Page 56 of Call Back

“What?”

“The business. What role do you want to play?” Her eyes held mine, showing no emotion.

“I’d like to be part of it,” I said. “I know I can’t cook worth crap, but I think there’s still a role for me.”

She nodded and a small grin lifted her lips. “I agree. You’ll take on that role tonight, and I’ll train you.”

“Okay . . .”

She seemed to have more energy as she opened the car door and strutted across the parking lot to the back door, but before she opened it, she turned back to me. “No one else knows about that house I brought you to.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“I know. But I still needed to say that. No one. No. One.”

I grinned despite myself. “I’m well aware that anyone and no one are synonymous in this instance. But don’t you think you should tell someone?”

“Who am I going to tell? Buying a house and storing paperwork in the basement isn’t exactly illegal.”

“But it’s mighty suspicious.”

She frowned. “We’ve got work to do.” Then she pushed open the door and walked into the kitchen, although it was obvious she wasn’t up to her usual energy level. Two of the kitchen help was already there—a young woman who was saving up money to go to culinary school and a middle-aged woman who had confessed to me the first week I started helping that she didn’t need the money. She was just bored. They were helping Tilly prepare tonight’s menu—some kind of chicken, accompanied by several vegetable options and, judging by the smell filling the room, Tilly’s homemade dinner rolls.

“Listen up,” Momma said in a booming voice. “Magnolia’s takin’ charge tonight.”

“What?” I gasped.

The kitchen staff grumbled, but the grin on Tilly’s face told me she was pleased. At least someone was happy.

Momma pulled a clipboard off its nail on the wall and handed it to me. “This is tonight’s menu. I’ll tell you how long each item takes to prepare, and you can write it down next to it. Tilly knows how to make sure everything’s done on time, but she much prefers the cooking while I like the managing.”

“You mean bossing people around,” Tilly said.

Momma shrugged with a glint in her eyes. “That too.”

I leaned close to Momma and whispered, “I can’t boss these people around.”

“Why the hell not?” Momma asked in a not-so-quiet voice.

“Because I don’t know what the heck I’m doing.”

“Well, you’re about to get a crash course.”

She wasn’t lying about the crash part. I spent the next half hour taking charge of the kitchen, preparing for tonight’s event—a church banquet in Brentwood. She told me what to do half the time but let me fumble through the rest. Colt walked in through the back door at five. He stopped and did a double take when he heard me telling one of the staff how to order the pans.

He stopped in his tracks. “Is it bring-your-daughter-to-work day and somebody let Magnolia pretend to be Lila?”

Tilly laughed. “Something like that.”

I shot him a glare, but couldn’t hold it for long. If he was teasing me, he must have gotten over his sullen mood.

Colt started loading the van, and once it was ready, we left the two women to clean up the kitchen. He and I rode together while Momma and Tilly took Tilly’s car. When we arrived at the church, the waitstaff had already begun setting up, but Momma had me take charge for the rest of the night. Part of it was that she wanted to train me, but I couldn’t help wondering if she was also too tired to do it herself. She spent a good portion of the night sitting in a chair against a wall, and I caught her dozing more often than not.

I made quite a few mistakes and pissed off the staff—not that I could blame them—but I’d started feeling more confident by the time we finished. As we started to load up the vans to go back to the catering office, Momma’s face beamed with pride. “You did well, Magnolia. Better than I expected.”

“Thanks, Momma.” Her approval meant a lot.

“Do you like doing it? I don’t want you doin’ this because you think it’s what I want. I want you to want it.”

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