My Boyfriend is a Monster (11 page)

BOOK: My Boyfriend is a Monster
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“I am sir,” she said putting her apron on.

From the back Todd yelled out, “Lily - Louis, Louis - Lily.”

“Hello Louis,” she laughed.

“Mam,” he said and tipped his imaginary hat again feeling her genuine kindness through her smile.

“So what can I make you?”

“We love da tea,” he started. “What you got to excite da senses girl?”

“Let’s see,” she said looking at her ingredients behind her. “I have a wonderful strawberry rose champagne and peach tranquility blend.”

“Oh dat sounds nice,” Louis said surprised while imagining the smells and tastes.

“I can do a delicious youth-berry wild orange blossom.”

“Oh you talking dirty now,” he said playfully.

“Or if you like something a little sweeter to go with the fifty pounds of desserts you just bought,” she paused for a moment thinking about it. “How about a wonder-berry chocolate truffle oolong tea or a coco caramel sea salt herbal,” she said deciding on one of those to be the best to accompany the deserts.

Louis didn’t even hear the dessert barb. “Oh girl, don’t stop.”

She laughed. “You’re still excited about the tea . . . right?”

“I know,” he cr
ied out. “Yes da tea. All about da tea,” he finally answered. “Don’t sell yourself short Cher you talk real sexy good with all da talking.”

Snapping her fingers she pointed at him. “How about a watermelon mint chiller white tea?” she asked.

“Sold,” Louis shouted snapping his fingers and pointing back. Since he never heard of a watermelon mint chiller white tea before he was actually getting excited.

“He
re,” she said passing him a large brochure of all the different teas she made.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed
looking at all the different kinds he had never seen or heard of. “Make t’ree of dose watermelon ones and one of da chocolate ones for da road,” he said being a little selfish.

Looking at the boxes piled on the counter she turned back to h
im. “All that food and only four of you?”

Feeling guilty about the extra tea he ordered for himself he decided to come clean. “Actually t’ree
of us . . . so better make da chocolate ones for dem too.” Knowing if Bo got just a whiff of a chocolate tea and he didn’t get him one he would never hear the end of it. “So dese teas are good?” he asked changing the subject.

“Really good,” Lily
assured him as she started to prepare the ingredients for the two different types.

Whistling with enthusiasm he slapped his hands together and rubbed. “Usually I just stick to da earl grey, but dem teas . . . sound too good not ta-try.”

Lilly kept working. “Well, earl grey is so popular because when done right, it is the most distinctively flavored and aromatic of all teas, and when done wrong . . .” She looked up. “Usually still drinkable.”

Thinking about it for a moment he realized his sisters could
not make a pot of tea using store bought bags, but you could still drink it if that’s all there was. “Yeah, dat is true, sort of,” he nodded.

Going into her fridge and returning with unlabeled
Tupperware and a jug of water she continued working on her specialties. “You have to start with cold filtered water,” she said pouring it into a pot. Turning on the burner she waited for it to get red. “We first boil the water, then fill the tea pot up and swish it around to heat. Then we dump that water out and put the remainder of the boiled water in.”

He looked at her curiously. “But you be wasting all dat water.”

Raising her finger his eyes widened curiously. “Watch and learn,” she said and they continued to watch as the burner became red.

 

THREE: Remember the Alamo

 

Back at the book store Nathan held a piece of drywall up against the wall as Bo ran his finger across the smooth surface and found the slightest difference in elevation. Taking a nail with his thumb he pushed it through the drywall and into the stud. Following the stud straight up he pressed nails into the drywall until it was able to stand on its own.

Standing back he nodded his approval and turned to his brother. “So glad your back Nathan,” Bo said.

“Honestly between you and me, I was getting home sick,” he confessed. Slapping Bo on the shoulder he held up another piece of drywall.

Grabbing some more drywall nails Bo began the process all over again. “I don’t know how you do it, I’m already home sick and I’ve
only been gone for a few hours.”

“Sometimes it’s just nice to go away for a while you know?”

“No,” Bo replied without missing a beat. “But I know how upset Mom and Dad get when you go away for a long time.”

“I know Bo,” he said.

Grabbing another handful of nails he continued. “Running off here and running off there, fighting in wars and such.”

Smiling as the memories started vividly popping in his head he tried to remind his brother, “Remember how mad Dad was when you went away?”

Putting the last nail into that particular piece of drywall Bo paused to think. It took him a little longer than most but he began to chuckle and remembered. “Yeah . . . that was fun.”

“I know. Now do you remember how nice it was being on your own?” he asked steering him to his point.

Signaling his brother to grab another piece of drywall Bo waited. Bringing it back Nathan held it in place as he took a nail and placed it in his fingers where the stud was and pushed it through with his thumb then recalled. “But I wasn’t alone. You and Louis were with me.”

“I know, but we were on our own, no Mom, no Dad.”

He smiled. “No Maggie. No Serenity.”

“War probably would have been over sooner if Maggie came with us,” Nathan mused.

“Louis probably would’ve defected to the other side,” Bo added.

“Now that I could see,” he agreed.

Bo stood up straight to attention and shouted to the ceiling in his best German accent. “Tod meiner Schwester,” he said still staring to the ceiling and standing still.

Nathan knew his brother said “Death to my Sister” and laughed.

Bo
started to chuckle. “How many wars we fight in?” he asked trying to separate them in his head. Grabbing another handful of nails he nodded his head towards the drywall sheets.

“Four together,” he replied grabbing another piece. “And Mom and Dad always worried about their fragile little Bo,” he finished teasingly setting it up on the wall.

