18. Kettil of Fish

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KETTIL OF FISH

The Present: Trick at the cafe

The cafe was hopping, it being Saturday and all. Trick’s boss was looking overwhelmed and long-suffering. The expression of abject relief on his face the moment he spotted Trick was gratifying. Joe was looking like Joe.

“What’s your back pocket poet today?” Trick asked as he made his way from the stockroom with necessary supplies.

Joe didn’t look up from the dishes. “Robert Duncan.”

“Sticking with the Beats for now, huh?”

“They jive with my current life state.”

“Puerile?” suggested Trick.

Joe flicked soapy water at him.

The boss finished up his current order and turned on Trick. “Thank fuck you’re here. Please, save me.”

“I gotcha.” Trick swooped into position behind the espresso machine, wishing he’d worn his cape. Yes, he owned a cape – several, in fact.

Boss said in a low, angst-riddled tone. “None of them know what they want! Ninety percent of the time the savory side of the menu just confuses them. I can’t find the oat milk and we’re already out of buns.”

“Has Max been in yet?” Trick handed him a fresh carton of oat milk which he’d already retrieved.

“Who?”

“Mr Spandex?” Trick put on his apron with a flourish.

“I recall no major spandex incidents as yet.”

“Well, then some truly spectacular buns are incoming.”

“Did you just pun me? At—” boss glanced over at the wall clock “—9:30 a.m.? It’s far too early for flirting, Trick.”

“No such thing!” said Trick, finishing up the latte and giving it to the nice young couple with his best smile. He pivoted and began loading a new batch of sweet scones into the display case to take over for the missing buns, and tipping the bun label down.

“What flavor are these?” he asked.

“No idea.”

Trick sniffed. “Ginger something?”

“Apricot,” said Joe, not looking up from the dishes.

“Oh, nice combo.” Trick scrawled a label. His handwriting was terrible but it hardly mattered, everyone would ask anyway. Scone people liked having a whole conversation during their selection process. Trick was thinking of developing an advanced personality chart based entirely on beverages and pastry choices. There was a best-selling book buried in there somewhere. He knew Isaac did the same as a bartender. “IPA drinkers,” he often said, shaking his head in distress. Trick would nod back, all serious “Same as the skinny half-caf people. I getcha.”

None of the regulars were there except Floyd. Floyd showed up first thing every day so as to get his preferred small table along the side nearest the serving counter. On the weekends he was extra diligent because tourists didn’t know the table belonged to him, but the weekends were the best times to be an observer of human nature. Which, Trick theorized, was Floyd’s reason for existence. He was like a birdo, just for people. Tourists dominated the cafe on summer weekends.

It’s why the other regulars weren’t there.

Although Max dropped in briefly just then, wearing his ubiquitous full coverage spandex and looking like the wet dream of gym bunnies everywhere.

Trick’s boss said, “Ah, I see your point.”

“Late run today?” Trick didn’t ask what Max wanted, just made him an iced Slippery Paris Brest. He was in too good a mood to make the poor man order it by name this morning. Amazing what a little reunion sex could do for one’s outlook on life. Okay, well, a lot of reunion sex. Sato was pretty insatiable.

Max smirked around the straw. “Bryan kept me up late.” Speaking of.

“Explains why he wasn’t down for breakfast.”

“Can’t complain.”

Trick agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment. Although he couldn’t imagine going for a long run after a night like the one he’d just had. Max was a tough cookie. “I thought complaining was your forte.”

“We all have superpowers,” replied one of the most powerful humans on the planet. “Speaking of which, where is everyone?”

“You found ‘em, sweet-cheeks.” Trick gestured in shock. The Bean was absolutely packed, humming with conversation and activity.

Max sucked down his drink in annoyance. “You know what I mean. The den was suspiciously quiet when I looked in before my run.”

“Marine biology conference, remember?”

“ Everyone went?”

“The enforcers and Tank went as bodyguards. And then Marvin and Colin went to collect Mana for some shopping.”

