I had not bothered with words of clarification or even apology. I just wheeled the trolley to the table, lifted each bowl, and placed it before each brownie.
I then placed individual platters next to them, and with a simple barely audible "welcome," I slowly pushed the trolley back to the heart of the kitchen.
All this time, my system hospitality guide had been blinking at the corner of my vision as it sent several warning alerts.
[Warning: Brownies are known to prefer honey. Your use of jam risks seriously upsetting your customers.]
Well, I ignored it completely. That was a risk I would have to take.
It felt like forever before I got back to the heart of the kitchen where Madam Arizona had now intensified her yells to her staff. When I reentered the safety of the kitchen center, I breathed out a sigh.
I had been expecting that by now screams would have erupted and a thick jam-stuffed loaf would be stuck on the back of my new caretaker jacket.
"Johan, if that lamb burns, you better shove yourself in that oven. What is with you and burning things?"
She then suddenly made a dash to a tiny gap between her counters and peeked toward our guests.
I also wanted to follow her. I was curious to see how things were panning out, but unlike her, I was too big to fit in those tiny spaces, and any clumsy attempt to peek around the shelf would almost certainly be detected.
"Johan! Eyes on the lamb!"
Poor Johan probably had his everything on the lamb already. You would too if the alternative was to shove yourself in an oven.
I assumed Madam Arizona was doing it just to keep her staff from prying at our guests like she was. That, or she knew Johan well enough to choose erring on the side of caution.
I decided it was both.
When she looked up from her peeking, she had a broad smile and bulging eyes of surprise. She lifted her small limbs and gave me a tiny thumbs up.
I quickly crouched next to her.
"They have already devoured the bread, sir," she whispered with a restrained snicker. "They are even licking their fingers."
I gave her a high five before crossing my fingers.
"Can you get me a towel and a basin of warm water?"
She nodded and went off to do it herself.
I allowed myself to sit on the pristine floor as simmering and frying pots sang around me.
If fate did not choose to spite me, I might just pull it off.
Madam Arizona was back almost instantly. She seemed to have everything stowed away and ready, waiting for someone to ask for it.
I wanted to ask her to take another peek and see if they were done with their milk, but she was already doing it.
She gave another smiley nod.
I gave it about a minute before pushing myself from the floor.
Grabbing the basin of warm water and the towel, I headed toward our guests.
Just from their welcoming faces, I could tell I had not fallen far off the mark.
One of them, the grumpy third brownie, had already worn his mittens with sticky fingers and all when he saw the towel and the basin.
"Oh by all goods, so much help that will do me now."
His voice was not as hostile as earlier, and he mostly sounded like he was having regrets not waiting.
He could have just taken them off and cleaned his hands, but he just sat there watching with regret as the other two twisted and wiggled their small hands until they had their satisfaction.
I then held the towel and waited as they took their time drying off.
"By all goods, sir, this is the happiest we have been served our entire life," the first one said, using the stepping stool to get down from the seat.
"I told you we would serve you well. Thank you for staying," I said rashly, not trusting myself not to go overboard.
"That you did good, sir. And ma'am, your bread is a real work of art."
I turned to see Madam Arizona standing right behind me, beaming irresistibly at our guests.
She bowed at them, and so did they.
"I must say, I never thought jam was that good with bread. Now that I think about it, honey is a bit too aggressive."
This statement coming from the grumpy one meant more than the rest. Still, I resisted the urge to thank him and send him back to his hostile path.
"If I may, ma'am, I heard you were looking for brownies to hire?"
Madam Arizona gave me a quick questioning look. I did not know where this was going, but I nodded.
"Certainly," she said warmly. "It would make my work here ten times easier not having to back orders. JOHAN! The lamb!" she screamed toward the staff.
Now even I could catch the smell of something burning. I was certain she had been doing the scolding out of experience.
"That it would," the lead brownie said, stepping forward. "We do not know of one who is currently not attached to a home, but we will keep our ears open for you. However, we can do something little to help."
The lead brownie waited until the two others had joined it before they grabbed each other's hands.
"We bless your kitchen. May your tools always resemble the beauty of your service to us."
They had barely finished speaking when suddenly the kitchen was glittering with brightness.
All the silver utensils and pots that had gone dull with overuse now looked as good as new. The countertops and shelves sparkled like they had just been polished. Even the dirty utensils that had just arrived from the hall had now cleaned and arranged themselves.
For a second, I thought Madam Arizona was going to throw herself at the brownies in an embrace, but she instead bowed as low as she could, with tears playing dangerously in her eyes.
"I do not know how to thank you."
The lead brownie waved it off. "Your service has. And now, sir, ma'am, we will not take more of your busy time. We are overjoyed to see Midstreet is back and with more life than before."
With that, they stepped away from the kitchen and began to climb the stairs.
Madam Arizona waited until she heard the door open before tugging at me.
"You did it, sir," she said, looking at her sparkling kitchen.
"No. We did it."
She gave another teary smile, like she could not believe they had been saved the troubles of dishwashing.
"Heavens," I sighed in apparent relief. "I almost killed them with jam."