Winding Down the Day
Stephanie
November 12, 2001
Part 2
On the eve of the opening of the Café Q, we had all gathered to help with the last minute preparations. To my surprise, Wufei had accepted the invitation, if curtly, over the phone and agreed to be there. Duo, I was sure would come. Only Heero remained the mystery, as Relena was unsure of his whereabouts, though she promised to pass on the message to him when next they spoke.
The afternoon started low key with a dinner and friendly conversation, mostly among Duo, Catherine and myself, with the occasional bickering between Duo and Wufei over what, or what not, constituted art. Having seen Duo's much publicized art over the television, due to his social activisim and special status as a former Gundam pilot, Wufei was of the opinion that Duo's work was a menace to society rather than art, and told him so over dessert. Duo's philosophic rebuttal on the nature of the aesthetic citing an interesting interpretation of Immanuel Kant, crashed and burned when Wufei cited Confucius and Plato as counter points and then proceeded to tell Duo where he could `stick' his art. It ended when Trowa wisely asked for the check.
As the evening progressed, we turned our attention back to the preparations needed for the next day. We settled on stools at the bar counter of the café and engaged in random small talk before getting to the actual work that needed done.
"They say this is the most haunted city in the world!" Catherine laughed and placed a mug in front of each of us. She was truly enchanted with the city and all its funny little quirks and idiosyncrasies. But the `other worldly' aspect of New Orleans is what fascinated her the most. When the three of us had arrived in the city several months ago to choose the location of the café, she had taken us to all the sites marked on the map as `haunted.' Trowa had encouraged me to only nod and smile."And you know, last night Trowa claims to have seen a ghost himself. Isn't that great? We have our own tourist attraction here!"
Trowa said nothing, but went about his business of making tea for us. We all waited for an explanation from him on the ghost, which never came. It was an old habit of his never to elaborate when anything extraordinary was mentioned of him. I never determined if this was due to some abnormally large streak of humility or just sadistic manipulation. Trowa, for all his quiet subtleties, was a magnificent showman and actor. I sometimes wondered if he used unsettling the rest of us as substitute entertainment when he wasn't with the circus. Whatever the case, we all wanted answers.
"Hot damn!" Duo slapped Trowa on the back and then put his arm around him. Trowa moved away and continued his work. "You've got a real live ghost in this place! You and Cathy should let the tour groups come through. It would certainly beef up the business here." He looked around the place and grimaced. We'll have to do something about the decor here though. . . Needs livened up, Tro. Looks like the ghost still owns the place."
I gave Duo a sharp look and then turned my attention back to Trowa, who still hadn't acknowledged Duo was in the same room. "Did you really see a ghost, Trowa?" I asked.
He turned around and looked at me for a moment, and then to Catherine. "Yes."
Catherine shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "I don't see why you need to be so hush-hush about it. I think it's great! And Duo has a point, it might be good for business."
"Don't forget the part I said about the decor," Duo added. "And I have a few art pieces that would go fabu--"
"Stop trying to pawn your monstrosities off on your friends, Maxwell," Wufei cut him off, "you're shameless."
"What?" Duo's eyes widened. "What the hell are you talking about, I am a respected artist! I'm doing them a favor, buddy!"
Wufei crossed his arms and looked over to me. "There will be little room for the ghost with the rate that ego is inflating."
"Oh, bite m--"
"SO, Trowa," I started before Duo could finish and get into a shouting match with Wufei, "what was the ghost like? I mean, what did it do?"
Wufei gave a sharp `tsk' and shook his head. Trowa stared at him as he did so. "It's just local folklore," he said. "Trowa didn't really see a ghost. There's probably a story that comes with this place."
Trowa cocked his head to the side and continued his gaze on Wufei. "No," he said. "I saw a ghost." He took the tea pot from the stove and began to pour the tea into Wufei's mug. A strong spiced aroma filled the air. Wufei would be the first of Trowa's test tasting victims. It was never a good idea to publically question Trowa.
Wufei sniffed at the liquid in the mug and took a sip. He looked back up at Trowa with a sour face. "What is this?" he asked.
"Chai. It's Indian tea." Trowa said.
"I know what Chai is, Trowa. I'm asking you what this is." Wufei pushed the mug across the counter toward Trowa.
"Hn." Trowa picked up the mug and sniffed it. "What's wrong with it?"
"Try going to the French market for your spices and not down the local super market isle," Wufei chided him. "I would think you'd know better than that."
"I told you, Trowa!" Catherine laughed. "You never listen to me."
"I did." Trowa took the tea and spilled it down the drain. "There aren't any eastern spices at the market, just the hot ones from the Americas.""Hello?" Duo clinked his spoon against the mug in irritation. "Can we set aside tea time for a moment and finish the ghost story?"