“Of course they did. I suspect glitter is involved.”

“Sequins darling, not glitter. And Lovejoy has a food truck thingy.”

“Of course he does. Wait. Do I care about any of this?”

“I don’t think so. You never have before.”

“Fair point.” Max finished his drink, plonked the glass down. “Too crowded in here. I’m off.” And sped out.

Trick was tolerably certain the entire cafe turned to watch him leave. The man had a spectacular ass. Runners. Unfair.

His boss said, “Beautiful buns, point taken. Still, next week order double of those sticky ones for the weekend.”

Trick got defensive. “I already did. They obviously didn’t deliver them.”

“Don’t let them charge us then.”

Trick was annoyed. “Boss! Whatcha take me for?”

His boss was instantly recalcitrant. “Of course, you’re wonderful. Silly of me to even suspect you weren’t on it.”

Trick stuck his nose ostentatiously in the air. “Exactly.”

The boss was generally quite cowed by Trick and his efficiency, and his spectacular abilities in the arena of drinks, socialization, and gift of the cafe gab. Trick had single handedly turned the Bean into the local hot spot, and everyone knew it.

The boss (if Trick had learned his name, he’d long since forgotten) was a bit of an idiot. Fortunately, he was well aware that his role, as Trick’s boss, was to make sure everything stayed well oiled and to sit back and let Trick do the real work. Like the best lube. As a result he’d become entirely dependent on Trick. Also like lube.

As such, he spent most of his time terrified Trick might leave the Bean for better climes. It was the perfect dynamic, so far as Trick was concerned.

“Excuse me, but when it says fish sauce is that Vietnamese or Thai style?”

Trick turned to the sharply dressed woman in front of him. She had an elder goth feel to her. Or maybe she was Scandinavian? She was ghostly complected with razor cheekbones. Wide black pants and a textured asymmetrical top, paired with sparse but extremely expensive silver jewelry. The attention to the details of her outfit screamed human, but she was eyeing the shifter side of the menu with interest.

“Vietnamese,” said Trick.

“Have you considered making your own garum?”

Ah, a foodie. “I have, actually. But apparently it stinks to high heaven and I have housemates with sensitive noses.”

The lady leaned forward a little. “You have a large local shifter population?” She seemed overly focused on the shifter drinks – for a human. Tail chaser maybe? She seemed a bit old for that.

“How perspicacious of you. Yes, we do.” Trick was cautious. He didn’t mention the pack.

“I will have an iced Sea Bream, please.”

“You’re sure?” Trick had thought she was human, but maybe she was one of those shifters who hid her identity well. Selkie? But frankly, she just looked a little too old to be a shifter.

She chuckled. “Yes, sotis, I’m sure. Nicely high in protein and low in sugar, like drinking broth for breakfast. How else will I keep my girlish figure?”

Trick turned and began making it. There was no one in line behind her at the moment so she stayed there, clearly inclined to chat with him. Trick didn’t mind, he liked chatting.

“So who invents these drinks? I should like to talk to the person responsible for that part of your menu.”

Trick wasn’t sure he should admit to anything but his boss didn’t give him a choice.

“Trick here does. Isn’t he brilliant? And no, you can’t steal him away from me.”

“She can’t?” Trick wanted to know.

Floyd piped up. “No, she can’t. I’d have to spend years searching for the perfect cap all over again. If you moved, I’d have to follow. And I don’t want to sell my house in the current market.”

“You’d sell your house because of a barista?” The lady was suitably impressed.

“Can you think of a better reason?” Floyd took his coffee very seriously.

Boss waved at Floyd. “See?”

The lady raised up both hands, bracelets tinkling. “I don’t want to poach him. I don’t run a competing cafe or work for Sunboodle or Perks or anything like that.”

“So you say .” Floyd was deeply suspicious.

Trick handed the lady her drink, then left them arguing, while he served a small family of tourists. Two vanilla lattes and two iced decaf mochas. Humans. So boring.

