"Thank you for allowing me to watch you cook tonight's dinner Niffty." Charlie said.
"Oh no, thank you for choosing me to be your teacher." Niffty replied with a smile. "You know Alastor is the only other person here who takes an interest in my cooking. Of course everyone appreciates my hard work and the good taste that my food brings but no one else really tries to learn how I cook my meals."
"I always wanted to learn to cook."
"Didn't you ever cook with your mother?"
"No. My mother wasn't the cooking type and neither was my father."
"A woman who doesn't cook? I've never heard of such a thing. My mother insisted I learn how to cook as soon as possible. How to cook, clean, and sew. I proved to be a natural at all three."
"So what's on the menu tonight?"
"Crawfish, collard greens, cornbread, and for dessert Dutch apple beignets."
"That sounds mouth-watering. But doens't Alastor dislike sweet things?"
"Yes he does but you and your friends like them, don't you?"
"We do."
"Good. I just love to bake but with Alastor not caring for sweets and Rosie always trying to watch her figure, it's very rare that I get the opportunity to bake. Now let's see if I have everything."
She looked over her ingredients.
"Crawfish, garlic, lemons, corn on the cob, butter, collared greens, olive oil, hamhock, flour, cornmeal, tabasco, salt, pepper, eggs, apples, honey, sugar, powedered sugar, milk, oh! Where's the cinnamon? I must have left it in the cupboard. Mimzy, could you bring me a step ladder?"
Mimzy came in with the step ladder. Niffty climbed on to it, opened the cupboard, and reached for the top part where the spices. The cinnamon had been pushed to the far back.
"I've told Husk a hundred times to stop putting the spices on the top shelf." She said reaching for the cinnamon. "He knows I'm height challenged, why he refuses to listen is a complete mystery to- Oh!"
As she was leaning over to reach better, she lost her footing and fell over while also knocking over some plates that shatter on the floor.
"Oh my gosh!" Charlie gasped. "Niffty are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"
"Niffty you clumsy little fool!" Mimzy berated harshly. "Those dishes were expensive and now there's a huge mess! I swear, sometimes I wonder why Alastor still keeps you around. You're completely useless!"
"How dare you speak to her that way!" Charlie defended. "It was only an accident!"
Mimzy whipped around quickly and looked at Charlie. Shock and distaste could be seen in her eyes over what Charlie had said to her. Soon the shock faded but the distaste remained.
"Accident or not, she's always breaking things." Mimzy continued. "Expensive things."
"It's true." Niffty admitted shamefully. "Nearly every accident in this house is my fault. It is a wonder why I haven't been discharged."
"Still that's no excuse to talk to someone like that." Charlie said to Mimzy. "What's wrong with you?"
Charlie knelt down and started to check Niffty for any cuts and brusies. Mimzy only scoffed silently and walked away without notice.
"Miss Charlie, I thank you for your concern but it's nothing really." Niffty said. "The dishes suffered more damage."
"Does she always talk to you like that?"
"I'm afraid so. She speaks to other servants the same way. Except for Mr. Pentious but that's only because he's higher up."
"Why does she act so mean?"
"Mimzy started out in a very low place. Second only to where Husk and myself came from. She thought that she was nothing to no one. So when Alastor, a rich and handsome young man took her in, she thought herself to be very special. Too special."
"How do you mean?"
"Well it's not for me to say." Niffty stood. "I'm going to go get the broom and clean up this mess."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"No dear, I wouldn't want you to cut yourself on the broken china. Just sit down, I'll be alright."
Charlie sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and waited for Niffty to return. Someone to enter the kitchen almost as soon as she was gone but it wasn't Niffty. It was Alastor.
"Golly what happened in here?" He asked taking note of the broken plates. "I heard a loud noise and went to investigate. Is everything alright?"
"Oh it's nothing to worry about." Charlie said. "Niffty just had a little accident with the dishes."
"Did she hurt herself?"
"No."
"What about you? You didn't step on any shards did you?"
"No."
"Well that's a relief."
"Poor Niffty feels awful about breaking the plates though."
"Oh I've told her a hundred times not to get so upset over breaking a few dishes. I have countless more in the attic and if we run out, I can always afford to buy replacements. All that matters is no one was hurt."
Charlie was relieved that he wouldn't be angry with Niffty like Mimzy was. However she soon felt awkward again as she realized that this was the first time the two of them had been alone since the night they kissed. It took every ounce of her will power to keep herself from blushing in that moment.
"I..." She started. "I want to apologize for Vaggie's behavior yesterday. I hope you can understand that she didn't mean any real harm, she's just very protective of me and she doesn't have much trust in men."
