, feeling a pang at the sight of what was presumably the girl’s father spending quality time with her.
He had so few memories of his own father, and they were all blurry, more feelings than concrete memories. But all of them – except for the last one, when he left – were good memories. It was hard to reconcile. He almost wished the only memories he had of him were bad ones.
Abruptly, the man’s head snapped up, his arms tightening around the little girl, and Max suddenly found himself locking eyes with him.
What the –?!
It was like with Kieran all over again, except that this guy was definitely more on the defensive, the child’s wellbeing clearly paramount.
The man looked at him warily, his expression half alert, half confused.
Max, meanwhile, was all confused.
Did he disapprove of me eating with my fingers? Is he concerned that he’ll no longer be the tallest man in town?
… Does he think that I’m a threat for some reason?
It was ludicrous – the only threat Max was posing was to his own wallet. Still, the idea that anyone was perceiving him when he didn’t want them to, let alone seeing him as a threat, was extremely disconcerting.
Uneasy, Max dialed up his powers, willing himself to fade into the background.
After a long moment, the man blinked, looking confused, before shaking his head and turning away.
Max breathed a sigh of relief, sinking down into his chair.
What the hell was that?!
At that moment, Sylvie returned with an enormous slab of the banoffee bread and butter pudding, and all concerns he may have had about the mystery man flew out of his head as he instead concerned himself with devouring the deliciously warm, buttery goodness, which practically oozed with melted chocolate, gooey banana, and sinfully rich dulce de leche.
Is there a rating I can give that’s above five stars? he thought dazedly, so caught up in the experience of the pudding that he found himself picking up the bowl with the intention of licking the last of the caramel sauce and melted ice cream from the bottom.
Feeling a little sheepish, he reluctantly lowered the bowl back to the table.
But I’m sure everyone here would understand.
Raising his eyes to see if anyone had noticed his little faux pas, his heart skipped a beat as he realized that the man with the toddler was staring at him once more.
That… that has never happened before.
He’d never once had the effect of his powers fade like that. Ever.
The man narrowed his eyes, and Max began to feel increasingly unnerved.
What is with that guy?!
“Gale? Honey? Is everything okay?”
Carrying over the muted din of the bakery was Sylvie’s voice as she came up to the mystery man.
Looking at the two of them together, it was quickly clear that they were the parents of the little girl – she looked so uncannily like both of them, despite being a pudgy little toddler, that it was obvious.
The man – Gale, apparently – took his eyes off Max for a moment to look at Sylvie, and Max took the opportunity to boost his powers again, willing himself to seem as boring and unremarkable as the dirty dishes on the table.
Gale looked back at him, then shook his head, confused.
“Everything’s fine. I just had the strangest feeling…” He shook his head again.
Sylvie’s forehead creased slightly. “I’ve learned to trust your strange feelings. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Gale nodded. “Yeah, all good.”
As Gale turned away once more, his daughter turned to face Max, looking over Gale’s shoulder – and locked eyes with him.
Max stared at the baby with a feeling of bewildered horror.
Not horror at the kid itself – it was a baby, neither here nor there in the grand scheme of things. Well, aside from the fact that it was very cute, with chubby rosy cheeks and big green eyes. But he still had his powers running. Nobody should’ve been noticing him, least of all a baby.
The baby gurgled happily, waving at him. Unsure what else he could do, Max waved back, still staring in bafflement.
First, there had been Kieran looking at him in confusion. Then there had been Poppy, completely unaffected by his powers at all. Then Gale had been suspicious of him and semi-immune to his powers, and now this child was staring at him.
Are my powers so far gone that they won’t work on a toddler? he thought in mild despair. Is this the end of Aubrey Z.?
His stomach dropped. Or, even worse… is this the end of my get-out-of-jail-free card for pointless small talk?
The thought was too horrible to contemplate.
He cranked his powers up higher – and, after a long moment, the baby looked away, burying her head against her father’s neck.
Max slumped down in his seat once more.
What is it about this town?! he thought, rubbing at his face in an attempt to ground himself back in reality. Not only are my powers not working properly, but random people are suspicious of me.
There really was no reason to be suspicious – all he wanted to do was exchange his money for their excellent goods and services.
He didn’t like the feeling of being seen as suspicious one bit…
but he would’ve been lying if he’d said that he also wasn’t feeling just a little bit intrigued.
While working for himself as a restaurant reviewer was certainly enjoyable in its own right, he’d been dissatisfied with the rest of his life for a long time, now – since his father had left, really.
There had always been a yearning underneath it all – for a complete family, for the ability to shift, for a sense of belonging. He’d never had a real purpose.
He still wasn’t sure that he had a purpose now, but he did have a mystery, and it was enough to awaken parts of him that had been asleep for a very long time. He suddenly knew that he wanted to find out exactly what was going on, and that it was going to be a challenge.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir – I thought this table was empty.”
Startled, he looked up to see Sylvie standing next to him. Obviously he’d been running his powers a bit too high, and she hadn’t noticed his presence at all. He dialed them back down to a lower setting.
“I’m so sorry, but do you mind if someone shares the table with you?” she went on. “We’re all full.”
Yes, I mind, he wanted to say, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He just had to finish his now-lukewarm tea, and then he could leave – the other person would barely have time to sit down before he’d be standing up.
“No, that’s fine,” he said, and Sylvie smiled.
“Thank you so much, sir,” she said. “Ma’am, if you’d like to take a seat, I’ll bring you your order.”
Sylvie moved aside, to reveal a radiant goddess in human form – or, as she was better known, Poppy.
Tiny snowflakes perched on the top of her beret, struggling valiantly against the warmth of the bakery, and her rebellious blonde curls sprang out from underneath, framing her gorgeous face, her flushed cheeks, her sparkling eyes.
Max tried very hard not to spray out the tea he’d just swallowed – and, somehow, succeeded. More or less, anyway. It certainly wasn’t his most dignified moment.
Poppy’s mouth dropped open into a perfect O.
“… Hi,” she said, clutching her table number tight against her chest.
“Hi,” Max said weakly. “How are you?”
“Oh, you two know each other? That’s great,” Sylvie said cheerfully. “I’ll leave the two of you to catch up!”
Poppy slid down into the other chair, biting her lip in what was obviously an entirely unconscious gesture, and also the most attractive thing Max had ever seen.
“Well,” she said eventually. “That was unexpected.”
“Yeah,” he said, even as he fought the most intense internal battle of his life.
Stay or go? You know you wanted to spend more time with her. Now’s your chance.
“Are you still eating?” Poppy asked. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to feel like you have to get up and leave on my account. I can sit here quietly, if you like.”
She looked so uncertain that Max couldn’t stand it. In that moment, he made his decision.
“I’m still eating,” he said, indicating the minuscule dregs of tea left in his cup. “I’d like to stay here, if it won’t bother you.” He steeled himself. “And maybe… chat? If you’d like.”
Poppy’s face broke out into a brilliant smile, and Max knew he’d made the right choice.
“I would like.”