Chapter Five

It was already past noon when Joe woke up the next day. He sat up from the sofa, feeling the warmth of sunshine that streamed into the room through the large windows. He looked around to find no one else in the house except the cat who greeted him, “Good morning, Master Joe. Did you sleep well? You should’ve slept in your room. It’s a nice room with a soft bed.”

“I’m fine. I was too tired last night. And now I’m a little thirsty and hungry.” Joe stood up to search around for food.

“I’m sorry, Joe. I cannot help to prepare breakfast, or lunch, or anything ...”

“Not just for now—for a whole year,” groused Joe. “On top of that, I have to prepare everything for you and the two girls—for a whole year!”

Joe found the coffee machine and brewed a cup of cappuccino for himself. It’s something he’d learned to do during his first visit. He opened the door of the refrigerator and saw several big boxes of prepared vegetables, meat, and pasta; every single one of them was labelled with Elena’s name on a small post-it. There were also lots of yogurt, cheese, milk, eggs, and some fresh fruits; the same post-it appeared on many of those items as well.

“Little rat! As if I care about your sticky notes!” Joe took out a pot of vanilla flavored yogurt—Elena’s favorite based on Jasmine’s information—and opened the cabinet to get a box of cereal that was also marked by the girl’s name. He mixed them together in a big bowl, brought his coffee to the dinner table and began to enjoy his late breakfast—or lunch. Then he remembered that someone else didn’t have anything to eat yet, so he prepared another bowl of cereal and carried Doodle up on the seat beside his own.

“Thank you, Master Joe.” The grateful cat began to munch its food with relish.

Joe smiled with satisfaction. “I have to say that the food is good, and the cappuccino is delicious.”

After the meal, Joe went to his room—the cozy guest room of the house equipped with its own bathroom—and gladly saw that Jasmine had prepared enough clothes for him in the closet, both for winter and the other seasons, including T-shirts, sweaters, pants, jackets, boots, sneakers, hats, scarves, gloves, even some underwear and socks. He unpacked his small bag, took out the magic wand and placed it carefully into the drawer where Jasmine kept for him two credit cards, lots of cash, his fake identity card and driver’s license, the keys for the house and the car, as well as a cellphone. After a quick shower, he put on his new clothes, took some money with him, and left the house with Doodle for a promenade.

Following a quarter of an hour’s leisurely stroll, they arrived at the nearest park, a large one with a French name—Parc La Fontaine. Despite the low temperature, the park was more than half filled with people. There were young parents walking with their babies in strollers, a group of toddlers frolicking in the playground led by two daycare educators, and a few elders sitting on a bench chatting with each other. Everyone looked cheerful and every face relaxed or smiled.

“These people all look happy, as if they’re royals on the Moon,” uttered Joe with a bit jealousy.

“Oh, I think they are happier than that, and they make me feel happy, too,” declared Doodle as it tilted its head looking up at Joe. “Can I come to your arms? I feel really cold.”

Joe rolled his eyes at the cat before bending down to collect it into his arms. “Probably we should buy you a coat.”

“Do you mind lending me your scarf as a blanket?” pleaded Doodle.

“It doesn’t take long for you to settle into your new role as a pet, does it? Much more comfortable than a servant, isn’t it?” Joe satirized the cat as he wrapped his scarf around its body.

His seemingly solo conversation aroused attention from an old lady passing by. She smiled affably at Joe and said, “Young man, your cat is as handsome as you are.” With that, she ambled away to meet with her friends waiting for her on the bench.

Joe stared at the lady’s back and turned up the corners of his mouth into a sheepish grin. Then he blamed himself for being ridiculous to be lifted up by such a casual compliment from a total stranger.

Half an hour later, Joe started to feel the sting of winter chills. He sought shelter from a nearby café, had a cup of latté, and shared a freshly baked croissant with Doodle.

**

Feeling invigorated, Joe half glided through the slippery street back to the house where he found his nieces already back from school. The girls went to the same school, one in the primary part, the other secondary. Sat in the sofa beside them was a young woman with curly long hair hanging loose below her shoulders.

When she saw Joe, she stood up and introduced herself, “Hi, you must be Wendy and Elena’s uncle. I’m Ariana Crevier, Wendy’s French teacher. I picked up your nieces to school this morning and sent them back home just now, as I heard that you had trouble getting up this morning after your long trip.”

The woman was tall and slender, her expression genuine and warm. She was probably a few years older than Joe, but he was sure that no one else here thought so except Doodle, since he always looked more mature than his real age. His fake identity card showed he was 26—Jasmine thought it was a more appropriate age for an uncle of a 14-year-old—although he’d only turned 18 not long ago.

Joe made a step forward and extended his hand to her. “Nice to meet you, Ariana. My name is Joe ...” He didn’t want to tell her his bogus family name Jasmine had come up with—it sounded absurd and bore no meaning—so he changed topic clumsily. “How cold it is today! Do you feel cold?”

Ariana shook his hand and laughed. “Yes, I feel cold, but I love it all the same—I mean, the wintry charm, the snow, etc.” She cocked her head to one side and flashed an impish smile. “As long as we don’t run around in a short-sleeved shirt in the middle of the winter, most of us are fine here.”

Joe looked at her quizzically for a brief second, then realized that it was not the first time they met. “Ah, you ... you were with Wendy last night when she offered me the blanket, right?”

Ariana’s smile broadened. “The blanket is mine actually. But you can keep it if you want. I have another one in the car—we always keep something warm in the car during wintertime, you know.”

“Thank you. But I should wash it and give it back to you.” Joe was in earnest; his eyes never left her face.

