53 - Breakfast at the Shack

*A well planned out life is nothing more than a challenge to the universe. – Nessie*
Nessie walked from her little house at the back of the Shack property and headed to the clubhouse. The two-story house had been a compromise between herself and her husband, Knuckles. He wanted a house to raise their children. She didn’t want to leave her kitchen or greenhouse.
Cookie built them a house and made a path between the two that ran by her greenhouse. The house was a compromise in many things. A compromise in location – not far from the Shack but with enough distance to provide the growing family with privacy. A compromise in style – it needed to accommodate Massachusetts winter weather and make Ness feel at home.
In the end, it became what was called it Nessie’s Scottish Witch Country Cottage. Her natural green thumb helped to solidify the style with flowering plants and climbing vines. During the warmer months, she had herbs growing in hanging baskets on her porch.
Currently they were all in the warm greenhouse. As always, she went into the glass building and gathered fresh herbs for the day. Before going inside to cook breakfast, she fed the chickens in the run next to the greenhouse.
The chicken coop and run had been a complete surprise when Toad brought her a box of baby chicks. He just shrugged and said if nothing else, her cats could have chicken nuggets.
Her three black cats were still in bed with her husband. They might be her wee devils, but they were his kids. And they had stayed up with him as he sat up with their sick daughter. She would need to
Grabbing the basket of herbs, she continued to the back door and then her office. As soon as she stepped into the building, she could feel the change. There was a crackle of excitement in the air.
Her ghosts were excited about something. The light of the darkness.
“Is it time?” she asked softly.
There was no answer. She did not expect one. Nessie did not hear her ghosts, at least not in the way people thought she should. She got flashes of shadows and emotions, thoughts in her head that were not her own.
However, there were those that could hear, such as Darkness. And those such as herself, who saw. What was more common, and often dismissed as coincidence, were those who could feel. That odd sense of something about to happen. A sense of Deja vu in a new place.
With as many ghosts that were here, she was glad that she did not hear them.
And with so many people, she was really glad that she didn’t feel other people’s emotions.
Zee smiled at her as she came into the kitchen, and they exchanged their usual pleasantries. The muffins were already in the oven and the timer counting down. Grabbing a rolling sheet pan cart and gloves, she began to empty the rotating oven just as the timer went off.
Around halfway through the breakfast rush, she watched Darkness and Camille enter the dining hall. Nessie walked over to the table where they sat with Werewolf and Charlotte.
“I don’t know who had the brilliant idea of getting dad drunk last night.” Charlotte smirked as she shook her head.
“For once,” Camille laughed and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m innocent.”
Her sister and brother-in-law scoffed at that declaration and Charlotte muttered something in Dutch.
“I was with him. We took his pickup so I could use the GPS to find my way back.” Darkness admitted.
“In other words, he planned on getting drunk.” Camille laughed. “No wonder you guys came here.”
“At least you were able to get out of the house!” Werewolf shuddered. “I’m still have deep scars that may never heal. There are things you should never know about your wife’s parents.”
“What did yer dah do this time?” Nessie asked sitting down.
“Came in completely drunk and asked where mom was. Then declared he wanted to tear up that pussy. While stripping on his way to the bedroom.” Camille laughed and placed a hand on Darkness’ arm. “When I first moved down to Baton Rouge, they kept everything mild, afraid of upsetting me.”
“Naucht.” Nessie scoffed. “Yeh've damned near read me entire library.”
“Who has?” Knuckles asked as he kissed his wife on the top of her head.
“Me.” Camille said pulling a paper back out of his cut pocket. “That’s a good one.”
Her sister and Nessie agreed.
“I can’t believe you actually read that.” Werewolf said in disbelief.
Charlotte grabbed the book and flipped to a well-worn page. She held it in front of her husband and pointed to where he should read. His eyes went wide, and then they darkened.
“Think of it as a maintenance manual to keeping your woman happy and satisfied.” Knuckles suggested.
“I’ll get yeh some ice cream.” Nessie said standing up.
“Don’t forget the spoon.” Charlotte said.
“If you read the notes in the margins, it’s more fun if he eats it without the spoon.” Her sister said and Werewolf turned the book sideways.
“Her grandfather has some good ideas.” Knuckles said as he adjusted himself before sitting down.
“Teeth, lad, teeth.” The two sisters declared laughing.
“My wife is the current president of the local N.K.C., also known as the No Knickers Club.” Knuckles explained to a confused looking Darkness. “At our wedding here, she wore a thong, and her grandfather kept telling me to use my teeth to take it off.”
“And did you?” Darkness asked.
“Oh, aye, he did.” Nessie said handing Charlotte a single serve cup of chocolate and vanilla ice cream and a new plastic shower curtain still in the package.
“What’s that for?” Werewolf asked as he put the book down. Darkness picked it up and Camille turned to the right page and pointed to where he should read.
“Spoken like a mon that never had to get chocolate out of sheets.”
“Take me upstairs and eat ice cream out of my pussy.” Charlotte suggested softly before standing up and offering her hand to her husband. Werewolf stood up and tossed her over his shoulder before dashing out of the room.
“You know…” Knuckles said grinning up at his wife. “Cheyenne is watching the baby right now.”
“Aye.” Nessie agreed. “I’ll be oop wit some ice cream.”
He tipped her face up for a kiss before leaving. “Go to the house, kids.” He ordered at the doorway to the hall and three black cats headed for their little pet door at the end of the hallway.
“Lass,” Nessie said gently as she sat down, “go get yer mon a plate. Zee should have an omelet for him.”
Nodding, Camille stood up and headed into the kitchen. There were some good-natured warnings about Camille being in the kitchen. She just laughed and flipped off the room as a whole.
“Do you hear them, lad?”
Darkness nodded. “But I’m not understanding. They speak in riddles. Riddles that I don’t understand.”
She took his hand in hers and turned it over to look at his palm. Except she never looked. He watched as she closed her eyes and ran a finger across the lines on his palm. A small smile graced her face, and she opened her eyes that flashed bright before softening.
“Yeh’ll know when it’s time,” she stood up. “Yeh need to take that call.”
She walked off and as she slipped into the kitchen, the phone in his cut pocket rang. He pulled it out and saw his brother’s name. Smiling at Camille, he pointed to his phone and then left the dining hall. Once out in the hall, he answered the call and held the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, ummm, I’m over here at Momma Dee’s…” Jasper was nervous. This was something that his younger brother had heard in a long time. “Ummm… Do you want to come over? Or maybe we could come out to the clubhouse?”
“I’m not there, I’m up here in Massachusetts meeting Cam’s family.”
Darkness didn’t mean to be hard and cold. But it did come out that way. Especially when he thought about how differently he had been treated compared to how his family had treated Camille.
“I want to apologize.”
“I’m not the one that you need to apologize to.”
“I know. When are you coming back? Maybe we can meet for lunch or something.”
“Yeah, we could do that. We’re flying into Austin and picking up a new Roscoe Original. I’ll let you know a good place to meet.”
“Sounds good.”
They spoke for a few more minutes and then he headed back into the dining hall and found Camille sitting with the musketeers. A little girl sat in Camille’s lap with part of what he assumed was supposed to be his omelet.