Page 30 of Chaos

23

Eris

The new girlSam hired for the part-time position was quickly catching onto our routines. Once fully trained, she’d be covering the shifts left open by everyone’s vacation time. I’d shown her all of the tricks that every server should know. Currently, the ketchup and steak sauce lids were soaking in a container of scalding hot water to remove the residue from them, and we’d already wiped the excess from the tops of the bottles. Even though it wasn’t closing time, I helped her break down one of the fountain machines and a tea dispenser to teach her how to properly sanitize and reassemble them. She impressed even Sam when she switched out the pop syrup in the box like a pro. I had to say she really was doing great, and Sam may have finally hired someone worthwhile.

Her biggest mistake was choosing to wear such a nice top. Sam didn’t give anyone a uniform top until you were out of your trial period, which varied from person to person. He lost money in the past by doing the opposite and giving new employees tops that they never returned, as they didn’t either.

Her second mistake was walking into the exit door of the kitchen without yelling, “Wrong door.” It was a known fact in the food industry you needed to announce your error or you might end up colliding with someone else.

Maki returned from vacation today, and she was notorious for heeding the directions of the doors as gospel. She never looked to see if someone was using the wrong door. The rest of us tended to share our love of misdirection and just looked before leaving or entering the kitchen. Not Maki.

No amount of warning from my part could stop Maki’s hot plate of Gator on a Log, Sam’s version of an open-faced roast beef dish, from crashing with Desiree’s pale pink blouse.

“Watch out!” rippled from my mouth in such a shrill tone I didn’t recognize my own voice. I tried to save her blouse—it wasn’t something I would wear, it was too pink and feminine, but I still hated to see it ruined.

Mashed potatoes and gravy clung to the thin fabric, and some had even gotten on her face and hair. It was as if someone had taken the liberty of hitting the mute button on a gigantic remote because no sounds left anyone’s mouth in the diner. My eyes, like every other set in here, stopped on Desiree, awaiting her upcoming meltdown.

We’d seen this happen many times before with new employees; most left immediately after. Hence, Sam losing money on uniform tops. Gretchen’s dish was spaghetti. Mine was Chicken Alfredo. We’d been the only two that stayed after wearing Maki’s “accidental” plate of food. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Maki had always done it on purpose. It was her way of weeding out the weak.

Desiree’s tongue slid outward and circled her lips, cleaning the food surrounding them from her skin. They then puffed out into their fullness as she smiled in satisfaction. I cocked my head in confusion and raised an eyebrow as I glanced through the doorway and into the back of the house at Ray. He swirled his finger inches away from his temple, indicating what he’d told me earlier this morning before Desiree arrived.

“She’s crazy. I’m telling you, girl,” he whispered as she went into the office with Sam to fill out paperwork. He stirred the ingredients for biscuits around in a gigantic metal bowl and set it to the side, prepping the biscuit pans by brushing a mixture of butter and bacon grease onto them. If you were looking for healthy food, Dad’s Skillet wasn’t the right place for you. However, if you wanted to taste the best food your mouth had ever gotten a chance to eat, Dad’s Skillet was the perfect place for you to dine.

“You don’t know that,” I said just to defy what he was saying, when in all honesty, I didn’t care either way. Using an oven mitt, I placed the pans into the double deck oven, closing the door after all six pans were on a shelf.

“I do. Eyes show people’s souls, and that one has a wickedness behind hers,” his deep voice warned as he pinched his fingertips together and flung them fully open, releasing a tiny bit of flour into the air. Ray was very superstitious. He claimed it to be his natural Creole roots that made him more sensitive to things than other people. I knew better. He was just overly dramatic, but if he weren’t, he wouldn’t be Ray.

We argued back and forth until she was in earshot and returning to my side for more training.

He nodded his head at me through the open space and nodded toward Desiree, who continued to hold the entire diner’s attention. The fact she didn’t freak out only confirmed his suspicions. At least in his mind it did. It did nothing for me. After all, Maki’s plate hadn’t sent me running out the door either.

