“Really?” Bextra looked down at their hands. She was well aware of the Gnome’s business; she had done her homework.
“Yes, yes,” continued Drimblerod, not knowing why, and incapable of stopping himself. “We offer all manner of wands, custom imbuing, repairs, and even testing at our cutting edge facility. You’d be hard pressed to...”
As Drimblerod spoke, Nulu casually moved beside the table and leaned over Grimbledung. She pretended to lean over and rearrange the cups and saucers as she hissed at the Gnome: “If you do not get up right now and be sociable, I’m going to reach down your throat, grab your tallywacker and pull it out your mouth turning you inside out.”
Grimbledung swallowed the coffee in his mouth. Hard. He had never heard that particular threat, and wasn’t even sure if it was physically possible. Even so, he didn’t want to risk it. Especially when it came from a full-grown Trolless. He stood quickly and moved beside his partner. Who was still talking.
“… so overall, it’s a pretty successful venture we two have.” Drimblerod smiled at the Dwarfess.
She smiled back, dimples burning cute little .. well... dimples into Drimblerod’s soul. She looked down at her hand still in Drimblerod’s. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to let go. Excellent.
Nulu cleared her throat. “Why don’t you folks have a seat?”
Drimblerod seemed to startle as he realized they were all standing. “Good idea, Nulu!” Still holding Bextra’s hand, he half-led, half-dragged her to the table. “You can sit here,” he said as he pointed with his free hand, then pushed her down into the seat. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. “Grim, sit there.” He gestured at the empty chair beside her.
“But I wanna...”
“SIT! THERE!” He (finally) let go of Bextra’s hand. And used it to pull his partner around the table, then he half-led, half-shoved him towards the chair beside Bextra. “Sit!” He turned to Mantodea. She smiled at him and took in a deep breath. And she arched her back slightly. Her middle button seemed ready to launch itself to the moon.
Drimblerod’s eyes shifted down. BUH!! His brain began packing its bags.
Mantodea quickly scooted by the incapacitated Gnome and slid onto the bench.
Drimblerod blinked when he realized the Gnomess wasn’t in front of him anymore. He turned and sat beside her, across from Bextra. “There, isn’t that cozy? Boy, girl. Girl, boy.”
“I suppose so,” said Nulu. “So, a standard breakfast coming right up.” She turned to leave then stopped herself. “Oh, everyone at the table meat eaters?”
Bextra leveled her eyes at Drimblerod. “I am,” she said in a suddenly husky voice.
Drimblerod’s brain finished packing and headed towards Cool Springs.
“Well that’s good. It should all be ready; I’ll just get your waitress out here with it all.”
“Could I get a tea?” Mantodea asked.
Nulu nodded, “Sure. Any preference?”
“Do you have Elfjeeling?”
“That I do. Coming right up.”
“Have some coffee, ladies,” said Grimbledung as he pushed the cups and saucers to each person roughly. He figured Nulu already knew he ate anything and everything. “Coffee?” He offered the carafe to Mantodea.
She stared at him. “I just ordered tea.”
“Want coffee until it gets here?” He sloshed the contents of the carafe around. “Get it while it’s hot!”
Drimblerod snatched the carafe from his partner’s hand. “Will you give me that! Land sakes.” He held it towards Bextra. “Coffee?”
“Please” she giggled. “Breakfast and a show?”
“More often than not,” admitted Drimblerod. He poured her coffee. “Leave room for cream? Honey?”
“No thank you, dear.” She smiled hungrily at him.
Drimblerod received a mental postcard from the Rolling Foothills:
“So a tea drinker, huh?” Grimbledung said as he picked up his cup. “Where’d you pick that strange habit up?”
“I think I started drinking tea while living in Australis about a century ago.”
“Australis you say?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Sure!” Grimbledung waggled his ears. “Drimblerod is always pestering me about going out there! He says they speak Common and all.”
Mantodea looked at Drimblerod, “Really?”
Drimblerod gulped his coffee, scalding his throat. “Sure? I’ve always enjoyed the ocean.” He offered blindly.