The lady sat down with Floyd, presumably to wait for Trick to have a free moment. She’d be there a while but she seemed prepared to wait. Floyd brought out his knitting and started asking questions, prepared to be nosey as long as necessary. He was invested in making certain she really wasn’t trying to lure Trick away.

Trick was intrigued but also busy. All morning and lunch the cafe belonged to confused visitors and in the later afternoon and evening the teens would take over.

Trick easily handled the current line and then dashed about, cleaning up.

A couple hours in, Trick was still whirling about, having a grand old time flirting and chatting and serving with aplomb. He really enjoyed his job, and he was good at it, and busy days highlighted both. He didn’t even mind the tourists.

Marvin and Colin showed up, looking very sparkly. Flushed with success and burdened with shopping bags.

The lady eyed them with interest too. Maybe she really was a tail chaser.

An opportunity presented itself at about two in the afternoon. Things had slowed and she’d been back twice, once to order something to eat and then again to order a normal human drink (espresso shot, a respectable choice) with no opportunity to chat business with Trick.

Trick was going to show her mercy by pulling up a chair to Floyd’s table and chatting a bit, but then Deputy Kettil came into his cafe. In uniform this time, and with his partner. Which meant he would behave himself. At least Trick hoped so.

Frankly, Trick had been dreading this bit.

The bear shifter was very subdued, ordering his usual plus one of the last remaining pastries. His partner, Deputy Zarlenga, gave Trick a huge grin and a generous tip even though he only got a black medium roast.

Zarlenga nudged Kettil with an elbow. “Go on.”

Kettil huffed. “Sorry.”

Trick wrinkled his nose. “For what?”

“I broke your cafe last night.”

“Then you should be apologizing to my boss.”

The boss glared at the huge man. “One table and three chairs! Do I send the city a bill? Can I get a break on my taxes?”

Kettil mumbled into his chin. “I was off duty.”

“That’ll be two hundred and thirty-seven dollars then, please.”

Joe piped up from the dish station. “I cleaned and locked up last night, but I don’t know how to repair furniture so I had to text him what happened.”

Trick patted Joe on one bony shoulder. “I know, kid. You’re no snitch.”

“Yeah, but does that big cop know I’m cool?” wondered Joe, nervous.

“He’s a cop. They like snitches,” said Trick.

“What about the other guy? He was fighting too,” grumbled Kettil, arguing with Trick’s boss.

“Sato’s body broke the table but you’re the one who tossed him into it,” defended Trick, wondering if he remembered accurately.

“So we split it fifty-fifty?” suggested the bear, hopefully.

Boss exchanged glances with Trick.

Kettil sighed. “Fine, here's two hundred cash. That's all I carry on me.”

“Done,” said the boss, taking the wad of bills.

Deputy Zarlenga elbowed his partner again.

The bear shifter glared at him. “Yeah, yeah. Go sit down. I got it.”

Trick winced. So the deputy still wasn’t out. He clearly hadn’t even told his partner why he kept sticking his nose into Trick’s business. But Deputy Zarlenga seemed like a decent sort, progressive enough for a cop. He was serving in the Bay Area, after all. Could Kettil not even be out with his partner?

Deputy Kettil turned to Trick. “Can we talk privately?”

Trick narrowed his gaze. “No. Others are already waiting on my time.” He gestured to the nice lady sitting with Floyd. She raised her empty cup at the deputy.

Kettil looked startled to be turned down for a woman. He sighed. “Okay, then. Sorry for sticking my nose in your business last night. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why did you?” Trick pushed, wondering if the bear would admit to anything.

“Well, you seemed to be in an unsafe situation and I am a cop.”

“Ah, so you would have done the same for anyone?”

Kettil tugged at his ear. “Sure. Yeah.” Then he raised his voice so his partner could hear. “You’re nothing special.”

Trick winced. That hurt a bit. Even though he’d already decided to walk away from Kettil. But at least it showed him it was the right decision. That’s where they stood. Kettil still liked him but was too embarrassed to own it. And Trick had returned to his first love, who was entirely the opposite.

