take over the family business which was not fun.” His easy smile slips into a frown and a dark look crosses over his eyes from whatever bad memories he’s reliving.

“So you became a wizard to like spite him or something?” I ask trying to draw his thoughts back to here and now.

He looks up and for moment he seems confused before a laugh bursts from his lips. “No, the family business is wizardry.” He admits.

My brain fritz out at this news. How can wizardry be a family business? I can understand stage magic or maybe gypsy psychics or something like that, but a family of wizards? It’s absurd. Before I can dig into this information properly though we’re interrupted by our waiter bringing our plates of food.

The waiter sets everything down and reminds us that if we need anything else we can just ask and Ray amicably says that we will before starting his story again. “So my dad was very insistent that I learn wizardry to take over the family business,” He starts as he pours syrup over a short stack of pancakes, “but I eventually got fed up with him.” He admits. “He wasn’t a very nice person.” I try to imagine Ray as a kid being forced to learn wizard stuff from his father, but the only thing I can picture is Mickey Mouse in Fantasia as the little mouse tries to control a bunch of mops and brooms. It’s just so ridiculous, but I try not to show my thoughts on my face and instead focus on my own pancakes. “I was 23 when he passed away.” Ray continues. He drops this information as if it means nothing, but I’m so startled by this news that I start choking on my food.

“What?” I manage to squeak out in surprise. Both of his parents are dead?

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“Oh yeah.” He says, but waves off my surprise, “After my father died I was left in a kind of predicament. I, under no circumstance, wanted to take over my father’s business, but the thing was that I really had nothing else. I tried working as other things, but none of it just felt right, you know?” Ray shakes his head, “It took me a long time before I finally began to understand…” He stops for a moment and I watch him carefully, “Well,” he restarts, “it took me a long time to separate my feelings for my father from my feelings for the craft to say the least. And that” he concludes, “is how I ended up opening up my own wizard shop and using the craft in my own way. If my father could see me now though he’d probably die of another heart attack.” Ray admits before shoving a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.

I find myself staring at him in a kind of daze. Complicated? That whole story is so strange. What type of father forces their kid to learn magic? I find myself picturing an old man wearing silk robes and velvet ascots while shambling around with some type of ornate cane. It doesn’t at all match up with the man sitting in front of me with the playful eyes and syrup dribbling down his chin. And what did he mean about using the craft in his own way? Is there more than one way to practice wizard magic? Isn’t it all just pointy hats and chanting over crystal balls? I try to picture Ray in a wizard’s robe and find myself internally giggling at the image my brain conjures up. But the strangest thing has to be that the whole story had been delivered in such a serious way. Without a doubt Ray believes what he’s saying. A full grown adult not only believing in magic, but believing that he can do magic.

“So what about you?” He asks interrupting my thoughts.

“Me?” What about me? I don’t believe in magic if that’s what he’s asking. I don’t know if I should tell him that though.

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“Why’d you become a coroner?” He asks with a smile.

Oh, “I became a coroner because…” I trail off as I think about it, “well I guess that story is also a bit complicated.” I find myself saying.

“Fair’s fair.” He says pointedly as he takes another mouthful of pancakes.

I roll my eyes, “Uh, well both of my parents are doctors.” I start, “And they wanted me to be a doctor as well, but…” But then I came out as trans and the whole world imploded on itself.

“Did they get on your nerves about it too?” He asks with his mouth still full.

I nod, “Yeah, I guess you could say that. In the end I had a medical degree and all of the certifications to be a doctor, but zero interest to work in a hospital.”

“So you ended up working in a morgue instead. Fun.”

I laugh, “It’s not that bad.” And it’s not. At least I get to help families find closure after they’ve lost someone.

He smirks, “Neither is magic.” He says it in such a way as if he knows what I had been thinking earlier which makes my face redden again. I quickly look down and distract myself with food. “I guess our stories aren’t so different after all though.” Ray speaks up after a moment of silence. “We’re both the apples of our parents’ eyes.” He says with full sarcasm.

I snort and almost start choking on pancakes again. If my mom and dad could see me now, they’d be shaking their heads in disdain. They insist that I’m wasting my potential.

Thankfully I think we both silently agree that we’ve shared enough personal information and the rest of the conversation drifts towards more mundane and unimportant topics like the weather and favorite movies.