“Well, that would be a fun trip” Mantodea glanced at her friend, “A really fun trip”.
Bextra nodded. “Sailing always makes me happy. Out there on the trackless seas.” Far away from witnesses.
“Well, that’s a long way out. There and back,” said Drimblerod. “It’d take a two weeks just to get there. And then back, not counting the time on the island.” He put his coffee down. “That’s a lot of time away from the shoppe.”
“Don’t you have employees?” Her inquiries indicated the shop had several.
“Well, sure we do,” said Grimbledung defensively, “what kind of operation you think we’re running? But we just can’t leave a rodent in charge.”
“Or the dummy,” offered Drimblerod.
“What?” Said both of the females at the same time.
“You’ve got rats?” Asked Mantodea.
“In the shop?” added Bextra.
“No, of course not,” said Grimbledung. “What kind of operation you think we’re running?”
“But you said...”
“We have just one rat, Mantodea. And he’s more family than anything else,” explained Drimblerod.
“I see,” she said, unconvinced.
“You two should come by the shop and get a tour,” suggested Grimbledung. “Right?”
“Sure”. Drimblerod leaned back as the waitress slipped the leading edge of her large tray onto the table. She carefully began to take items off it.
“Let me give you a hand,” said Grimbledung as he started to slide plates off the tray. The waitress pulled her hand back as Grimbledung practically scraped all the plates onto the table. “How’s that?”
“Brutishly effective?” The waitress tried.
“Thanks!”
“Need more coffee?”
“Sure!” He winked at Mantodea. “And a carafe of hot water and some tea for the lady in yon chair, if you please.”
“Elfjeeling?” Confirmed the waitress.
Mantodea nodded then quickly leaned back as Grimbledung slid a plate at her. The fact that it hit her in the stomach kept it from falling to the floor. “And the player gets an ace. Since it’s a Moonsday, it’s worth double.”
Grimbledung did a double take. “You play Trufflidge?”
“Sure,” she said. “Pretty good at bluffing too.”
“Really?”
She shook her head at Grimbledung with a serious look, “No, not at all, really.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” tut-tutted Grimbledung. “You really need to be able to bluff to make any headway in Trufflidge.”
She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak when Drimblerod cut her off: “No, just leave it at that. It’ll make it that much more entertaining later.”
“Eggs? Pancakes?” Grimbledung flourished a fork.
“How about we all serve ourselves?” Suggested Bextra. “This is a new dress and all.”
Grimbledung jabbed his fork into the stack of pancakes. He pulled two of them to his plate. “Sounds good. It’s an every wee-folk-for-themselves breakfast.”
“No, we are not having one of those,” warned Drimblerod. “No, no, and no.”
Mantodea raised an eyebrow at him.
“If you don’t trust me on anything else at this table, you need to on this.”
Mantodea nodded. “I’ll help myself then”. She took a pancake and some of the sausage links.
Bextra followed suit, adding some scrambled eggs to her plate as well. She then poured syru
p over her entire plate.
“Like syrup?” Drimblerod chuckled.
“Everything else is just a means to get syrup in me.” She leveled a stare at him that would broil the heart of a Red Dragon. “Everything.”
Drimblerod’s brain bought a nice corner lot in Cool Springs and planted a garden. “Buh?”
Bextra smiled as she ate some of the pancakes. “Just how I like them.”
“The pancakes?” Grimbledung asked.
“Sure.”
“Hey, wanna see something I learned in school?”
“You went to school?” Drimblerod raised an eyebrow at his partner. “When?”
“I went. I went.” He assured his partner. “Wanna see?”
“Sure?” Tried Mantodea.
Grimbledung stuck his knife into a pancake and forced the entire thing into his mouth, using the knife to push an uncooperative portion. “Pancakfmmm!” He waggled his ears.
Mantodea laughed out loud. “They didn’t teach that in my school. Most impressive.”
“Do not encourage him,” warned Drimblerod. “It only gets worse if you encourage him.”