Trick respected a man’s right not to come out until he was good and ready. But it also justified his own decision. Not that he’d really made one. Sato had shown up and Trick had gone belly up and back to him. Because he was Sato. And Sato was, it turned out, as necessary to Trick as swimming. He’d just forced himself to forget for a decade.

He decided to let the bear shifter off the hook. “Just your natural protective instincts kicking in?” which was bullshit. Well, bearshit. Everyone knew bear shifters had no natural protective instincts.

“Let’s call it my cop training,” said Kettil, trying for honesty in this one way.

“Sure. Nothing special. I got it. Let’s call it that.”

But Marvin was close enough to have overheard everything and he never let anything just drop. He was so damn stubborn. Trick wondered if that was a merman thing. He came up to the counter right next to Kettil, leaned his elbows on it tilting forward. “So that’s it for you and Deputy Tight-Pants Murder Muffin here?”

“I guess so,” replied Trick, not wanting to mention Sato. That seemed too mean.

But Marvin was not so kind. Kind enough to keep his voice low so he didn’t out the man to his partner, who was some distance away, talking with one of the other human regulars. But no kinder. “What was he gonna be then, big guy? Your bi-experiment? For a first time, call?” He didn’t give Kettil a chance to answer, just kept going, almost hissing he was so mad. “ Nothing special indeed. Trick is the special-est ! How dare you! You’ve liked Trick since he first came to town. How dare you deny it.”

Trick knew that Marvin was mad for himself too. They were both flaming and femme and high-octane gay. Marvin was in everyone’s face about it because he liked it, but also, he could do so safely now, with a pack at his back. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a before time. That didn’t mean that he, like Colin, didn’t have a past where it had been dangerous to be himself. When he’d gotten bullied and beaten up for it, because Marvin hadn’t had a Sato protecting him. Marvin had been alone and abandoned by his pod too. But unlike Sato he hadn’t had Trick befriend him. Marvin had been alone and openly gay. It must have been terribly scary and sad. Trick could understand him lashing out. But perhaps this was something for him to talk to Isaac about, not take out on Deputy Kettil on a Saturday in Trick’s cafe.

Marvin continued, “And after fighting over Trick, you just gonna drop him like it meant nothing? Like it means nothing?” Marvin glared hard at the bear shifter. “I was always on your side, you know?”

Deputy Kettil hunched forward. Trick had never seen a big man that cowed.

Trick kept his voice very low. “Marvin, I made my choice.”

Marvin remained pissed, speaking about the deputy as if he weren’t right there. “Yeah, but there’s no call for him to be nasty about it. You might have given him a chance if he’d had the guts to openly like you.”

Whoa, perhaps all mermen did have spurs. “You think I should have grabbed him and cracked him open like a clam shell? Those get eaten, you know?” Trick tried to make light of it. Voice still low.

“You saying you were willing to sleep with him to get him honest? Dick him into coming out? I suppose it’s happened before.” Marvin looked sideways at the bear, lip curled. “Maybe you still have a chance, big boy.”

Deputy Kettil looked appropriately horrified.

Trick was beginning to feel sorry for the cop. He hadn’t realized that Marvin also took care of his pack in his own way. It’s just that his weapon of choice was less physical than that of the werewolves.

Alpha-mate indeed.

Trick lowered his voice even more. “It’s okay, Marvin.” He stopped himself from patting the crestfallen bear shifter on the head. “Look at him, he’s wilted. It’s not only that he doesn’t want to, he can’t yet. He’s not ready. I know he liked me. Likes me. But I can’t handle raw, unformed queer and was never gonna. I’m not as strong as you.” Alec had been closeted when he and Marvin got together. “He’s gotta know what he is and what he wants before he’ll be good for anyone, least of all me.”

The bear shifter looked resigned at that. Like he knew it. Like he’d heard it before. Possibly from Isaac.

Trick decided he needed to calm Marvin down more than anything. “Look. Sato may have left me for years, but he’s never been shy about being with me. He’s always been open about wanting me, claiming me publicly. And you saw him, he could pass as straight easily.”