"I'm kind of interested in hearing the rest of this too." I admitted.
"I told you," Trowa blinked as though he was amazed we hadn't heard him the first time. "I saw a ghost."
"Well, yeah, Tro, but give the details here!"Duo insisted.
"It was male. It walked around my bookcase." Trowa shrugged.
"And. . .?"
"That's it."
"He didn't say `hi', or tell you how you must avenge his wrongful death, or grab a book? Nothing else?" Duo pressed harder, squinting his eyes and leaning closer to Trowa.
Trowa shook his head. "No." Then he thought for a moment. "It just walked into the wall and vanished."
"Freaky!" At that point, Duo would take anything to make the story more exciting. It was important to Duo that all stories contained at least one element to make them worth listening to, before he embellished on them himself. He would always press until he got something and Trowa was always a challenge for him. Ironically, Trowa had far more patience with Duo than Duo had with him."You know, I think we should try to communicate with it and find out why he's here."
"No, Duo," Trowa flatly stated.
"What?"
"We're not holding a seance, Duo."
"You know, Trowa, you were almost fun for a moment there. Almost. . ."
Trowa gave him a cursory glance before turning back to the stove to put on another kettle of tea.
"You know," Duo looked at me as though wounded by Trowa's dismissal, "I don't think I've ever met a person that can so thoroughly tell a person to `fuck off' without out ever uttering a single word."
"Do you say that to all the terrorists you meet?"
We all turned our attention to the door, stunned by the familiar low monotone voice attached to a figure leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. Heero Yuy. None of us had seen him in over four years.
Duo's mouth hung open in shock, but he quickly recovered by some innate need to always display the facade of a cool exterior. "Nah. Your silences were more boring, like `get out of my way' or, `I'm going to use you for all the spare parts I can muster and then toss you over my shoulder like a used detonator.' Trowa's silences are far more colorful and condescending. `Fuck you,' `dipshit,' and my personal favorite, `tell me, did you slither out from the shallow end of the gene pool or is that mold on your brain being used for antibiotics?' See the difference? He's giving me that last one now, it's all in the eyes. Take a good look."
Trowa shifted his glace from Duo to Heero and slightly bowed his head to him. "Heero." It was all he said. Not hello, or glad to see you again, only Heero's name before he returned to his work.
After the initial surprise impact, I stood and walked over to Heero and extended my hand, which he took. "It's been a long time Heero," I said and smiled at him. "It's good to see you. I was hoping Relena would find you and give you the message."
Heero nodded. "Hai. She did." He stared at me for a moment, and there was a softer look in his eyes than I remembered from the war. He seemed as if he hadn't a care in the world and he was just stopping by to catch up on old times. He was, I guess, and though it seemed strange it felt good.
"Good," I said. I put my arm around him, a gesture I would have never considered doing during the wars, but it seemed right now. "Why don't you have a seat, Trowa's making tea for us. Chai, wasn't it?" I asked Trowa.
"I poured it down the drain," Trowa bluntly said. "Darjeeling." He set a mug in front of Heero and turned back to me. "I thought it would be more to your taste, Quatre."
"Do you have any coffee?" Heero asked.
Trowa blinked. "It's a café." And I have to admit that Duo was right. You could have easily tagged one of Duo's colorful phrased to Trowa's words with the look he was giving Heero. He was so good at it, one wondered if he practiced at it, or acquired it after a lifetime of being disappointed with the human race.
"I'd like coffee then," Heero said to our astonishment. I had thought he viewed coffee as a narcotic to be avoided. Trowa was the only one of us that lived on it. "I've developed a taste for it while working long nights in the Security department," he explained
"So that's what you've been up to!" Duo interrupted. "Can you tell us anything you've done, or would you have to kill us later?"
"Yes."
"Cool, so what's the scoop?"
"I meant yes I would have to kill you." I think I saw something like a smirk on Heero's face and later asked Duo if that was what he saw. He said he had definitely witnessed something that resembled humor as well, and we both reflected on that for a while. The years of peace time had truly been good for Heero.
"Bastard." Duo gave up in defeat, or perhaps it was just an attempt to seem disinterested.
"What have I missed?" Heero asked.
"In the past four years, or just tonight?" Duo drummed his fingers on the counter.
"Just tonight."
Wufei set down a little pamphlet guide to New Orleans that he picked up on a rack as he entered the café and turned to face Heero for the first time that evening. "Earlier, to jump start our first day in this den of sin, we sat through an amazingly long winded speech given by Quatre on the value of friendship, Duo has threatened to fill the café with objects he insists on calling art, Trowa nearly poisoned us all with some concoction he claimed was Indian tea, Catherine announced that the café was haunted and Trowa admitted to seeing ghosts."