"That's no excuse to be rude and to attempt to assault me." He said. "But for your sake I shall be forgiving and understanding to her. But I hope that you can understand that if anything like that happens again, I'll have to ask her to leave."
"Of course and I certainly wouldn't blame you for it. But thank you for giving Vaggie another chance. I know you don't have a good impression of her now but once you get to know her, you'll see that she's wonderful. You know she was the first person to support my decision to become an author. And whenever my manuscript was rejected, she would always encourage me to try again."
"That does make her very special. Most people don't realize it but finding a true friend is as hard as finding a true love. Maybe even harder." He smiled. "Speaking of special, I do hope you liked my special apology gift."
"The flowers? Oh yes they were beautiful. I love them, but you didn't really have to go all out like that."
"Perhaps it does seem a little unorthodox but it's kind of an old habit. When I was a boy and I'd upset my mother by misbehaving or getting into fights with other boys, I would apologize by bringing her wild flowers that grew in the fields, it would bring such a smile to her face and she would almost always forgive me instantly. I ended up doing that any time I apologized to a woman."
"That's so sweet."
"Lily of the valley was among her favorites and strangely, that field always seemed full of those flowers. My guess it's because that field was once owned by someone who planted them."
"Speaking of favorite flowers, how did you know what my favorites were?"
Alastor smirked.
"Probably the same way you knew that I didn't care for sweets."
"What?"
"When Niffty told you tonight's dessert, you mentioned that I didn't have much of a sweet tooth and I am certain that I never disclosed that bit of information to you."
"Wait a minute, how did you hear that?"
"My dear, I may need glasses but I have the hearing of a mature stag. Almost nothing happens in this house without me hearing about it. Which reminds me, I must reprimand Mimzy for speaking harshly to Niffty. She knows I won't tolerate such things."
Charlie would have questioned Alastor further about his incredible hearing but she found herself more confused by the fact that, she did know about Alastor's dislike of sugary foods yet no one had ever told her that. Just like with that tea. How in the world did she know these things? Could she had overheard it from a conversation that staff was having?
"She was a writer too you know." Alastor said, interuppting Charlie's thoughts.
"I'm sorry." She replied.
"My ancestor's sweetheart. She was also a writer."
"Really?"
"Yes. Her mother was so ill that she remained bed-ridden til death after she gave birth and her father was too obssesed with his work to ever really spend any time with her. She was mostly brought up by servants who would enteratin her with stories and folktales. As she grew older, she started to write them down and became inspired to write her own stories. She wanted so much to become a novelist."
"Did it ever happen?"
"No. Her father said that her dream was a foolish and childish one. That no one would want to buy a book written by a woman. One night my namesake walked in on him cruelly berating her for canceling an arranged meeting with the heir to an oil fortune so she could finish her book. It was one of his many attempts to secure an arranged marriage for her. He was so angry with her over it that he burned her manuscript."
Charlie was horrified by this knowledge. That was one of the most heartless and cruel things anyone could do to a writer.
"How could he do such a thing?" Charlie asked. "My father never really supported my writing dreams but he'd never do that."
"Simple my dear. Your father has a heart." He sighed. "She fell to her knees, bawling and crying. She tried once or twice to save at least a few pages from the flames but she only burned her hand. My ancestor was instantly at her side, with one arm he kept her burned hand in cold water and with his other, he held her and allowed her to cry on his shoulder."
"What did he think of her dream?"
"He supported anything that would bring a smile to her face and put a song in her heart. He told her, he'd help her write new book. One better than the first, and he knew plenty of stories. Stories told to him by his mother when he was a child. That's when they came up a very entertaining idea. They would write down stories from their childhood, a collection of folktales told by slaves and servants. Ones that came from Africa, the Native Americans, Spain, Ireland, stories from different countries and cultures."
"That sounds wonderful. Did they succeed?"
"Yes. In fact the book is upstairs in the attic. Would you like to read it?"
"I would love to."
"I'll fetch it right now."
"Wait, I can't read it now. I'm cooking with Niffty."
"I know. I'll give it to you to read after dinner. Perhaps just before you go to bed."
"I would like that. Maybe I could even learn a few things from their writings. They're bound to be better than my ametuer writing."
Alastor then gently took hold of Charlie's hands and gave her warm smile, looking at her with a warm gleam in his eye.
"You're a magnificent writer Charlotte. Truly gifted, as gifted as my cousin. Don't ever think less of yourself or your talent. And don't ever throw away your passion or your dreams. Those are among the things that give us the want to live."
His words made her feel so incredibly touched and supported. Like how she always felt when Vaggie gave her words of encouragement yet for some reason she felt as if she had been given support from him just as long. Maybe even longer.