Colin put a hand to Marvin’s arm then, reminding them that he was still there. His voice was as soft and gentle as ever, eyes full of compassion. “It’s okay. We’re all okay. Look at Trick, really look at him. He’s actually happy.”

Trick had forgotten that Marvin was fighting in Colin’s corner too. Colin, who’d tried to hide who he was for most of his life. Colin, who’d been chronically abused and neglected because his queerness was obvious in a family where that was unwelcome.

Marvin stared at Trick for a long moment. Trick wondered what he was looking for, what he saw in his face. Whatever it was, it seemed to resonate. The merman pursed his lips. “Okay, it’s your decision.”

“Damned right.”

Deputy Kettil mustered up the courage to speak at that point, brave man. The deputy’s deep voice was low enough so eavesdroppers, especially human ones, would struggle to hear.

Floyd had been getting increasingly annoyed by all of this whispering among shifters that he couldn’t hear. Trick wouldn’t put it past him to have cranked his hearing aid up all the way up.

Kettil said to Trick, quiet but sharp, “You’re snack-sized and irreverent. How was I supposed to know whether to take you seriously?”

“Interesting.” Marvin crossed his arms, back on the attack. “Are you saying that you never intended to take our dratsie seriously or that you just hadn’t gotten around to it?”

“Or are you saying that I’m junk food and not filling enough?” shot back Trick, feeling defensive.

Kettil shook his head and sighed. “My apologies, that was unfair. I don’t know what I intended. And I don’t know what I’m saying. Or even why I fought with that creature last night.”

“Because you don’t know what you want. You never did. That’s the problem.” Trick felt suddenly tired from his late night and busy day. He hadn’t wanted this confrontation. Sometimes Marvin was too much.

Deputy Kettil pressed on. “Marvin is right, you are special. I’m bitter because I no longer get to figure out how special. Maybe I really didn’t think you were serious, or maybe that is an excuse I’m using to make myself feel better. Maybe I lost because of my own lack of courage. Or maybe I never had a chance because of him . Maybe it’s all my fault like the Alpha-mate claims. But I also feel like you flirted with me when you were in love with someone else. And that too isn’t fair.”

Trick sighed. “I never thought he would come back. We all have pasts and broken hearts, Deputy.”

The bear shifter snorted. “Not all of us.”

Colin said, softly, “I guess you do now.”

Deputy Kettil cocked his head. “Maybe I do. But this, whatever it was or could have been, ended before it really got started. Yeah, I’m hurt. But you didn’t crush me, kid.”

Trick was relieved. And that was decent of the bear to say. Graceful in a way. To take any burden of guilt off Trick.

“You sure about that?” muttered Marvin.

Kettil looked suddenly old and tired and also sympathetic. “Even if I’d had the guts and we’d started something, even if I hadn’t made any mistakes, it still wouldn’t be me, now, anyway. That man took on a bear for you. And a cop. That’s not nothing.”

Trick considered the possibility of a thing that might have been. Kettil was definitely his type. Dominating and growly and damaged.

But now, like before, Sato took up all of Trick’s attention. He never did want anyone else when that merman was around.

“Would you have had the guts, Deputy?”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

With which Kettil left the Bean.

Trick wondered if he’d ever come back. If the cafe would remain a regular stop in daily rounds.

Colin said, after the door closed behind the bear shifter, “Do you think he really is gay?”

Marvin snorted. “Well, he certainly wanted to fuck Trick here. I think that makes him at least a little bit gay.”

Trick sighed deeply. “It’s all so awful and complicated.”

“Never mind him now. Think about your big, strong… erm… medium-sized sharp… merman hottie instead,” suggested Marvin.

Trick tilted his head. “I will. I wonder how the marine biology conference is going.”

A plaintive voice came from the side. “Would you be able to talk to me about savory drinks now, sotis?” The stylish Scandinavian lady was still waiting.

Trick would like nothing better.