Bending back down Bo started pushing the nails into the new piece. “I’m just glad Daddy knew enough Generals to have us put in the same units,” he said looking up. “Don’t know if I would have made it without you.” Thinking for a moment as he pushed the last nail in he decided to correct his statement. “Well, wouldn’t been as much fun.”

“Don’t think it was supposed to be fun,” Nathan said knowing at times it was.

“You know what I mean. It’s different when you’re practically indestructible,” he reminded him then looked up. “You can’t tell me we didn’t have some fun?” They both paused. Then Bo recalled. “Remember that tank that chased us through the streets of that French city?”

“City of Brest, in France,” Nathan recalled.

“Yeah, the boobie city,” Bo giggled.

“I remember a lot of tanks chasing us, for weeks.”

“Good times,” Bo said and grinned. “Battle for titties,” he said and giggled some more.

“That’s what Louis called it, it was called -”

“I know, the Battle for Brest.”

Nathan smiled. “Yeah, I guess we did have some fun,” he admitted. “Just sometimes felt sorry for those guys we fought beside . . . and against.”

Bo nodded. “In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and, to the young it comes with bitterest agony, because it takes them unawares.”

“Lincoln,” Nathan remembered. Feeling better just hearing it, he sometimes forgot just how smart his larger than life brother was.

“He was a nice man,” Bo recalled. “Remember those dinners at the Lincoln house?”

“That was the White House Bo, and yes I do. Remember Dad getting mad at us during some of those dinners?”

Shaking his head Bo snickered. “I remember him offering us our pick of his personal treasures if we could catch Louis and bring him to him after some of those dinners.”

“That’s right,” he remembered grabbing another piece. “Thank the Rings that boy was quick.”

This time Bo grabbed the box of nails and walked back with them. “Almost as quick as his mouth,” he said raising his eyebrows.

“True.”

Grabbing a nail out of the box he began the ritual again. “We should go and sign up for another war,” he said feeling nostalgic. “What was the last one . . . Vietnam?”

“We could,” Nathan offered with little enthusiasm. But after a few thoughts he started getting nostalgic as well. “I loved every time we went to basic and seeing the look on everyone’s face when you walked in.”

“I never had a uniform for almost all of training.”

“They didn’t have uniforms anywhere near your size Bo. They had to be specially made.” Enjoying the journey back he continued. “Oh shit, even that Irish sergeant was afraid to yell at you.”

With his best Irish accent he tried recreating the memory complete with hand actions. “He’d be yelling at every one to run f-ing harder, jump f-ing higher, aim f-ing better.”

“Except you - good effort Bo - mighty fine work Bo,” Nathan imitated a less accurate version. “I don’t think I ever heard a racist comment from anyone except Louis.”

Turning to Nathan with a look of Angelic realization he raised his eyebrows. “I actually might have cured them of racism.” Then he smiled slyly.

“Terrified is more like it.”

“Good deed is a good deed, no matter how you look at it” he instituted. They both started to chuckle. “It was fun but, I didn’t like making all those friends.”

“Made a lot of those,” Nathan said letting the memories flow in.

“Lost a lot of those,” he countered. Thinking over the names and the faces Bo grew sad and admitted, “Didn’t like losing them during or after.”

Nathan could see them all as if he just saw them yesterday. In the smaller battles he and his brothers could actually influence the outcome or at least the casualties. But when it came to the larger scrimmages it became to hectic and chaotic. A hundred thousand soldiers converging upon a field with muskets firing, Calvary charging and cannons exploding made it hard to watch their own backs let alone when it evolved to
tanks rolling and planes roaring overhead. But he was proud of what he and his brothers did and was proud of the men they met and fought beside. He wouldn’t change those memories for anything. “That’s the hard thing about making friends that aren’t like us,” he said wishing they were all here now.

Taking a deep breath and sighing Bo continued to put the nails in quietly, respecting the memories of old friends. Finally a more humorous one slipped in and he broke the silence. “Remember when Louis and little Mickey stole the Lieutenants whole shipment of rum, and we went and changed the obstacle course?”

Nathan snorted and lowered his eyes. “The amount of work those men put into making that course easier was a hundred times harder than actually running it.”

“Yeah, but it sure was funny,” Bo said looking at his brother who was already laughing.

 

FOUR: A Masters in Tea

 

Louis sat spell bounded as he listened and watched her prepare the tea. “Now as soon it comes to a boil, remove the kettle. Burning all the oxygen out of the water flattens the flavor,” she said removing the kettle from the burner.

Louis just shook his head with his eyes wide open.

“Now we already took a bit of boiling water and poured it onto the tea leaves to allow them to bloom.”

“To bloom?” he asked.

She nodded. “It allows them to release some of their bitterness,” she said repeating the act. “And then we drain immediately.” She demonstrated by pouring a bit of the boiling water on the leaves.

He just watched in amazement. “Holy Christ, I didn’t know you need da science degree just to make da tea.”

“How do you make your tea?”

“I don’t, I love it . . . don’t make it,” he admitted feeling a bit ashamed.

“I know you said you like honey, but you don’t put anything in these teas,” she said and took the leaves that had now bloomed and put them in the pot. Taking the boiling water she poured it into the pot and let it settle. “Ok, so we let this brew for four to five minutes, no more than that or the tea gets bitter and tastes shitty,” Lily said surprised and covered her mouth. “Excuse my French,” she said a little embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I speak da French and I don’t want da tea to taste shitty.”

Coming out from the back with a box of cupcakes all with newly sprinkled sprinkles he placed them with the other boxes on the counter making forty boxes inside ten to-go boxes of fresh baked goods. “I apologize for the wait,” Todd said looking around the empty store. Wondering why it was slow he realized he had just made almost a whole days’ worth of sales with just this order and decided the slow pace would be nice.

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