Reservations

[Rowan Finnegan]

Maman Marie Mayfaire
Front Counter Attendant

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Marie’s head zipped around towards Zee. She all but jumped, having been completely ignorant of the man before. There was something about this Zee that Marie could not quite put her finger on. Oh, her memory hadn’t been the finest in her twilight years, but she was still sharper and spryer than most her age – thank you very much. Fumbling into the pocket of her cotton dress, Marie extracted a pair of coke-bottle spectacles. Placing them on just so, Marie took a closer look at Zee.

                “You been here before child?” She asked him, studying his face, before shaking her head and answering for him, “’Course you wasn’t. I’da remembered. You must have one of those faces, child. Or I’m gettin’ old.”

                Marie cackled. She always knew what to say to make herself crack up.

                The glasses came off and were back in her pocket. She turned her attentions back on Seven and gave him a wide, gummy smile. Was that a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks? Couldn’t be. Marie was too old and too wise for a romp with such a young, handsome thing. He almost reminded her of Anne’s foxy vampire, Marius. Almost.

                “You better watch that silver tongue of yours, cutie! I’ve half a mind to join you!” She cackled out as she pinched at his supple cheeks, “You want a reading? We got plenty here that can do that for ya’, including yours truly.” A tone of pride entered Marie’s voice as she said that last bit. Reading the cards had been a means to pass the time during the slow hours in the Café, a little way to occupy her mind; but over the last few years, Marie found that she was actually developing a small skill with the little painted cards.

                “Scotch on the rocks? I like em’ hard too,” Marie said to Zee with a wink. She took out a small paper notebook from her other pocket and wrote out the drink order for Zee. She looked over to Seven and waggled her sparse eyebrows, “And for you, Galahad?”