“I see.” She peered at Drimblerod since Grimbledung’s mouth was completely full. “So what school teaches those eating techniques?”
“Well, it was more like Grim and I were eating at Big Julies School of Magic, and that’s how he ended up eating.” He thought back. “At least until that Halfling Corporal showed up and was upset because Grim pushed around his kid.”
“Oh?”
“And he thought Grim had killed his friend’s true love.”
“Oh?”
“Then we were running for our lives.” He cut a piece of pancake. “As usual.”
“So you two lead exciting lives? Lots of risks? Potential death around every corner?”
“Much more than I’m happy with,” admitted Drimblerod.
“Interesting,” Mantodea said. Ominously.
“Say, you know why they call pancakes the musical fruit?”
“They do not call them the musical fruit. They. Do. Not.”
Grimbledung frowned at his partner. “Well, that’s just what I heard.” He smiled. An actual point of conversation came to mind. “So what is it that you gals do, do?” Nice!
The two exchanged glances. “We are traders of sorts,” said Bextra, “we acquire and then sell commodities.”
“Like fruits and grains? Gold or gems? Elf Toes or Pickled Pixies?”
“No, Grimbledung, more like businesses.” Bextra interrupted as before the Gnome’s choices got even more unappetizing.
“Why would someone sell a perfectly good business?”
“Well it all depends. Some folks are looking for a change of pace. Some need money right away.”
“So there’s a living in that?” Grimbledung put down his fork. I could do that!
“Sure, somewhat,” said Mantodea with a warning glance at her very new partner. “But let’s not talk about work over breakfast.” She smiled and leaned forward so that her breasts rested on the table. “How’s the wand shop endeavor working?”
Grimbledung fought to bring his eyes back to hers. “Great!” he said. “Once we combined our two shops, things have really picked up for us.”
“So double the inventory of a regular shop?”
Double! Thought Grimbledung. He was no longer looking at Mantodea’s eyes.
Drimblerod nodded. “Well, to start with, but we’re always in the market for new wands, so we’re always adding to our inventory as we sell things.”
Grimbledung nodded as he put half a pancake in his mouth.
Bextra used her last remaining piece of sausage to sop up the syrup on her plate. “So when do you think we could get a tour of this wonderfully stocked shop of yours?”
Everyone else was done eating. Except Grimbledung.
“How does later on this week sound?” Drimblerod was hoping to use the extra time to tidy up the place. Having customers see the mess was one thing; a busy-looking business gave the feel of success- some place you should also spend your coins or trust your wand to be repaired properly. But, according to Mon, females preferred a tidy atmosphere.
Bextra and Mantodea exchanged glances. Mantodea nodded. “That works for us. So what time of the...”
“Evening time!” Interjected Grimbledung. “Right before dinner so we can all discuss what we all saw over food. I’m looking forward to a tour myself.” And evening time is canoodling time, you sneaky Gnome! “Exactly my thinking!”
“That works for us then.” Mantodea smiled and took a deep breath. To ensure the invitation would be sooner instead of later. “When?”
“Two!” Said Drimblerod. “T...two days from now?”
Mantodea leaned back in her chair. “That sounds fun. So we’ll come by the shoppe. How about six.”
“WHAT?!”
“She said six, Grim,” said Drimblerod.
“Rolton Chips, you sure?”
“Yes,” assured Drimblerod.
“In the evening, right?” Grimbledung said worriedly. “I’d rather not be up that early in the morning because that early, the sun isn’t up yet and it’s never a good thing to wake up before the sunrise because I think it annoys the sun and you end up having a bad day and you’re tired a lot but when you try and take a nap later on, it never seems to work out so you...”
“Evening,” assured Drimblerod. “Before dinner.”
Bextra smiled at Drimblerod. “Well, that sounds like a date then.”
“Yes,” agreed Mantodea.
There was a short pause until Drimblerod remembered another piece of advice he had received from the Mimes. He stood up. “Well then, we will see you in two days’ time at six in the evening.” He shot a glance at Grimbledung. He had the other half of his pancake in his mouth.
