Page 43 of Baking and Angels

“Myapologies,” Rafferty insisted as he backed out to the hall. Honestly, this sense of embarrassment was new for him.

Helena said something, but he didn’t quite hear it before Cindy added, “Breakfast for lunch,” witha chuckle.

“Meal of champions,” Helena agreed, just as she appeared to fill the crack inthe door.

“Thank you for coming,” Cindy added.

Helena turned around and gave her friend a gentle smile, her fingers resting on the doorknob. “It’s going to be okay, Cin. I promise. I’m here to fix everything.”

“Hel,” Cindy grumbled. “You can’t just fix this. No one can justfix this.”

Standing there, Helena clearly didn’t know what to say to that, so Rafferty interceded, speaking over her shoulder so as not to invade the woman’s privacy again. “We’ll see you downstairs.”

“Thank you,” Cindy called.

Rafferty could see that it was hard for Helena to leave her friend, even for that short amount of time. With a small bit of encouragement from him, they shut the door firmly behind them and retreated down the hall to the stairs. They didn’t say much as they went down to the kitchen, Rafferty again following Helena because she seemed to know her way around this place.

Cindy’s mother greeted them in the kitchen, where she was nursing a cup of coffee and staring off before theywalked in.

“She’s going to come down, and we’re going to make French Toast if that’s alright,” Helena said.

The woman popped up from the stool that was pulled up to the kitchen island. “Oh, yes of course. Let me pull the griddle outfor you.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary,” Helena said, extending her hand to stop Ms. Hawthorn. “We’re actually going to do it in coffee mugs.”

“Coffee mugs?” Cindy’s mother repeated, blinking at the suggestion.

“Yeah, it was our favorite dorm meal,” Helena explained as she knelt in front of her bag, unzipping it. “I thought something like that would help ground her, you know, reconnect?”

“Oh, that’s really clever,” Ms. Hawthorne said, pressing her fingers to cheek as she shook her head at herself. “I forgot you two met in college. It seems like you’ve been friendsforever.”

“Cindy was my roommate all four years of undergrad, not after,” Helena said, directing the explanation toRafferty.

He knew the words, but felt like he was missing the context, or rather the modern context, of them.

Ms. Hawthorn nodded, “I know that’s right, but it doesn’t make sense to me. How can I be a mother of a grown woman.” She chuckled and redirected to pull down a set of over large mugs. “Would these work?”

“Oh wow, yes!” Helena said, surprised at the size of the mugs, which to Rafferty seemed like they were more akin to soup bowls.

“Do you need anything else?” the anxious mother asked. “We have bread and cinnamon. Syrup is in the fridge, and eggs. If you need anything I can run to the store.”

“No, no, all that’s great, it’s all we need. We’ll take care of the rest,” Helena said, then she set a hand on the poor woman’s shoulder. “Is there anything you want to go do? We’ll take care of her.”

There it was again. Theeeriefeeling.

Only this time Rafferty knew what it was. Her demonic aura was bleeding through her human disguise, but Helena didn’t seem to be aware of it. She was instinctively trying to influence the human before her. The little flashes of hungry gold popped in herblue eyes.

Cindy’s mother creased her eyebrows. Clearly, it was affecting her too, or maybe she had seen Helena’s eyesflashing.

Ms. Hawthorn backed away to press her fingers against the spot on her forehead some humans would call her third eye. To Rafferty, it was a sure sign she thought something else was affecting her sight. “I do need a break,” the older woman conceded. Her faux cheerful worry she had been using to mask her weariness dropped away.

“Yes, go ahead and take one. Everything is going to be better after this,” Helena pressed, a littletoo hard.

A shiver ran through Ms. Hawthorn; she flinched and backed away a few unsure steps. Her desire to escape the uncanny feeling warred with her understanding that this was her daughter’s friend, a person who should be safe. Someone she had known for years. She had no obvious, sensible reason to be unsettled by her or to mistrust her.

Helena’s eyebrows pinched a little at the mother’s odd shift. Still intent on her mission, Helena smiled encouragingly. “Go ahead and run some errands or whatever you need. We’ll take care of Cindy now.”

“No. No, that’s alright. I’m just going to finish my coffee,” Ms. Hawthorn said, reassuming her seat, before clearing her throat and dragging her eyes from Helena to the open paper on the counter before her.

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