“That’s some damn good gator,” Desiree announced, elongating each word, and looked up into the mirror no one used and usually forgot it was even there. Sam added a mirror above the walkway to prevent situations like this from happening after the last “new girl” threatened to sue the diner.

“You’re right, Raymond Landry. I’m crazy,” she called him out on the actions we’d thought he’d only shared with me. My eyes widened. She was ballsy, and I liked it, but it made me a little uneasy, too. There was no way someone who’d only been on the shift for three and a half hours would know his last name. Just as I almost began to give in to Sam’s superstitions, Desiree debunked them.

“But, I’m no crazier than I was when we dated in high school.” She laughed, biting her lip and shooting a hateful glare to him over her shoulder as she bent down to help Maki clean the mess off of the floor. I shook my head in disbelief in Ray’s general direction. I guess he had told the truth when he said he knew she was crazy. I was too busy arguing with him to listen to the rest of his story.

This had proven to be more than enough excitement for one day. After the initial shock wore off, everyone seemed to go on business as usual. The pencil’s lead formed a circle, and then I numbered each seat around the table I’d drawn. Thankfully, she knew what I was drawing. Otherwise, it would appear I was teaching her to count with shapes. We went through the ordering number system again, and it seemed she understood it pretty well.

“Seat one is always the customer to your left and so on,” she repeated my words, nodding her head and shoving the diagram into her black book. If you always paired your orders with the correct numbers, anyone could run your food to a table and serve it to the right person versus standing at the table and “auctioning” off each plate. After securing the book into the pocket of her apron, she wrapped the black material around it and swirled the straps around that to ensure the contents’ safety.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked, hopefulness sang outward from her words.

“Nope. Maki’s got you the rest of the week.” I fumbled with my keys and they dropped onto the floor with a clank. “Besides,” I bent down and retrieved them, looping my index finger through the keychain, “I’m off for three.”

“Damn. Maki.” Her lips smacked together and her tongue clicked. “That woman has it out for me,” she voiced her concerns and threw her apron into her glittery bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

“That’s just Maki,” I pointed out the obvious. Maki never made anything easy on anyone. She didn’t believe in it. She was the oldest employee at Dad’s Skillet, other than Sam. In reality, she just expected everyone to do his or her job, so it didn’t leave your responsibilities onto someone else. As long as you did that, you’d get along with Maki, and may even like her. Personally, I had learned to love Maki and all of her ways over the years I’d worked here. She would tell stories at closing time on the evenings that business was on the slower side of how the diner used to be so popular a line of patrons would wrap around the block. As she told the stories, her eyes sparkled with pride. It was clear it was those memories that she held most dear to her heart.

The first person I thought of when I was thinking of the diner was, of course, Drex. That would never change, as he stuck out of our hospitality like a sore thumb. It was hard not to see the contrast Drex brought into every aspect of my life, but I was the only one who saw the heartache we shared, even if I didn’t know what the cause behind his was. I didn’t need to. I could tell he had suffered more than his share of pain.

The very roots of the diner had grown from Sam and Lorene. They’d brought a certain warmth to Blackwell that always reminded me of home. After my mind thought of them, it always passed to Maki. She was one of the first employees Lorene and Sam hired. She knew everything there was to know about the restaurant business. She could tell you tips and tricks, like making cocktail sauce out of horseradish and ketchup if it was a busy night and you ran out or the cocktail sauce wouldn’t arrive until the next shipment of the food truck. To me, this was something only a seasoned server would know. I never understood why she hadn’t opened her own restaurant, but I had never asked either.

My mood was better than it had been in some time, and I knew it was mostly because of Drex, but today was entertaining as well. Switching the radio onto a generic station, I drove home and hummed along with the music, pretending to know what was playing. I didn’t, so eventually, I sang my own words.

* * *

Mom texted three simple words,“I love you,” and I don’t know what changed in me, but I texted them back to her. It was the first time in years I’d replied, and I didn’t know how she’d react. I bit down on the tip of my finger waiting for her response, figuring my phone would be ringing any second.

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