“As you wish, but no hurry.” She looked at the clock on the wall and picked up her purse from the sofa. “Oh, it’s kind of late. I have to go home now. So, Joe, you will send the girls to school and pick them up back home next Monday, right? I understand that you will be their guardian from now on until their parents’ return.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Joe nodded and beamed with his mouth half open. “Thank you for your help, Ariana.”

“Madam Crevier, why don’t you stay here for supper?” proposed Wendy. “We have enough food in the fridge.”

“Thank you, honey.” Ariana roughed Wendy’s brown hair. “But I have something to do at home. And I’m sure that you two have a lot to catch up with your uncle tonight. So maybe next time.” She walked toward the door and waved a hand at everyone. “Bye, have a wonderful weekend!”

“Wait, Ariana!” Joe suddenly remembered something. “Where and when can we meet next time so that I can return your blanket?”

Ariana blushed slightly and replied with a low chuckle, “The girls have my number.”

She flew a kiss at Wendy and Elena before going out of the door.

**

Supper time arrived after the sky grew dark and the streetlamps outside began to glow. Too lazy to prepare anything fresh, Joe heated food from the fridge for everyone.

At the table, Wendy sat beside the cat and never took her eyes away from it. “Oh, Doodle, you are so cute. Are you a boy or a girl?”

“A boy,” said Joe as Doodle muttered to itself “A man, actually,” although all the girls heard from it could only be a guttural purr.

“You are also a special cat who can go to toilet by yourself without the need of litter sand,” praised Elena who must have also been smitten by Doodle, despite her obvious dislike of its owner for some reason.

“All right, girls,” uttered Joe flatly. “Let’s eat. And when we eat, we don’t get ourselves distracted by the cat.”

Elena rolled her eyes and said no more, but Wendy enthused on, “Uncle Joe, can you cook?”

“Yes, I think I can.”

“Can you cook mashed potato with meatballs and green peas?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Can you cook fried rice with chicken legs and broccoli?”

“I think so.” Joe’s voice was tinged with annoyance.

“Can you cook lasagna?”

“No idea what that is.”

“Can you cook shepherd’s pie?”

“No! Why don’t you focus on the food that’s already in your plate?” Joe’s patience ran out and he let it show without disguise.

Wendy dropped her eyes and went into silence. Then the corners of her mouth turned down and tears welled up in her eyes.

“Look what you did!” Elena didn’t hesitate to scold her uncle. “Last time you came here, I was my sister’s age and you treated me with the same impatience.”

Joe realized that was the reason why she didn’t like him and had been giving him the cold shoulder all this time. Looking at Wendy’s miserable face, he regretted his severe tone but didn’t know how to make peace without losing dignity, so he only continued attacking his food with his fork.

Doodle sighed—loud enough for Joe to hear—and jumped onto Wendy’s lap, rubbing its head against her belly. The little girl cuddled the cat close and kissed it on the ear, her face brightened again and her mood turned around, although she didn’t talk with Joe anymore.

**

Time slipped away faster than Joe had expected. The two girls didn’t bother him much at all. Besides driving them back and forth between home and school, what he needed to do was mostly prepare meals for them, which was not a problem as his sister had left him a long list of recipes for the dishes the girls liked. Although Jasmine had asked him to help Wendy with her bedtime routine that involved making sure to brush her teeth properly and reading her a story book every night, he removed the task from his duty list since Wendy never asked for it. Most of the nights, he saw her sneak into her sister’s room like a little mouse. He never thought to stop her and couldn’t care less what the girls did, albeit his curiosity occasionally got the better of him.

One night, he edged to the half open door of Elena’s room, listening to their conversation from outside.

“…a big fellow with thick arms and legs,” said Elena who was in the middle of telling a story to Wendy, “he was the strongest and bravest man in that far-away land.”

“Was he also handsome?” asked Wendy.

“Yes, Jack was. Most heroes in stories are good-looking, but in real life, it may not be the case. We are not supposed to judge people based on their appearance anyway.”

“But I’d still like my hero to be handsome.”

“That’s superficial, Wendy. Many good people are bad-looking and bad people good-looking.” Elena tried to impart to her sister a little wisdom in life, which reminded Joe of the similar lessons he’d received from Jasmine before. “Anyway,” Elena continued, “Jack volunteered to battle against the four evil demons that had created chaos in many villages and stolen many children away from their parents. After four days and four nights’ ferocious fight, Jack was scratched and bruised all over, but it was nothing compared to the demons—they were all fatally wounded and died a painful death. But”—Elena switched into a more ominous tone—“this is not the end of the story yet, nor the most interesting part of it!”

“What happened after that?” Wendy couldn’t wait to learn more.

“When people were singing and dancing on top of the mountain celebrating the victory, their hero, Jack, died.”

“What? How come?”

“He was tripped by a small rock on the ground and fell down, knocking his head on another small rock—and died!” Following her last word, Elena burst out laughing.

Joe chuckled behind the door. Elena’s story wasn’t meant to praise bravery, but to be funny. However, he didn’t hear Wendy laugh, not at all. Quite the opposite, when the little girl spoke, she sounded vexed. “Why is that laughable? Why are you laughing at a hero’s death? It’s not a good story. It’s stupid!”

Joe couldn’t help but laugh again, louder this time. Wendy’s interpretation of the story was even funnier than the story itself. He hadn’t had a good laugh since … well, since forever! It felt good to laugh! He almost wanted to enter the door and laugh together with Elena. But before he made any move, the door was already closed with a slam, shutting him out and ending his intention for truce—the girls must have heard him, both affronted by his “snooping.”

He groaned to himself and walked away in silence. Although he was fine as long as they didn’t cause trouble, he wouldn’t be terribly bothered either if they talked with him more—communication between him and the girls had been rather scarce, and icebreaker was nowhere to be found.