"Muffin Talk"
Featuring Sebastian and Derek from Art History.
Beverly poured herself another cup of coffee and went back to working on her menu. Shaw Manor had been hosting quite a few fund raisers for the new arts center and she was going to have to admit she needed help. She shuddered at the thought of having strangers prance around her kitchen, but, maybe she could tolerate just one person underfoot. Something like an apprentice, she thought.
A loud sigh came from the other end of the counter and she glanced at the cause. She'd expected, like usual, to have her morning to herself. Sebastian liked to sleep in most days and Manny and his crew started so early that they were at the south end of the property, well out of earshot. The fully grown man at the end of the counter cradled his own cup of coffee and looked dreamily at a half-eaten, poppy-seed muffin.
“What's the matter, Bri…sorry, Derek?”
Derek rolled his head to the side to look at her. His face was both flush and miserable. “Ah, stuff. But, this muffin is delicious. What time did you say he usually gets up?”
Beverly smirked and shook her head. She was too busy to deal with this lovesick fool and she could tell he was only half listening anyway. “He's usually down by 10. You can go up and—”
“No. That's okay.” He tore off another piece of the muffin and frowned. “I think it's best to stay here for now.” Taken aback that anyone would frown in front of her baked goods, Beverly decided to go on the offensive. Perhaps, with enough encouragement, she could get her kitchen to herself again.
“Is there something on your mind?” she asked. Last week when the two of them explained themselves to the manor's staff—none of whom were surprised—she caught an uneasiness around Derek. He seemed to keep himself at a distance with her and the rest, as if he was imposing. He moved about the house as if at any moment it would scoop him out and toss him into the street. This morning, Derek came to the kitchen door instead of the main entrance. Beverly thought he didn't feel like he belonged.
She wondered about that, since Sebastian's explanation meant there were probably two masters of the house now, though she wouldn't really answer to either one. Both of them had their heads so into the college and each other, that they couldn't run a doghouse if they tried. She watched the man pick at his muffin and saw the inner boy's torment.
“Well,” he said, “not really. I mean, it's just.” That long sigh again and Beverly nearly broke her pencil in two. Fifteen people were going to be closing in on this house in a few days and she had to make arrangements for four of them to stay overnight. If she didn't get this darn menu done this morning, she'd have to resort to the college's catering department, and, well, she may as well retire first.
“Spit it out, son,” Beverly said, probably more harshly than she meant.
Derek knocked his forehead against the counter-top. “It's none of my business and, to be honest, you probably don't know anyway.”
She placed the pencil gently on her notepad, folded her hands together, and leaned forward. “Young Derek. Are you going to sit there eating the product of my labor and accuse me of not knowing what goes on in this house?”
It took a moment, but Derek realized his mistake. He blushed. He took her point and another muffin.
“Just, Seb and I aren't all that young and we've been apart for a w-w-while—?” He stuttered and paused.
Ah, Beverly thought, I get it now. Out with it, kiddo.
“I was just wondering, if,” he took a deep breath and spit out the rest as fast as possible. “Iftherewaseveranyone…else?”
Derek glanced up at Beverly from under furrowed brows. The face looked angry but the eyes were definitely worried.
Beverly turned the beginning of a laugh into a cough. This kid, she thought, I don't care how old he is now, he is a kid. She looked down at her notepad and stared at the word “scallions.” How was she going to answer this?
“Well,” she said slowly. “It's not my story to tell, Derek.”
He frowned. “I know, but, well. I know.”
Beverly wanted to ease up on him, but she really needed to get her work done. “What about you? Are you ready to list out all of your previous romantic encounters?”
Derek's eyes widened and he sat up straight. “That's different,” he said defiantly.
“Why?” Beverly asked, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Why is it different?”
The man shrunk under her glare. He bent back down toward the counter and whispered to his muffin: “it just is. None of them mattered.”
“Who didn't matter?” Sebastian yawned as he entered the kitchen and headed for the coffee mugs. His hair stood up in all directions at the back of his head and he scratched at the stubble on his face. He poured himself a cup of coffee and turned around, leaning against the sink.
“Who?” he said. “What did I interrupt?”
Beverly said nothing but looked pointedly at Derek, but Derek didn't notice, he only had eyes for Sebastian. She sighed. Now she had two idiots that needed to be removed from her kitchen. She took a sip of her own coffee. It had gone cold.
“Sebastian,” she said, standing up. “Derek has some pointed questions for you. He tried to get me to spill the beans, but you know how tight-lipped I am.” Both men looked at her bald-faced lie and said nothing.
“So, I'm going to ask that you take this conversation out onto the veranda and leave me in peace. Take the muffins with you,” she said to Derek. “It will give Sebastian something to throw at your head.”
Derek slowly stood up and moved around the counter toward Sebastian. “Come on,” he said. “It's a beautiful day. Let's talk outside.”
Sebastian shrugged. “OK, but why are you here anyway?” He followed Derek out, letting the screen door shut behind him.
Beverly took a deep breath, grabbed her pencil, and erased the word “scallions.”
A moment later Derek returned for the muffins.
...