“What?” Maddy asks, standing tall. “What did I say?”
“You tell her,” Milo says, grinning at me.
“Gandalf,” I tell her, unable to keep a straight face.
Surprise takes over Maddy’s expression. “As in, Lord of the Rings?”
“Yep,” Milo and I reply at once.
Aunt Maddy giggles. “Okay, very unique. Jamie, can you come with me? Milo looks like he has things covered now.”
“Yep,” I say, sliding out of the booth. “Call out if you need help.”
“We’ll be fine,” Milo says, freeing a hand to wave goodbye.
I wave back. “Bye bye, Gandalf.”
Aunt Maddy giggles as we walk away. “Ridiculous.”
I laugh with her. “I know. But what do you expect from a guy who named his cat after Batman’s butler?”
Aunt Maddy looks at me strangely. “Are you serious?”
I grin, nodding. “Mhmm. That’s where Alfred’s name came from.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s too much.”
Aunt Maddy shows me her progress with the catering menu. She walked me through the concept last night after we closed the cafe. Now, she’s put much more work into it. Clearly overcompensating because she won’t be at the meeting in person.
Mrs. Fisher, the head of the organizing committee, arranged a menu tasting on Monday afternoon. Again, Maddy wanted to come home from Hawaii after the weekend. It took all my strength not to encourage the idea. There’s only so long I can continue being selfless.
When we catered the other society event, it was on a bigger scale than a simple garden party. Nevertheless, Maddy tells me she wants us to make a mark. She wants the food to be the star, forcing every guest to take a card for their next event.
We’re about ten minutes into work when the distinct cries of a baby break our concentration.
“Jamie,” Milo calls from the booth, craning his neck. “Come here and work out this cry with me.”
“Aunt Maddy, will you come with me?”
Maddy stifles a giggle and nods. “Sure.”
When we get to the booth, Gandalf is fussing with whimpering noises. Before I can make a suggestion, he lets out a high-volume wail that cracks into a hysterical cry.
My hands launch over my ears. “Good lord. What is he, Satan spawn?”
“Has he been fed yet?” Aunt Maddy suggests.
I slide over to the opposite side of the booth to grasp the baby bag. I pluck the bottle from inside and hand it to Milo. “Here.”
Milo takes it. “You don’t want to try it first?”
I can’t hide my freaked-out expression. “No way.”
Milo laughs, cradling the baby and pressing the nip of the bottle to his mouth. A happy suckling sound emits from the baby.
“Phew,” I breathe out. “The crying stopped. Thanks, Aunt Maddy.”
“It’s no problem. I’m guessing after his bottle, he’ll most likely need changing, and then sleep,” Aunt Maddy replies.
