by Anthology
When he reached the door though, surprisingly, it came open enough for him to squeeze inside and curl up on the floor before transforming.
Shivers surged through him as he got his bearings. The chill of the winter cold should have been making him nuts.
Should have been, anyway.
Instead, he realized a blanket had been put over him, and the warm smell of bread filled his senses. He glanced around, expecting to see Kevin gloating over having shown moment of kindness, but that’s not who sat at the kitchen table.
It was Ruthie.
“Thank you,” he muttered as he rose to his knees. Glancing around the kitchen, he saw his clothing folded neatly by the back door, and he started putting on his pants. While unbalancing her had been fun before, he was over the shock value.
Now he was drained.
Which was good. That’s what running was supposed to do. Drain him of all the fiery emotions that made him nuts.
“You’re welcome. Do you feel better?” Ruthie asked.
He nodded as he fastened his jeans and crossed to the table. “Yeah. Do you?”
She nodded. “I got the bread baked.” She gestured to the counter, where the stollen sat.
A thought occurred to him as he inhaled the warm yeasty smell. “You were able to finish the bread?”
“Yes.”
“So why don’t you stay out of the box? Don’t bother going back in at all.”
“I can’t. It’s like food—I can go for a while without it, but I have to get back in eventually.”
“How long can you be outside of it?”
“About a day. Much longer than that, and I get very confused, and unable to function.”
Lee glanced at the clock on the stove. “How much longer can you stay out?”
“Not much, I was about to go back when I saw you coming up to the door.” She stood and crossed to the old box sitting on the counter. She opened the lid and put her hand right next to it. “I will see you tomorrow, and we can get the rest of the desserts done then.”
Lee nodded and watched her fade away as the box lid snapped shut.
He was going to miss her tonight.
11
Two days before Christmas
Lee’s morning started early. Another foot of snow had fallen on Liverly overnight, and even more was expected to accumulate. On top of the several inches which already covered the ground, the new snow meant any road travel would be horribly hazardous for the next couple of days. Even the weathermen were warning people against traveling.
Lee expected the head chef to call in and leave him in charge of the restaurant. Lee always picked up the slack when he had to.
That’s what he did. He took care of things.
Surprisingly, the owner of the restaurant decided to close, instead, giving everyone off until after Christmas. Unusual for sure, but Lee didn’t complain as he notified the kitchen staff.
An extra day at home was an early Christmas present—including more time with Ruthie.
Just thinking of her brought a smile to his face.
He flipped open the recipe box and ran his fingers over the tabs—why, he wasn’t sure, but it’s what he did the first time, and she had appeared then.
And he wasn’t going to break the tradition.
A breeze whooshed over him, and when he glanced over his shoulder, Ruthie stood behind him in all her polka dot glory.
“Good morning.”
She grinned back. “Good morning to you too.” She wore the same dress, and it looked as perfect as it had before. Like it had been only a moment since he’d last seen her.
“Do you want some coffee?” He asked as he put his cup under the single-cup coffee pot.
Her eyes lit up. “I would love some.”
He set her cup in the machine, and got out a fresh coffee pod. She came to his side, watching him work the simple machine, fascinated.
She giggled when it finished her cup. “That is amazing.” She gestured to the machine. “What happens to the little cup?”
“Throw it away.”
“Seems wasteful,” She pulled the cup out. “Though they’re just the right size for a little herb plant. I bet you could make a little mini herb garden with them. The coffee grinds would make perfect fertilizer for the roots.”
He blinked at her. “That’s brilliant.”
She shrugged. “I was born in the Great Depression. You didn’t waste items you could reuse for something else.”
Lee smirked. “That explains a lot.”
“What?”
“We grandkids invoked a rule when it came to any present from Grandma. We opened the box before we got excited about the gift.”
“Why is that?”
“She tended to reuse boxes. My sister, for example, got a box that was for a phone. She was thrilled, bouncing off the walls, thinking Grandma had bought her a new phone, and then she opened the present, and realized it was a shirt tucked into a phone box.”
They both laughed, and when they were done, he held his coffee cup to Ruthie. “Cheers,” he said, taking a sip.
She did the same. “Oh, this is good.”
The bliss on her face made him think of a question. “So tell me, what do you do when you’re in the box? Is it like a little house in there? Do you know time has passed?”
“It is like I’m asleep,” she said. “Like a strange dream.”
“Do you remember your dreams?”
“Not really.”
“Must be nice,” he muttered as his stomach started to grumble.
“Why?” Ruthie asked.
Lee crossed to the fridge and started pulling out ingredients for omelets. “I remember my nightmares.”
“Do you have a lot of them?”
He nodded as he put some veggies and leftover steak on the counter. “Every night.”
“What do you dream about?” She asked, taking a step toward him. Sympathy was all over her face.
He was not a fan of pity, so he turned toward the collection of ingredients and started prepping everything—chopping things always made him feel better.
“Lee?” she asked. “I am sorry if I am being too forward. Forgive me.”
He put his knife down and glanced at her. “I dream about my mate. It is a werewolf thing.”