"Just one." Trowa dropped the tea bag into Wufei's mug and poured the hot water over it.
"Sorry, Trowa," Wufei apologized with a nod and turned back to Heero. "A ghost. That's about it."
"Sounds like I missed quite a bit." Heero stared into his empty mug and looked back up to Trowa in anticipation. Trowa ignored him and went over to Catherine to tell her something in private.
"Not really." Wufei picked his pamphlet back up and pretended to be disgusted by the tourist attractions.
"Well, now that the ole ball n'chain has let you out of the basement, you gonna stay among the living, Mr. Yuy?" Duo set his elbows between Wufei's and Heero's shoulders and leaned his head in, "Hmmm?"
"Relena and I are not. . . together." Heero was quick to correct.
"Oh, now, come on, Heero this is me you're--" Duo was abruptly cut off from speaking when he quite suddenly hit the floor. None of us actually saw what happened, but the culprit was obvious.
"I don't remember permitting you to touch me, Maxwell." Wufei leered down at Duo, who only laughed back.
"Still the curmudgeon, Wufei. . ." Duo shook his head in admonishment. "What you need is tamed. . . or laid. Why don't you settle down and start a family. Hell, start a few!"
"You sell a few paintings and you think you're Picasso." Wufei picked himself up from his stool and relocated next to me.
"I was thinking. . ." Heero started. "Maybe we can go out tonight. . . have a drink." He seemed uncomfortable with his words, as though unsure of how to casually ask a group of friends out.
Trowa stopped in front of him with a pot of coffee and poured it in his mug. "We have drinks here," he stated curtly.
"I was thinking more of. . . adult beverages, Trowa." Heero stared up at him and for the first time that evening their eyes met, if only briefly.
"Heero, it's called liquor, booze, alcohol--" Duo began to ridicule Heero's word choice, when both Wufei and I shot him glares.
Trowa shook his head. "No. We're opening tomorrow, there is too much work to be done." He turned toward the rest of us. "If the rest of you would rather go, don't stay behind on my account."
"Damn," Duo sighed, "I never thought I'd turn down a free drink from Heero Yuy, but I promised to help tonight."
"Forget it." Heero said. "What needs done. I'd like to help." He took a sip of his coffee and set it back down dismissively.
"What's wrong with it." Trowa backed up and looked down at the mug.
"Nothing, Trowa. It's good coffee," Heero said.
Trowa narrowed his eyes on Heero, obviously not believing his words.
"It's just that. . ." Heero hesitated a moment and picked up the mug, tasting it contents again as if re-evaluating it. I swear in that moment I saw the same little smirk when he told Duo he would have to kill him. "Your coffee is usually stronger."
Trowa continued to eye him for a moment and then nodded a little. "That is my personal coffee. This," he said, swiftly taking the mug from Heero's hand, "is for the customers." With that he poured the coffee down the drain, following Wufei's chai from earlier. "You want to help?" Trowa asked with a tone of menace in his voice.
"Yes," Heero nodded, clearly up to whatever challenge Trowa would throw his way.
The rest of us remained quiet, stunned and engrossed by the animosity that seemed to be coming from Trowa. The two always seemed to be good friends, it was hard to imagine them upset with each other.
"There are some. . . cookies. . . that need baked tonight. You can do that." Trowa threw down the gauntlet and waited silently for Heero's answer.
"What kind," he merely asked.
"Raspberry tart," Trowa replied.
Duo gasped.
"Oh, Trowa," Catherine laughed, "Heero doesn't have to do that, I was going to--"
"You'll be baking all night, Cathy," Trowa reminded her. "Heero can make the tarts. He wants to help." He paused for a moment and looked back at Heero. "He said he did."
Heero nodded. "I will make the cookies."
Trowa nodded and turned back toward the kitchen. "I'll make new coffee," he said, and vanished behind the door.
"Oh, I wouldn't drink that, Heero!" Duo warned. "He's got something fierce against you, man! What the hell did you do to piss him off?"
Heero said nothing to Duo but turned to Wufei and me. "Are you going to help tonight?"
"Yes," I nodded. "Wufei and I were going to help set up this room. Polish the furniture and all the woodwork, that sort of thing. Duo and Trowa are going to take care of the courtyard."
He nodded again. "Catherine. Do you have a recipe and baking supplies?"
"Um. . . yeah," she said in a manner that was frighteningly like Trowa. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked him again. "You really don't have to. I'm sure Quatre and Wufei could find work for you out here."
"Baking will be fine," he said. "I'll come out and help them when I am done."
"Well, okay. But these are kind of tricky, just let me know if you need help."
