Page 18 of Saving Bonnie

“Let me finish that for you.” Manny takes the plate and adds a helping of rice.

“Thanks, Manny.” Relieved, I grab a towel to wipe off my hands. This is getting to be a bit much.

“Bonnie, if you want, I can bring my kid in to help,” he offers without looking over. “He knows his way around the kitchen.”

“Don’t you come here to get away from your kids?” I shoot back with a quick smile. Truthfully, I’m not sure I’m ready to have someone else come in. Especially someone’s family member.

“Thought I’d offer…” His mumbled reply drifts off.

I don’t blame Manny for offering. As the only full-time cook, he’s the one taking the brunt of the kitchen work. I pop in and out, and little Noah delivers food and buses tables. For a place running seven days a week for breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner, we don’t have enough staff. Yet the reality is, in a couple of weeks I may have to decide whether I need to shut down. How will this affect him and Noah, never mind bringing his kid in?

Sending a prayer to the heavens, I give in. “Why don’t you have him come by tomorrow morning, and we’ll talk. Maybe we can bring him in…for a week or two.”

Manny glances over his shoulder, losing the stiffness in his posture. “You’ll like my kid, Bonnie.” I guess I hadn’t paid attention. Likely he can use the extra help at work and a few bucks into the household.

Pushing open the door, I head into the dining area. “I’m sure I will.” My tummy tightens up just the same. Goodness, how am I going to tell him if we have to close?

When I head behind the counter, I nearly miss a step. “Hello, Olga.”

“Bonnie.” Olga’s tone is dismissive. “I have an order with Erica.” She tosses her bleached hair as she glances toward the kitchen.

Now I really miss my cousin. She was always the buffer, attending to Olga herself so nobody else had to deal with her nasty personality.

“I don’t remember seeing anything for you.”Or I’d likely be dreading your arrival.

“I’ll wait on Erica,” Olga insists, dismissing me.

“She’s not working here anymore,” I announce, cutting the conversation short to avoid questions. “Whose name is on the order?”

“What?” Olga stiffens. “Since when?” She goes pale under the layers of makeup.

“A few days ago.”

“And Sergio?” she continues, ignoring my question.

“He’s gone also.” We’re getting curious glances from several customers. Not just because she’s wearing gaudy clothes a size too small. Noah comes through to serve the plates I left Manny, breaking the tension.

“What did you order, Olga? I don’t have your name on the to-go tickets,” I ask again.

“No.” She shakes her head, eyes going unfocused. “I-I don’t have one.”

“I’m sorry?” I frown, confused at what she wants. “Didn’t you say you ordered with Erica?”

“I…um…I’d texted her,” she explains, gathering her wits. “But if she’s not here, then she couldn’t have placed the order.”

“Ah.” I reach for a pad and pen. “I can fix some plates for you.”

“No need.” She raises her chin. “I’m in a hurry.”

I’m half relieved she’s leaving. Olga isn’t exactly welcome, but I’m in no position to turn away a paying customer. Though now that I learned Erica was taking orders on her personal cell, I’m concerned. How many angry customers will we have in the next few days?

“Do you know where I can find her?” She tacks on a smile.

“Why?” What could she possibly need?

“She-she owes me money,” Olga confesses. “She and Sergio do.”

I paste on a sympathetic smile. “Oh. Well, I’m afraid we haven’t spoken.” Meanwhile, I’m trying to hold back the bile crawling up my throat. How could Erica borrow money from this woman? Part of me is afraid to look around and find someone else has gone pale, knowing she’s gone. How could she go to a customer? Granted, Olga stayed at Iris’s house, across the street from both my aunt and mom. Still…

---