Blind to Beauty

Chapter Thirteen

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.” ― Jim Henson

     Sunday morning was slow and lazy. Lacey had decided to spend the night with me so I wouldn’t have to be alone. We hadn’t gotten back home until after eleven at night, and I had fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. It had been an exciting and eventful Saturday and I hoped that I would get the chance to have a day just as nice as it again.

     When I woke up Sunday Lacey was already downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast; her famous cinnamon French toast. I could smell the cinnamon from my bedroom and hurriedly pulled on my robe and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

     “Finally you’re up!” she exclaimed, placing a plate of French toast stacked twelve pieces high in the middle of the table. “I thought I was going to have to send Casper and Seamoore in there to wake you up!”

    I gave her a look of confusion. Casper and Seamoore? Why would she be sending them up to my room. They weren’t here, right? I hadn’t remembered inviting them over.

    “I invited them for breakfast I hope you don’t mind,” she continued and got some orange juice from the fridge, “I figured it was the least we could do since they paid for dinner last night.”

     “Oh okay,” I said, my brain to fuzzy from sleep to argue.

     I sat down at the table, sitting cross-legged in the chair and reached for a piece of French toast and put it on the plate that sat in front of me. I scooped some butter onto my knife and spread it over the bread.

     “So where are they?” I asked Lacey, after taking a bite of the delicious French toast.

     “Outside,” she said, pouring some juice into my glass.

     “What are they doing outside?” I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

     “There was a storm last night,” she began, “and some branches broke off that older than the bible tree of yours, so they’re just cleaning up your front yard a bit. They’ll be here in a minute.”

     I just nodded and continued to eat, staring out the window above the kitchen sink. I could see the front yard was covered I branches, leaves and many other things that the storm had blown around. The spring leaves that were just beginning to reach their full size were now scattering the ground. Looks like there wouldn’t be much shade on my front porch this year.

     The sound of the front door swinging open caught my attention and I heard the loud complaints of Casper fill the house. Seamoore was grunting in reply to him. Casper seemed to be complaining about how heavy some of the branches were while Seamoore just said he was out of shape. Which then had Casper get into a huge lecture about how he didn’t have time to work out like Seamoore did.

     “You guys hungry?” Lacey called to them, as she took a seat next to me.

     “Are we ever!” Casper shouted back and walked into the kitchen. His tall 6’3 frame filling the entrance, Seamoore peeking out from behind him.

     “What’d you make?” Seamoore asked, walking in behind Casper and slowly feeling his way along the table until he found a seat.

     “Cinnamon French toast,” Lacey smiled, “I make the best.”

     “Don’t be so modest,” Casper laughed and took the last empty chair and threw two pieces of French toast on his plate.

     Breakfast was eaten with Casper and Lacey making up most of the conversation. I listened as did Seamoore. I’d butt in every now and then telling Lacey that she was wrong about something.