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“We’ll be right down, Gabriella!” I yell as I walk into our child’s room. The little girl looks up at me with big blue eyes and a wide, toothy smile. She raises her hands in the air and makes a babble of sounds that sound like the word ‘up.’
How could I possibly say no? Little Rosalina has me wrapped around her tiny finger almost as badly as her mother. I pick her up from her bright pink crib, which still feels all wrong. I always imagined my kid would sleep in an open coffin like I did.
Ah well. One day she’ll be old enough to pick her own bed. She’s already enough like her old man that I’m sure she’ll pick something sufficiently dark and gloomy. Until then, Gabriella can dress her in frilly dresses and pastels.
Rosie grips me tight and leans her head against my shoulder as we walk downstairs. Gabriella is in the kitchen packing bottles and diapers into a large bag. It’s big enough to fit a whole week’s worth of supplies inside.
“Think you’ve got enough for three hours?” I joke.
Gabriella rolls her eyes but smiles at me. “The last thing I need is to be in the middle of this thing and she starts bawling because there’s no more animal crackers left! Oh, her binky—”
“Got it,” I say, dangling the pacifier from my fingers for show before letting Rosie take it. She’s not even a year old and already becoming just as independent as her mom. At this rate, she’ll have her own successful lemonade stand before pre-school.
“Alright,” Gabriella says with a contented sigh. “Ready?” she asks.
“Ready,” I reply.
“Ah bah bah,” Rosie says around her pacifier.
Gabriella nods and starts leading us out of the house. “Let’s rock this birthday party.”
The cafe is alive with chatter and laughter. Which is impressive, since a good portion of the guests are actually undead. Gabriella flows through the crowd with ease, a full pitcher of fresh coffee in her right hand. She happily chats with the folks whose cups she fills as if she was always here. Always one of us.
It’s only been a few years since she first arrived, but it feels like forever. All it took was a little coaxing and some neighborly hospitality. And maybe some exceptional talents form yours truly.
Victoria has Rosie in her arms, bouncing her up and down in tune with a chant I recognize as a protection spell. I’ll have to thank her for the gift later.
While Gabriella and Rosie are preoccupied, I decide to check in with the birthday boy. Or gorgon. Mayor Wendell greets me as warmly as everyone else in his procession line. Behind him is a stack of gifts surrounding an incredible looking slime green cake.
When he asked if he could hold his party here in the cafe, Gabriella practically shrieked. The place has been thriving with a full house every evening, sure, but the mayor having his birthday here was a full seal of approval. The gesture marked it as the best spot in town. A very well-earned moniker. Even Mr. Murphy seems pleased with his mug of tea and mushroom tart.
“Chet, I cannot thank you and Gabriella enough for this,” Wendell says with a pat on my back. His snakes close their eyes affectionately and bob their heads in agreement.
“Are you kidding? Do you know how much business we’re doing right now? We can barely keep the coffee topped off. We should be thanking you!”
Wendell shakes his head. “I don’t mean for hosting. I mean… well, look!” he says while sweeping his hand out. I do. All around us are the familiar cast of friends who’ve been here my whole life. Fred, Victoria, Carolyn, and Chris.
“Looks kind of like how it used to,” I say. Back when Gabriella’s aunt ran the place. But there’s more, too. Mingling in the crowd are people I don’t recognize. Some of them look like they belong to the vague label of ‘monster’, but some are distinctly human looking.
“This cafe has become a symbol of sorts. A way to show how humans and monsters can coexist. Not just that, thrive!” Wendell continues. “This town is becoming something different. A place for this sort of integration of cultures. You and Gabriella, and little Rosalina as well, are proof of what amazing things we can accomplish if we all meet in the middle.”
I feel a little bashful at the praise. It’s all Gabriella, really. Sure I change the lightbulbs and fix the leaks, and maybe if the shop isn’t busy I’ll help wait tables. But the real work is all Gabriella. I open my mouth to tell him as much, but Wendell has already moved on to the rest of his constituents offering well wishes.
I glance back at Victoria and see her ghost kid playing peek-a-boo with Rosie. Her laugh fills my heart with so much cheer. Knowing she’s plenty occupied, I seek out Gabriella next.
She’s back behind the counter, making more coffee and looking a little frazzled. “What can I do?” I ask as I place my hands on her hips from behind.
Gabriella lets out a short laugh of her own before turning around to place a long, sweet kiss on my lips. “Get that tray of mini quiches onto a serving plate.” She nods towards the tray in question and I happily oblige. “Oh, Mrs. Murphy wants to know if we can cater her and Mr. Murphy’s hundred and twentieth anniversary next month.”
I cringe slightly. The idea of trying to please Mr. Murphy specifically fills me with dread. Mrs. Murphy, at least, has no trouble stating exactly what she wants though. At the very least, it won’t be a boring job
“I’ll put it on the calendar,” I reply. Our calendar has gotten incredibly full lately. Not only do we host regular events in the cafe, but now people are asking to rent the space. Add on to that all of our activities outside of work like Rosie’s play dates, Gabriella’s knitting circle, bowling with the guys every Tuesday, it’s enough to drive a regular guy into his grave!
And it’s exactly what I hoped for. Gabriella hasn’t just integrated into the community; she’s quickly becoming the center of it. A month ago, she was organizing a group to help clean up litter in the park and somehow convinced the local teenagers to join in. In return, they got free pastries for a week.
I drop off the quiches and pick up our daughter. Rosie coos again, slapping her palms against my cheeks. I grab the animal crackers from the bag and offer her a bat shaped cookie. Despite Gabriella filling her room with stuffed bears, kittens, and unicorns, bats are Rosie’s favorite animal. She gets so excited and starts clapping her hands when Chris flies around the house at night.
The party continues. Organ music gently plays through the house speakers as Wendell toasts the crowd with bright red sparkling juice. Gabriella and I keep feeding everyone, and our calendar continues to fill up.