Her eyes opened wide, words tumbling from her. “I didn’t realize you—I didn’t mean to flirt, which I shouldn’t have been doing anyway, and—”
“She’s dead,” Lee said, cutting off her sentence.
“Oh.” She looked away, and he saw her brush a tear from the corner of her eye. “I am so sorry, Lee. I cannot imagine losing a spouse like that.”
“We weren’t married.”
“But you said she was your mate. I thought that practically married you.”
“It does, most of the time,” Lee said. “But we were too young. I was nineteen when she died.”
“I didn’t realize. The little I know about mythical creatures is what Evelyn told me. Well, and my own grandmother.”
“Why would your grandmother know anything?” He asked as he took a swig of coffee.
“She was a fairy.”
Lee almost spit out his drink. “What?”
“That is what she claimed, that she was a retired fairy godmother. No one believed her, of course. But her stories about the mythical creatures that walked the world were wonderful to listen to.”
“What, and now you believe her stories?”
She tipped her head to the side. “I’ve been trapped in a recipe box by a djinn for seventy-five years, and I’m having coffee with a werewolf who is my last hope to remove the curse. I think any doubts I may have had before have now dissipated.”
“Good point.” He put all his prepped veggies on a plate and got going on his omelets. “You want veggies only or meat and veggies?”
“You’re making one for me?”
He blinked, surprised she thought he wouldn’t. “We have a lot of cooking to do and you’re goi
ng to need your energy. What do you want in it?”
“Oh, anything is fine,” she said. “Can I assist you?”
He shook his head. “I got this.” And he did. Omelet making was a favorite of his—so simple to create, but so easy to screw up. Always felt awesome when he made a perfect one…
Like the one he slid on the plate for Ruthie. “Here.”
She was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as she carried it to the table. But he noticed she didn’t dig in right away.
“Go ahead and eat.”
“I will wait,” Ruthie said, and sipped on her coffee.
He shrugged. While he dished up his own, he remembered how Grandma would always wait until everyone was seated before she’d start eating.
Must be an era thing…
Lee was sitting down when Kevin came in.
“Whoa, we are trapped here. I hope you’ve stocked the kitchen,” Kevin said as he meandered in. “What no bacon?” Kevin scooped up Ruthie’s plate and turned to walk out.
“What the hell are you doing? Put that down,” Lee said.
Kevin blinked at him. “Why?”
“Give back her plate,” Lee snapped.
“What are you talking about, Lee?” Kevin’s eyebrow went up, and he slowly sat the plate back on the table. “Are you already going stir crazy?”
Lee put his hands on his hips. “You’re eating Ruthie’s food. Give it back.”
“Lee, there’s no one here.”
“Yes there is. She’s right there.” He pointed to Ruthie. “She’s sitting in that chair.”
“Lee, I’m going to take you to the hospital. This isn’t normal.”
“Just look,” Lee pointed. “Ruthie, help me out. Pick up your cup or something.”
So Ruthie did.
But it didn’t have the effect that Lee was looking for, at least not for him. Ruthie picked it up and took a sip.
“What the fuck?” Kevin cried out. “Where’d that cup go?”
“She’s holding it in her hand,” Lee said. And then it dawned on him. “You’re touching it, so he can’t see it.”
Ruthie smiled. “Exactly.” She sat the cup back down, this time in a different place on the table.
“How the fuck did the cup move?”
“I told you, it’s Ruthie. She moved it.”
Kevin stared at him. “Okay this is a little too weird for me. You need to explain.”
“Are you going to listen?” Lee asked.
“If it keeps you from turning into a raging psycho while we’re snowed in, yeah, I’ll listen.”
So Lee started to explain about Ruthie. Who she was, and what he knew. Kevin listened, watching Lee the entire time, like he was ready to put him in a straight-jacket.
“Listen, I know this sounds crazy,” Lee said.
“Sounds? It’s more than hearsay at this point.”
Lee shrugged, then nodded in agreement with his older brother. “What do you want me to say? It is what it is.”
Kevin glanced in the direction of where Ruthie was still sitting. “So how come you can see her and I can’t? I’m just as much wolf as you are. Hell, I live on Avalon, surrounded by all kinds of mythicals.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Lee asked.
“Well I’m—I should be able to see her. I’m a doctor.”
“She doesn’t need a doctor,” Lee said.
“Well, what does she need?”
Lee crossed and stood near Ruthie. “A perfect Christmas.”
Kevin snorted. “She’s not going to find that in this house. We’re as dysfunctional as they get.”
“Oh, you are not,” Ruthie said.
“There’s always been a split between the wolf side and the human side. The humans consider us beneath them.” Lee put his hand on her shoulder as he explained.
“Really?” Ruthie asked, patting his hand for a moment as she spoke. “That seems silly. Truly, aside from your, well, growly side, you both seem mostly human. And I would never guess your sister is a werewolf, from her demeanor.”
Lee snorted. “Then you don’t see my sister too much. She is as growly as we are. Maybe more.”
