Page 13 of Life of the Party

Stunned silence followed.

Someone scoffed, and I can’t be sure, but I think it was Blake. Dick.

“What?” I asked in amazement. “What? You told me to get a job, so I got one.”

“Well…” Dad shook his head. “That wasn’t exactly the job I had in mind.”

“What job did you have in mind? The kind that pays money? This is one of those.”

“I just thought …” he trailed off.

“You don’t want a job at the hospital? It won’t be a problem. I’ll call right now—”

“Mom! Stop! I don’t want your damn hospital job.” I got up from my seat. “You guys are friggin’ impossible.”

But there was a smile on my face as I strode up the stairs back to my room.

CHAPTER 5

It smelled like hot oil and musty cloths. Like pizza sauce and spices and strong brewed coffee. Like descaler and mop water and Italian salad dressing.

I stood hesitantly at the entrance to the waitress area, overwhelmed by the pungent aromas as I waited for Sophie, who had just disappeared through a set of swinging doors into hectic chaos beyond.

She’d promised to show me the ropes, her arms laden with plates on her way to the dish pit—like six plates between two arms. I wondered if I’d ever be able to do that. And if I’d have to pay for the plates I broke.

As I waited, I looked around the seating area. The Red Wheat was a family-style restaurant—famous in town for its extensive menu and generous portions. The carpet was a faded burgundy and hunter-green combination of swirls and flowers; the walls were covered in white-sprigged wallpaper framed by oak woodwork, and green-padded wooden chairs surrounded the burgundy-topped tables. It was homey and comforting, and most of the seats were filled with patrons. I took that as a good sign.

“Okay.” Sophie emerged then, smiling quickly and wiping her hands on her soiled black apron. “Sorry to make you wait. I don’t know why Roger always insists the new people come during the supper rush. It’s really inconvenient, but I suppose it’s a fast way to learn…” Her speech trailed off, and she was moving again, whisking around the restaurant, taking orders, clearing plates, refilling coffee. I followed close behind, feeling awkward and out of place, trying to keep up as she explained menu choices and order writing and how to make the most efficient use of our time.

When we returned to the waitress station, there was another girl there, tall and blonde and pretty, leaning on the counter and talking to one of the cooks through the long, narrow window where food orders were placed.

“Hello, Charlotte.” Sophie frowned in greeting.

Charlie straightened to acknowledge us, flipping her wild curly hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, hey, Soph. Oh, hey—I remember you.” She gave me a little smile. “Mackenzie, right?”

“That’s me. And you’re…Charlotte?” I grinned pointedly.

“Charlie.” She corrected.

“I’m glad you two know each other.” Even then, Sophie didn’t stop moving. She placed her order and went to the fridge to make a salad.

“Mackenzie, I need two large Pepsi, please. Charlotte, you’re late.”

“Sorry, Soph. What can I do?”

“Table seventeen needs ketchup, and table nineteen needs a refill. Are you sure that outfit is work-appropriate?” Sophie paused, taking in Charlie’s ensemble, and I looked over mid-Pepsi-pour to get a good look as well. She had on tight black capris and cute strappy sandals, with a white halter-top deep cut down the front. She looked really, really good, but not like a waitress. I looked down at myself, dressed in nice black pants, black skate shoes and a long-sleeved striped green Henley—and felt bland in comparison.

“What’s the matter with my clothes?” Charlie asked.

Sophie shook her head and raised an eyebrow. “It’s not for me to say. Let Roger tell you if he has a problem with it.” She scoffed, turning to me. “We don’t have uniforms here, Mackenzie.” She advised. “You can wear whatever you want,tastefully,mind you. Keep in mind, whatever you wear will be ruined eventually.”

I smiled. Perfect. Another use for the clothes my mother bought me.

I spent the rest of the night trying to avoid Charlie. I didn’t want to get stuck alone with her, forced to make polite conversation. I followed Sophie like a shadow until she left us to close up.

She did look worn—her thin dark hair falling loose from her ponytail, her eyes smudged with fatigue, her narrow face peaked. She smiled at me before she left.

“You did good tonight, Mackenzie. If I didn’t have to be here first thing tomorrow, I’d stay and teach you some more. You show promise, though. Remember, only two free refills, right?”

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