The bell rang and Mr. Claus yelled from the office that their food was there.
“Come out here and get it yourself,” said Mrs. Claus.
Their office was on San Pablo Avenue in Berkeley right between a brick and mortar Indian/Mexican takeout (Viva India!) that did brisk business and a comic book store on the other side that had moved from a larger location on a busier street. She ate an Aloo Gobi burrito for lunch each day and knew those neighbors quite well. She had never bought a comic book and wasn’t sure how the other neighbor stayed in business. And she didn’t have the heart to ask the owner, who seemed pleasant and very much into his hobby.
She was getting used to the new arrangement with an office and being full time in Berkeley but damned if she was going to service Mr. Claus like one of the secretaries from a black and white movie.
“Darling, you should get a move on. That homeless dude is making his way toward the food bag,” she said loudly and having trouble keeping a straight face.
Mr. Claus came out rubbing his hands in anticipation of his meal and opened the door. He snatched his sushi order, which was in a large brown paper bag, and closed the door again.
“Hey, I didn’t see Ken. He isn’t out here today. He must be out by the Seabreeze.”
Mr. Claus had gotten acquainted with the homeless person who spent a lot of time outside of Viva India and she had her suspicions that he probably kept Ken on his feet.
“Seabreeze- you say it like it’s a beach hotel and he took Barbie out there in the Corvette. They cleared out the encampment by the Seabreeze so maybe he moved to Oakland,” Mrs. Claus said snidely.
Before Mr. Claus could answer the doorbell rang again. Mr. Claus looked over at Mrs. Claus, who shrugged their shoulders. The whole storefront was made of wood and only contained windows at the top and a small one at person height in the door. They had given it a fresh coat of blue paint and decorated it outside with planters when they moved in last summer. Mr. Claus walked over to the door and looked through the window.
He turned back to Mrs. Claus and said, “I think we have a customer.”
“That will break the monotony,” said Mrs. Claus with a smile.
Mr. Claus opened the door and said, “Aardvark Detective Services.”
A blonde-haired woman that was slight of build and had fair features stepped into the front room of the office and nodded her head to Mr. Claus. She was wearing cotton tie-dyed pants with a loose fitting white t-shirt and had her hair done up in a bun.
“Welcome in dear,” said Mrs. Claus.
“Aardvark?” she asked as the first thing.
“Yeah, so we’ll be first in the book,” said Mr. Claus, still very proud of his choice of name for their new business.
“But, Google,” said the woman before she was interrupted by Mrs. Claus, who didn’t want to spoil her husband’s happiness. At least not at the moment.
“Yes. We think it adds a touch of adventure,” said Mrs. Claus.
“Oh, okay,” said the woman.