Heero nodded and followed her into the kitchen.
Heero was wired.
He had been up all night baking cookies and fixing last minute odds and ends that needed fixing in the café. He said he couldn't sleep, so it would be better to keep busy and make sure everything would run smoothly for the opening of the Café Q. Multitasking was the key, he said. He ran around the café at light speeds, wiping up spills here or dusting a speck of dust there, all while checking on the food. He made sure to stir the soups at least every five minutes and check the oven to make sure the bread wasn't burnt on the bottom. He was certainly more worried over it than Trowa or Catherine seemed. If anything needed their attention, they would simply complete their task in a careful and efficient manner. There were no rushed movements as they went about their work, only the calm grace that made both of them excellent as performers. Heero, in contrast, was out of control.
Wufei blamed Trowa, whom he claimed had kept Heero going the night before on his special blend of coffee. The coffee consisted of a super concentrate of espresso beans, which rivaled a neutron star in density, poured into a large mug. And that was it. It always smelled to me like geraniums, and seemed to have a kick like plutonium to whoever dare drink it. Except Trowa, who used it only as a means to jump start his day. Having it in the morning meant Trowa might bother to talk that day. For Heero, it meant he might dig a tunnel through the center of the earth to India for a direct link that would supply the café with the spices needed to make a decent chai.
The rest of us kept out of Heero's way.
The morning was slow, only a few customers here and there. I had begun to worry that not many would show. Catherine and Trowa had worked so hard getting everything ready, I didn't want the business to fail and send them back to the circus to work.
Duo used the early morning to bring in some of his art work. He brough what he called his "Doll" collection. They portrayed what appeared to be Qupie dolls at various levels of decrepitation, all going about the tasks of daily living. It wasn't bad. Certainly not as bad as Wufei would have us all believe. It was just odd. And odd, so long as it wasn't devoid of all merit, was always a plus in the art world. That Duo was a former Gundam pilot certainly helped sales. When word got out that the Café Q hosted Duo Maxwell originals, people were sure to come to the café. Or so that was the hope.
In the middle of all Duo's work, Trowa hung a print of Degas' famous "Melancholia" that he took from his apartment above the café. It didn't seem to fit with the rest of Duo's work, and since it was the only print hanging in the café, it looked like a fish out of water on the wall. He hung it next to Duo's most controversial piece of an armless Qupie doll with it's head caved in performing the act of oral sex on another headless doll. Wufei said the woman in the Degas print was depressed over having to be displayed along with Duo's work, which kicked off another round of arguments. Trowa ignored them and went about his business.
Then around noon something happened. The Vice Foreign Minister, Relena Dorlian, along with Dorothy Catalonia and what seemed to be the entire World Nations Senate, walked through the doors. To break for lunch, she said. The Senate had been meeting in New York.
Trowa and Catherine greeted and seated them all, as though such things were normal and they waited on diplomats as a matter of course. They served them soups, salads and sandwiches made with croissants and other various freshly baked breads. They made them specialty iced coffees and teas, and served them with little cakes and cookies.
But it was the raspberry tarts that really went over well. Relena had proclaimed them her favorite and had politely asked Catherine for the recipe, if it wasn't a family secret, which Catherine informed her that it wasn't and would gladly give it to her for no charge.
Dorothy Catalonia, who was seated next to Relena, ignored the chatter and occasionally looked over to me with a hint of mischief in her eyes. Her tolerance for small talk, one could tell, was wearing thin. She picked up one of the raspberry tarts and turned it around as though marveling at the design. They were in the shapes of hearts. One layer of the cookie was coated with raspberry preserves, while the top layer cookie had the center cut out in the shape of a heart, so that the raspberry showed through. The top of the cookie was covered in pink icing with little red and white sprinkles on top.
"Tell me, Miss Bloom," she said sweetly. "Did you do all this work yourself?"
"Why no, actually," Catherine told her. "I had quite a bit of help in the kitchen."
"I see," Dorothy said. "Can you tell us who made these delicious cookies?" she said as she took a bite from one. She had been waiting, no doubt, to hear that I or Trowa had made the cookies. Perhaps to deliver us a minor embarrassment. She was clearly unprepared for the answer.
"I made them." The voice of Heero Yuy came through the kitchen door, followed immediate by him. He was carrying a tray of lemon poppy seed muffins and white chocolate chip macadamia cookies.
Dorothy's eyes widened and her lips curled up in a large smile, clearly delighted by the turn of events. "My, my, Heero Yuy. You are certainly a man of many talents!"
"I'm glad you like them," he said unfazed, and went about serving the muffins and cookies to the guest.
Trowa looked on from behind the counter and smiled.