“I can’t even follow,” Kevin muttered and gestured to Lee’s arm. “Dude, seriously, that looks weird. Don’t do that.”
Lee raised his eyebrow. “What?”
“You have your hand on her shoulder? Her head?” Kevin asked. “And you’re talking to her. You sound crazy.”
Such a natural thing to do, it didn’t dawn on Lee that his brother couldn’t tell what he was doing.
“Her shoulder.”
Kevin shook his head. “That is so freaky.”
“But you know she’s here,” Lee said, cautious of his brother’s reaction. While he didn’t seem to disbelieve him, he wasn’t sure Kevin solidly believed him, either.
“Something’s going on.” He inhaled a breath. “It smells like Grandma in here.”
Lee grinned. “That’s Ruthie.” A strange thought—to know that the scent he’d always associated with his grandmother wasn’t even her, but Ruthie. Though when he thought about it, he only smelled it when Grandma had been cooking. Never any other time Grandma was around.
Kevin nodded. “So what are you two doing today?”
“Cooking,” Lee said.
“Good luck with that,” Kevin said as he walked out of the room.
Lee watched him leave. “I’ll bet anything he’s on the phone with our sister, telling her I’ve lost my mind.”
Ruthie chuckled. “Very likely.
12
Ruthie patted her very full tummy as Lee poured her a glass of wine.
“I find it weird you’ve not eaten all these years,” Lee said as he took a seat next to her.
“Truly this is the longest I’ve ever been out of my box. Usually it is only for an hour or two here and there.” She sniffed the wine, then took a sip. It was quite the perfect end to their busy day.
“Don’t you get hungry?” Lee swirled his own serving of wine, and she watched the way he savored the scents—minute shifts on his face as he considered the wine’s bouquet.
She wasn’t quite so picky. It was all wonderful as far as she was concerned. Everything was wonderful.
She stroked the stem of her wine glass. “Not really. At least, today is the first time I have been.”
“One more damn thing about magic I don’t get,” he said as he glanced around the kitchen.
She smirked. “I do not understand it either. Of course, we all thought Grandmother was a bit daft with all her talk of magic and fairies and monsters, but they were such fun stories.” She paused as she remembered sitting on her grandmother’s lap and listening to her tales. “After all, why would we believe that monsters and magic existed?”
Lee smirked. “Interesting what really walks in the world.”
“So true.” She held her glass to his, and they toasted, the clang solid and true in the little kitchen.
Lee stretched in his chair next to her, his leg bumping hers under the table. She pulled away, but more from habit than any discomfort Lee created. Over the course of the day, the intimacy between them had gotten stronger. Even though the kitchen was smallish, there was still ample room for them to work around and not brush into each other.
Yet Lee seemed to take a moment to touch her whenever he could.
And Ruthie couldn’t stay away from him, even if she wanted to.
But she didn’t.
She adjusted her legs under the table again, so her knee intentionally brushed his.
His gaze met hers, and he moved his leg so they connected even more.
Her cheeks warmed as very inappropriate ideas ran through her mind.
She looked away from him and patted her hair. She wasn’t going to let herself think thoughts like that. She glanced at their work instead—all done for the day. All the pies were made, the turkey marinated in the brine, and everything which could be prepped for easy assembly was ready
for the dinner on Christmas Eve.
“Gosh, it’s tomorrow,” Ruthie whispered.
“What is?” Lee asked.
“Christmas Eve.”
His face darkened. “That is the day, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“I won’t see you again after that, will I?”
“If this doesn’t work, no, you won’t.”
Lee shook his head as he slumped in his chair, and he growled.
She knew how he felt. She hadn’t had this much fun cooking in a long time. She wasn’t ready for the day to end.
Or her time with Lee to end. He fascinated her—both following her instructions about certain things, but then putting his own twist on other things, creating his own version.
Like the stollen—he’d substituted several of the bread’s ingredients for others, twists she wouldn’t have considered trying, because it went against her recipe. Yet the bread had smelled wonderful when it baked. She couldn’t wait to taste it.
If she got to, anyway.
“We’ll figure it out.” She smiled and reached over to brush his hand.
He slipped his fingers in hers, and she stared at the contrast between her hand and his—if they were cartoons, hers would be circles and curves, and his squares and hard lines.
Her gaze darted to his short middle finger.
Malik’s visit came to mind She wondered if she should tell him about the djinn’s visit. Nothing more could be done to change anything—tomorrow was the day.
A well of guilt swirled inside, and she really felt like she should tell him, well, something.
Because Malik was right—the other day when he opened the recipe box was not the first time Lee had ever seen her. Even if he didn’t remember it, she did.
And she should be honest about it.
His brown eyes met hers. Desire she couldn’t quite articulate burned between the two of them, an energy that seemed to grow stronger by the minute. The energy warred with the guilt, or maybe it fueled the guilt. If she didn’t have the desires, she wouldn’t have the guilt about his hand.
His thumb caressed hers, and the simple touch zinged all through her body. Her cheeks warmed, and she looked away.
“Ruthie,” Lee whispered.
