Shem Creek (16 page)

The phone started ringing. First, a waitress called in sick. Then, a dishwasher called in sick. By the time everyone was supposed to be in for the start of the lunch shift, we were short three people. I called Mimi.

“Hey! I’m in an awful pinch. The help is like . . . dropping like
flies
around here and I need waiters and dishwashers on the double. Where are the girls?”

“Sleeping. Wait! Here’s Gracie! Gracie, come here, honey. Your momma wants to talk to you.”

“What? I just woke up.”

It was the gravel voice of my darling daughter.

“Gracie! I need your help!”

“What?”

“I’m short dishwashers and waiters all over the place! I need you and Lindsey to come down and help me, so get dressed, wash—”

“You want to eat?”

Silence.

“You want spending money?”

Silence.

“I have
plans,
Mom. You can’t just
call
me like this and wreck my day!”

“
Yes,
I can.
But,
I’m not wrecking your day. I’m making you a better person by giving you the chance to help your mother and I
know
that’s what you want to do!”

“Fine.”

Mimi took the phone at that point.

“So?” she said.

“Yank Lindsey out of bed, stuff a Pop-Tart in their mouths, clean them up, get them over here as fast as you can and I’ll be your slave.”

“No problem. Consider it done!”

“And if Gracie wears shorts, make sure her little behind isn’t hanging out, please?”

“Are you kidding? Don’t even worry about
that
for a second!”

When Lindsey and Gracie arrived with Mimi thirty minutes later, Gracie had left her attitude in the car and Lindsey and Mimi wanted to work too. Mimi must have given them the dickens on the way to the restaurant.

“How much?” Gracie said, money being the first concern on her mind.

“Depends,” I said, “you wash dishes, you get minimum wage. You wait tables you get the minimum and tips. You bus tables you get minimum wages plus a tip from the waiters.”

“I’m waiting tables,” Mimi said. “I’ve always wanted to do that! Oh! Y’all! I’m so
excited!
I can’t wait!”

“You’ll get over it,” I said. “How about you two?”

“What’s the easiest?” Gracie said.

“Bussing.”

“I’m bussing.”

“Lindsey?”

“I wanna be the hostess,” she said.

“We have a hostess,” I said.

“Okay, then, um, okay . . . I’ll wash dishes, I guess. You need a dishwasher too, right?”

“Bless your heart, honey!” Mimi said.

“Yeah,
right!
” Gracie said in exquisite Jersey-ese, switching to redneck southern in her next breath. “Her brain’s so teensy-weensy, that if you put it on the head of a pin, it would roll around like a bowling ball,
bless her heart!
”

Then even I had to laugh. Gracie
doing southern
was something to behold. At least she was approaching it from a humorous angle and the good Lord only knew how much humor we were going to need to survive the next few days.

My prissy sister, Mimi, a waitress? Skinny little Gracie bussing tables? And the long-suffering Lindsey washing mountains of dishes? I got on the intercom and called Louise. Not one of my recruits would listen to me on how to do their jobs. But they wouldn’t dare cross Louise!

LOUISE and I were waiting for Brad to appear. He called us from his house at Simmons Pointe, where he had just dropped off Lupe, his Costa Rican housekeeper. Bringing Lupe back from Atlanta was an intelligent decision for many reasons. It was tragic enough that Alex had suddenly lost his mother, and in such a catastrophic circumstance. Losing a parent was horrible at any age, but for a young man of fifteen it was especially saddening. And naturally, there was a considerable difference between Brad and Alex on the feelings they held for Loretta. I suppose Alex loved his mother as any child normally does and Brad, well, it was easy to imagine that his emotions ran the gamut from complicated grief to guilt-ridden hatred.

The inclusion of Lupe was given the nod of consent by Louise and me on that morning, long before we laid one eye on her. We wanted to like her because we liked Brad. Alex had suffered the worst week of his life and Lupe represented normality. She could help Brad settle Alex into his new life. And, if she decided to stay, she could keep his house neat, drive Alex wherever he needed to go and keep an eye on him too. I was a little jealous because I’d never had a housekeeper, but I did have Mimi and she was already onto Gracie’s whereabouts and social plans like shrink-wrap.

We were discussing all these things while having a cup of coffee at the bar with O’Malley.

“Don’t you know Brad’s been through hell the past few days?” I said.

“Let’s just hope his child’s grieving isn’t too terrible,” Louise said. “I lost my momma when I was sixteen and there’s never a day that I haven’t missed her and wished I could bring her back.”

“Yeah,” I said, in full agreement, “but don’t you know this is some kind of soup because Brad wasn’t exactly in love with Loretta anymore. It might be hard for him to be sympathetic with Alex, right?”

“Don’t assume to know a man’s heart,” O’Malley said, “sometimes they show one thing but feel another.”

“You are too right!” Louise said. “But at least we can say that we held this place together while he was gone.”

“Well, I just hope that when he walks through that door, that he realizes he owes you a kidney and me half his liver!” I said to Louise.

“Humph. He ain’t gone realize
nothing,
honey! He’s a man!”

“Ahem!” O’Malley said, clearing his throat. “Ladies? He did just bury his estranged wife, ladies. Have a heart.”

“Sorry, O’Malley, you’re right,” I said. “But you have to say that my sister gets the award for most bizarre waitress of the year! Who knew she could calculate fat grams and carbohydrates in her head?”

“Who knew she would tell the customers?” O’Malley said.

“Well, at least she was
polite,
” Louise said. “And I thought for sure that Gracie would be dropping dishes everywhere with those little chicken arms she’s got, but she’s
strong!
And, you had better shush your mouth, talking about your family like that! Are they coming to work today?”