“Sixhuffm?” He said around it.
The females stood as well. Only Grimbledung remained seated. “Then it’s settled then,” said Mantodea. She moved to the head of the table, followed by her partner. While they had their backs to the Gnomes, Drimblerod threw his napkin at his partner.
Grimbledung stood up and moved around the table as well. “Great, great,” he mumbled. He looked back at the food still on the table. “So we’re leaving then?”
“Well, we’ve got some business to tend to, Grimbledung. But rest assured, we’ll be by in a couple of days,” Mantodea smiled as she extended her hand to Grimbledung.
Grimbledung took Mantodea’s hand and shook it. “It’s a deal. Say, you know what also might work...”
Mantodea pulled the Gnome closer, purposely pressing her chest against his, and kissed him on the cheek. “See you then,” she said.
While Mantodea was sealing the deal with Grimbledung, Bextra also extended her hand.
Taking yet another pointer from the Mimes, Drimblerod kissed it. “That was a nice breakfast.” I really need to do something for those Mimes!
Bextra smiled at Drimblerod as she stepped close to him and gave him a hug. “Maybe we can have a more private meal later on. Just the two of us” She whispered in his ear. Then, just for fun, she added: “I’ll bring the syrup.”
Butterflies burst into existence in Drimblerod’s stomach. Among other places. “Sure thing!”
Bextra pulled back just enough so they were face to face. “Just the two of us would be nice, I think.”
At that point, Drimblerod was prepared to pitch Grimbledung into the Nearly Green Bog with a wagon tied to his neck if need-be, to get some private time with the Dwarfess. “Ab-so-lutely.”
As if rehearsed, the two females extricated themselves from the Gnomes’ grasp and sashayed toward the curtain. When they got there, Bextra flashed a smile, showing off her dimples yet again, and Mantodea took another deep breath. Just showing off. Without any more female-antics, the two ducked under the curtain and left.
Drimblerod staggered back and sat roughly at the closest chair at the table. Grimbledung returned to his own chair.
&
nbsp; “Wow,” said Drimblerod, finally. “You know how to pick them, Grim.”
Grimbledung nodded. He already had two sausage links in his mouth.
As soon as the curtain stopped swaying, Nulu moved to the table. She flopped down into one of the chairs. It squeaked in protest. “Well?”
“That was a mighty fine breakfast, Nulu,” Grimbledung offered.
Nulu slapped Grimbledung’s ear. “No! Not ‘well how was breakfast’ you daft Gnome; ‘well how did the breakfast with those two Dwarfesses go?’”
“Well, they left of their own accord, after the meal was done, so that’s a success,” offered Drimblerod.
“I showed them how I could fit an entire pancake in my mouth. So that’s a success, right?”
Nulu glowered at Grimbledung. He ducked his head down and returned to finishing the food on this plate.
“I think overall it was a great first meeting.”
“Just a first meeting?” Nulu raised an eyebrow at Drimblerod. “So that means there’s a second, yes?”
Drimblerod nodded. “They’re coming by the shoppe in a couple of days to get a tour.”
“Oh,” Nulu said, let down.
“Well, it’s around dinner time, so we’ll get a bite after that.”
“Oh!” Nulu smiled. “That’s good to hear.”
Drimblerod looked conspiratorially around, “And Bextra said she wanted to get together for a private meal,” he said in a hushed voice, “just the two of us”.
“Oh!” Said Nulu as her eyebrows got a workout. “You sly Gnome, you.”
“Grimbledung looked up from his plate. “Mantodea said she wanted some alone time as well.” He pointed where Mantodea had sat earlier and then at himself. “I’m not sure if she meant just her... or wait; the two of us?” He then waggled his finger at Nulu. “What’ve you gotten us into, Nulu?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, steady girls take work.” Grimbledung exhaled. “They expect you to pay attention to them, show up for things, meet family members.” He gaped. “You end up spending all your time with them.”
“Yeah. That’s pretty much the definition of a relationship, Grim.”
A New Hope (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 4) Page 7
