The Deucalion Restaurant

🍚Chapter 8🍚

The next morning, Morrigan was awakened by the sound of screaming coming from downstairs.

"But Mum said it was my turn to do it!"

"But you did it yesterday too!"

"That's not true! Nana, tell him!"

"No! You always get Nana to defend you. It's not fair!"

"Calm down, boys. Why don't you both help me, hm?" A softer voice was heard, though it sounded a tad bit strained and exhausted even though the owner – undoubtedly Ornella – had most likely recently woken up.

Morrigan found it slightly hilarious, rolling back over and snuggled into her covers and closing her eyes once more. Five-year-old twin boys fighting over who gets to make the adults their morning coffees, who would have thought?

She lay there for ten minutes before realising that there was no way she was going to get back to sleep and might as well get up and make a start to her day.

Morrigan groaned as she forced herself out of the comfort of her bed, and headed out her door to the bathroom, before going down to the kitchen and dining room where she knew her family must already be.

Sauntering into the kitchen, Morrigan was met with chirpy 'good morning!'s and 'how did you sleep?'s, and bright smiles that were far too cheery for the morning. She walked over to the toaster to pop some bread in, and then to the fridge to pick out a jar of spread. She sensed someone walking up behind her, and turned to see Ivy reaching for a container of what Morrigan believed to be the remains of last night's dinner; spaghetti.

"Ready to hand in that resumé?" Ivy spoke softly, as if she didn't want Corvus, who was standing by the counter with a cup of coffee not too far from them, to hear her.

Morrigan grinned, feeling a sudden wave of excitement overcome her. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Great!" Ivy beamed back, turning back to walk to the microwave with the spaghetti and ignoring her husband's questioning gaze.

"You two aren't plotting anything, are you? It's far too early in the morning for any of your schemes." Corvus said, his eyes flitting warily from his wife to his daughter.

"Oh, of course not, love," Ivy said, leaning over to peck his cheek. "Far too early to scheme anything. But, however, it is never too early to talk about boys." She winked at Morrigan, turning away to retrieve the spaghetti from the microwave and head out to the dining room.

Corvus sighed. "If she gets too much," he started, looking at the door his second-wife had just exited through, "you know you can always say something, right? Either to her or myself – preferably not your grandmother – God knows what she'd say or do."

Morrigan chuckled light-heartedly, "I know, Dad. And I will. But I promise you I'm fine with it... at the moment at least – sorta brought it on myself anyway, didn't I?"

"What? By becoming a stuttering, mumbling mess at a restaurant because of a waiter? And then watching said waiter every time he came into view for the rest of the time we were at the restaurant? Don't pretend you weren't watching him; I was watching you."

Corvus laughed as his daughter pouted at him, only for them to both startle when the sound of Morrigan's toast popping up in the toaster filled the air for a brief moment. Morrigan turned to grab the toast out, placing it on a plate and reaching for the jar of peanut butter and the knife she left beside it.

"You know, part of me really hopes that the two of you find something – I can't wait to share the story of how you to met to family-friends and anyone else who wants to hear it."

"Oh God, Dad, no. You're definitely not gonna get to give a speech at the wedding," Morrigan said, layering the peanut butter onto her toast.

"Already thinking about marrying him, huh? Must be a pretty serious infatuation."

"Dad."

Corvus chuckled, "Alright, alright. But seriously, I look forward to telling this mysterious waiter all your embarrassing childhood stories."

Before Morrigan could retaliate, Corvus had left to the dining room, where she could hear that someone had hit him for her. "Leave your poor daughter alone, Corvus! I thought I raised you better than this!"

Morrigan rolled her eyes, silently thanking the world for her grandmother as she closed the lid of the peanut butter jar and put it back in the fridge before heading to join her family in the dining room for breakfast.

~

"Alright, here we are. Back again!" Ivy beamed. "Go on – and tell me if you see him again!"

"Wait, you're not coming with me?"

"Morrigan, you're nearly sixteen, for goodness' sake! Just drop the paper in the application box, okay? I'll be waiting here; take as long as you need," she winked, leaning over and opening Morrigan's door. "You'll be fine, hon."

Morrigan gave her a nervous smile before hopping out the car and walking towards the doors to the Deucalion Restaurant. With one last glance back, and a thumbs up from Ivy, Morrigan pushed open the doors and walked in.

Thankfully, it was one of the Deucalion's less busy days, though Morrigan feared that made her more noticeable. She slipped around the family in front of her, avoiding the sweet-looking waitress serving them and scanned the lobby area for the application box.

Almost sighing in relief as her eyes found the box, Morrigan began to walk swiftly up to it. She had just reached it when she noticed a man walking up in front of her, towards the box.

He had a mane of impossibly ginger curls and a neatly trimmed beard to match. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he smiled down at her. And his lime green suit... it was really quite the statement. But what caught Morrigan's eye was the brass name badge on the left breast pocket of his suit.

Jupiter North

"Another application?"

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Written: 29 January 2022

Published: 30 January 2022