“Just Gracie. Mimi is taking Lindsey to get her hair cut! She wants her to have a good haircut to start school. What that really means is that Mimi thinks a good haircut will help her get a good boyfriend.”

“Lindsey ain’t gonna have no trouble whatsoever! I think she can have any boy she wants.”

“Well, she’s very smart and that threatens a lot of boys, but the funny thing is that Lindsey could already have had boyfriends and I never would have known it. She’s very private.”

“Good for her!” O’Malley said.

“Gracie is
so
jealous but you know Mimi will do something good for Gracie if she can behave herself for five minutes. And, Gracie says she’s sick of carrying trays. She wants to wait tables. So what do you think? Think she’s old enough, Louise?”

“No, she ain’t
old
enough, but she’s got
nerve
enough,” Louise said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” O’Malley said. “What do you think she said to me Saturday night?”

“There ain’t
no
telling,” I said.

“Well, the place is packed and I’m serving drinks right and left. It was about eight-thirty and I’ve got one of the waitresses—that girl, Erica? The one who goes to Winthrop College?”

“Yeah, yeah, we know her—the one with the long hair all fluffed out crazy like a Renaissance portrait, right?”

“Right. She’s helping me . . .”

“She’s as thick as a post,” Louise said.

“True, but most of the dinner crowd is finishing up but the bar is getting wild and Gracie comes by with a bin of dirty dishes and says,
Hey! O’Malley! Come here!
She’s calling me over like I’m her
friend
or something.”

“Maybe she thinks you are,” Louise said.

“She knows better,” O’Malley said, “I’m old enough to be her father! Anyway, I say,
What is it, kid?
and she says,
Look, I get a buck from the waiters when I clear their tables, wipe it down and carry all their nasty dishes back to the kitchen. You get a buck for just pouring a beer. So, if you need help, let me know. I can dump this bussing gig with no problem.
So, I said,
If you serve liquor, we lose our liquor license, honey. You’re underage.
Does this kid have some guts or what?”

“That kid of mine! I’ll tell y’all this—she’s the one who’s gonna make my hair fall out one of these days.”

“She’s as cute as a bug,” Louise said. “I got one like her. She’s grown now and got three children! I thought I would never live to see the day.”

“Listen, when Gracie goes into labor, I’m going to Canada! Married? I can’t even imagine who on earth . . .”

“Would have the courage to take on Gracie?” O’Malley said, laughing.

“Pretty much,” I said and turned around to see Gracie standing there, furious, having heard everything.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, spinning on her heels, heading for the kitchen.

“Ah, shoot,” I said, “busted! Thanks, O’Malley! Good job watching my back!”

“Hey! She knows you were kidding.”

“Bull! She’s got a temper like all the furies in hell!”

“I’ll go see about her, Miss Linda, and assign her a wait section. That should cheer her up.” Louise stood up from the bar stool, winked at me and followed Gracie into the kitchen.

“Where would the world be without Louise Waring?” I said.

“In the sewer,” O’Malley said.

It was after eleven in the morning and people were starting to arrive for early lunch. Connie, the hostess on duty that morning, seated the first few people and gave them menus. Louise came back through the swinging doors, pushing Gracie with gentle taps on her back.

“Go on, now,” she said, “and wait on those people. Remember the soup special is tomato basil and the special pasta is angel hair with shrimp. . . .”

“I know, I know—with a light creamy tomato sauce and the sandwich special is fried grouper, right?”

“Right,” Louise said, “with a small house salad.”

Gracie scowled at me when she passed but I could tell she was over it.

I looked up and saw Brad coming through the door, and on impulse I went to him and gave him a huge hug. Poor devil.

“You okay?” I said. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks. Yeah, I’m okay.”

In just about the time it took Gracie to leave the customers and arrive to the point where we were standing by the reception desk, Alex appeared with an old basset hound on a leather leash. Gracie took one look at Alex and nearly dropped dead. Alex was gorgeous. He was tall with black spiky hair and deep blue eyes. Alex was a refugee from the pages of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. Slack-jawed Gracie had been smacked upside her hard head by Cupid’s arrow. I grabbed her by the arm to introduce her to Brad and she did not resist.

“Brad? This is my daughter Gracie. She’s helping out until three of our waiters and one of our dishwashers return to work.”

“Hi, Gracie. This is my boy, Alex. He’s going to be living with me and probably going to school with you. And that’s Bogart, our best friend,” Brad said. “What happened? Did we have a mutiny?”

Alex and Gracie bent down to pet Bogart and made some small talk, during which Gracie actually had the poise to offer condolences for the loss of his mother.

“No mutiny—there was a three-day rock festival out at Charles Towne Landing that coincided with an alleged stomach virus and we’re expecting the return of the crew sometime today. Meanwhile, my daughters and my sister have been doing the heavy lifting. No big deal. We’re just glad to see you, that’s all.”

O’Malley shook Brad’s hand and gave him a few words of sympathy. Louise gave Brad a warm hug and then she hugged Alex too.

“Now, Mr. Brad? Everything around here is just fine. I just want you to know that we are all here to help you and Alex get used to all the changes and all you gots to do is ask, all right? And, Miss Gracie? You had better
move yourself
and get their order in the kitchen!” She pointed her thumb to Gracie’s customers, who were thus far water-less, bread-less and drink-less.

“Oh!” Embarrassed, Gracie scooted through the kitchen doors, giving Alex a little wave.

Alex was delighted and Bogart, a true male, gave her an approving woof.

It was not long before the telephones started ringing for dinner reservations and the lunch crowd was swollen to the point of a twenty-minute wait.