My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

The day continued on as if it were any other day of the week. I know I complain when things get dreary and dull, but in truth, sometimes a little monotony was good every once in a while.

If every day was exactly like how yesterday was, I'd probably be long-dead somewhere in my early thirties.

Nothing much else happened for a little while there. I tended to a few more customers, swept the floor a little, and by ten Irene had finished with her jotting and scribbling, scooping up an entire mountainous pile of organized papers, before cramming the entire wad into a folder on the empty stool beside her.

"Are detectives always busy this time of year?" I asked, in awe at how easy she made holding that ten-ton folder seem.

"If busy implies playing solitaire from nine to five, sure," She said, briskly downing the rest of her drink. "This is just backlogs of unfinished reports. Since there's nothing much for me to do then I might as well find something to do."

"And you found your passion pouring over speeding incidents, I see," I stared at her. "And you wonder why we don't see each other too often."

"All part of the job."

"Well, how diligent of you."

"Thank you," She said, focusing too much on the time showing on her watch to detect my sarcasm. "Alright,  it's time for me to go be busy elsewhere. The bill, please."

After I rang her up on the till, Irene handed over the cash alongside a rather generous tip. She said her farewell, and smiled appreciably at the necklace around my neck again, before promptly walking away with the soft chime of bells at the front door signaling her departure.

A little moment after, I was beeped from my pocket again, pulling out my phone to see a swarm of messages flooding in from Amanda's direction. Another miracle of a woman that apparently doesn't need sleep.

<<Quick reminder—parents will be arriving at eight!>> Read the beginning of her message thread <<Eight, alright? Dress your best, and remember to just be yourself!>>

<<A little info on them. Dad's a broker, and Mom was a sergeant before they got married. Dad will probably bore you, Mom might try to drill you. Keep your head! If you're not uncomfortable, remember I'm there. Give the word, I'll stop them.>>

<<Btw, movie director called, you got a scene to film at three today. Will send you the cords later. I'm not in it, so I won't be coming… will be sleeping in instead. Guess I'll just see you tonight, alright? I love you. <3>>

A movie shoot, and a parent-boyfriend conference back-to-back? Sorry, did I say this day was dreary and dull? Probably should take that back now.

Wanted to continue the conversation for a little while, but as is the nature of the service industry, when one customer leaves, two more shall take its place... and for the latter half of my shift, I found myself locked in an endless cycle of greetings, brewings, and servings with barely a pause to catch my breath.

Nick marched out of his office to try and help mitigate the flow of orders piling in, but of course, Nick being Nick, he was more scathing criticism than jolly cooperation most of the time. As a result, it didn't take long for me to break down and lie to him that I could take care of things on my own out here and that he could just chill back in his comfy office.

Wish I had a comfy office…

An hour in of latte art and milkshake blending, I was still being kept as busy as a bee during pollen season. I was so immersed in my busywork in fact, that when I heard the entrance bells tinkling again, I didn't have the luxury of looking up from my station and opted instead for a half-hearted welcome.

"Let me know when you're good," I said to the new arrival, who had huddled himself on one end of the counter. "The menu items can be a bit confusing to understand, so give me a heads up if you ain't sure of anything."

He gave me an understanding grunt, and it wasn't even a second later that he had an inquiry. "The Terestra Mix is it… it's dark chocolate, whipped cream, and strawberry sauce with a sprinkle of oreo crumbs on top. Am I remembering that right?"

I felt my hand briefly pause in the middle of titling the pitcher over a cup, impressed, before I quickly carried on again.

"One of the rare times I didn't have to explain that to a customer," I answered, turning my back towards the counter to continue preparing another order. "You must be a regular, then."

"An old favorite of my daughter, actually," I heard him say. "I used to make her that same drink all the time for dessert when she was younger. She really loved it."

I instantly stopped whatever it was that I was doing, orders and preferences quickly dashing from my mind as I whirled back around. A kindly, unassuming face met me back. A handsome streak of black-gray hair with an extravagant business suit to match.

"I'm delighted to know that she still does…" He said.

And he smiled at me, and I knew that smile all too well, could never forget it if I tried… because how many times already have I seen him smile the same way? It was the first expression I've seen on him, and also the very same expression I ever saw of him last.

And now, here he was again at last.

"Harry?" I said, the shockwave surprise leaving me completely breathless.

"Mr. I-Just-Work-Here, right? It's an utter delight to see you again."

"Wow, you… you're actually… actually here…"

"You're surprised?" Harry chuckled. He sounded better, sounded healthier. "Wasn't it you in the first place that was accosting me to come and visit? The Himdale special, you said. Your recommendation. Well then," he beamed again at me. "One of those, please."

The orders were piling, patrons' patience were wearing, and suppressing my utter bewilderment, I got back into the flow of things working as fast as I could to sort everything out first but even then, I couldn't stop myself from stealing glances at my newly acquired customer patiently huddled over the counter.

Seeing Harry here, and the way he was, It was like I was both peering into the past before and the present now. How far he looked from the gaunt, disheveled mess of skin and bones from yesteryear.

Freshly shaven, and with a clean cut, all I could picture was Nick a few decades from now… and if that is how he's gonna wind up, then safe to assume, he and Hayley both are gonna age like fine wine.

In fact, speaking of the both of them…

"Nick is in the back," I spoke out, inattentively stirring a drink so fast it was practically throwing itself out the rims of the cup. "Would you like me to, um…?"

"No, don't. Not just yet, anyway," He told me, then from below the counter, he perched atop a wrapped present, throwing me a little knowing look. "Wouldn't want to spoil an absent father's surprise now, would you?"