Authors: Emily Eck
Tags: #romance, #erotic, #personal growth, #motorcycles, #gritty, #strong heroine
“
Hey, don’t sweat it. You
know I got this,” Larry said, like he ‘d never burned a hole in the
Monte’s fabric (he had) or forgotten to put the pipe in the console
(did that too).
“
Larry, I am so fucking
serious. Do not fuck her up.”
“
Serious. I will treat her
like a queen.”
“
You better,” I mumbled as
he walked away. Jesse came in next. He would be on the
fryers.
“
Smoke?” he asked, plopping
down next to me. I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and passed him
the lighter. “Who is with us today?”
“
Larry is on the grill and
José will be in at 10am when we open as floater.” The floater did
just that, floated around all the stations to whoever needed
help
I stubbed my cigarette out. “I’m gonna get
some more coffee and get started. Want me to pour you a cup?”
“
Fuck yeah.” Jesse and I
walked back to the kitchen. I grabbed a coffee cup and filled it
with two sugars while shoving a few more packs in my pocket. Then I
took the coffee pot on line and refilled Larry’s cup that sat on
the cutting board of his station, poured Jesse coffee in the cup I
filled with sugar, and gave him the extra packets from my pocket.
Finally, I refilled mine. I set the coffee pot in the hot food
window, as I expected we might be finishing it before the doors
opened for business. I poured some cream into my coffee and some
into Larry’s.
“
Do you know how we all take
our coffee?” Jesse asked. I stopped for a second.
“
You take it with just
sugar, Larry and I with cream, and Aaron drinks it black. So yeah,
I guess.”
“
How do you remember?” Jesse
seemed truly perplexed by this.
“
I don’t know.” I shrugged.
“I just notice and don’t forget.”
“
Fuck, I can’t even remember
my mom’s birthday let alone how everyone takes their coffee. The
only reason I know you drink Labatt’s is cuz it’s
weird.”
“
Well maybe remembering
things is one of our many feminine talents and Labatt’s is not
weird it’s the shit, unlike your Coors Light that tastes like
watered down piss.” I threw a raw mushroom at him and smiled. He
knew I was teasing, but really, Coors Light was nasty.
Larry came back in. “Thanks for the
Joe.”
“
No burns?”
“
No burns,” Larry said,
shaking his head.
“
No scratches?”
“
Nope.”
“
Did you put the bowl in the
center console?”
“
Yes Elle, your baby is safe
and I’m high so chill.”
“
You’re welcome,” I mumbled,
refilling my own coffee for the third time.
The day started off slow, but around two it
began to get busy. I knew that would happen. People were getting
last minute gifts, were stressed, and wanted to grab a quick bite.
I was grateful to see Aaron come in at noon. He started pulling
tickets out of the ‘done’ basket.
“
You’re back here? Usually
when it’s you and Kevin, he works back of the house and you work
front.”
“
What, you don’t want me
here?” Aaron asked feigning offense.
“
Fuck you. You know I would
rather have you any day.”
“
Of course you do. Who else
is going to change the keg with you?” Aaron winked at our weed
code. “Anyway, I wanted to hear about J.”
I groaned. “There isn’t anything else to
tell. He’s still out of town,” I said, plating up three
quesadillas.
“
Well give me something. How
big is his dick? Is it thick? Curved? Big head? Dear lord, is it
tiny?” he asked, grabbing the ticket with four chicken platters and
a beef quesadilla I had just put in the ‘done’ basket. Someone
liked their chicken tenders.
“
Aw Aaron, no dick talk. I’m
fuckin’ handlin’ like ten steaks back here,” Larry yelled. I
coughed to cover the laugh that was starting to come from my
gut.
“
But you handle that meat so
well,” Aaron teased.
“
Aaron,” I said in a warning
voice. I leaned in to the hot window and whispered, “Don’t freak
him out. Larry’s holding it together by a string and if you break
that string I’m gonna feel the wrath. If I feel the wrath, I’ll
make sure you do too. And he’s a magnum.” Aaron’s eyes got big, but
before he could say anything I yelled to Larry, “It’s all good. I
got two mediums and a well comin’ off next. José, set some plates
up for Larry, will ya?”
“
You got everything Jesse?”
I asked.
“
I’m good,” he said,
whipping back and forth between the fryers and his cutting board,
making baskets of hot wings, mozzarella sticks, and a shit ton of
chicken fingers.
Now that I knew everyone was all set, I
leaned into the hot food window. Aaron was patiently waiting. “So
it’s big but can he use it?” Aaron whispered, so as to not set
Larry off.
“
He can, but more
importantly, he can use his tongue and his fingers. Aaron, it’s the
best sex I’ve ever had. I think he’s giving me better orgasms than
I give myself!” I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice down. None of
the cooks knew about J. Larry and Jesse had met him, but neither
knew we were seeing each other. It was Larry I was most concerned
about. I knew he liked me. Like
liked
me. He knew we were just
friends though. I think he felt good knowing I was closer with him
than any other cooks. I didn’t talk about guys with Larry so I
hadn’t told him about J. Well, I guess that was kind of a cop out
as I never had a guy worth mentioning. I had purposely not told
Larry about J. Hmmmmm. This was something to ponder.
“
When does he come back?”
Aaron asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“
I don’t know,” I said,
passing Aaron three tickets that were ready to have the food sent
to the table.
“
Where is he?”
“
St. Louis,” I said, giving
Aaron two more tickets.
“
Doing what?”
“
Not sure.” I dropped four
more tickets in the ‘done’ basket.
“
God damn it Elle, tell me
something and stop giving me fucking tickets,” Aaron huffed. I just
smiled. I could have given him all nine tickets at once, but I
passed them out slowly on purpose, just to piss Aaron off. It
worked. It was all in jest though. Aaron was now too busy getting
the plates ready and finding servers to take the food out to ask me
any more questions. Mission accomplished.
Miraculously, the day finished without
anyone having a meltdown. I say miraculously because I had worked
Christmas Eve for the last five years, and this was the first one
to be meltdown-free.
“
I’m locking the doors.
Whatever tickets you have is it,” Aaron announced, walking into the
kitchen from the dining room.
“
This is all the tables?” I
asked, double checking. Aaron nodded. “Change the keg in twenty?
We’ll have all this out by then.” Aaron nodded again, smiled, and
winked. Only Aaron could get away with winking at me and it not
seeming sleazy or giving me the heebs. The wink could be a
dangerous thing when used incorrectly, which was almost
always.
Kevin had gone home, leaving
Aaron to close up the restaurant. Twenty five minutes later Larry,
José, Aaron and I were outside on the back dock standing behind the
dumpster. Not that anyone would see, plus the only manager was with
us, but for good measure we kept ourselves clandestine. Never can
be too cautious. Jesse had to go straight to some family party
after this and opted out, saying his mom would know he was high to
which he was met with Larry’s taunts and teasing. I told Jesse that
was very respectful to his mother and to ignore Larry. Good god, I
was like their fucking mother. José was a new edition to our
circle. He’d worked in the kitchen for a couple months, and he
passed the test. There was no formal test really, just feeling him
out to see if he was cool or a whiny bitch. Larry had his whiny
bitch moments, but I forgave him becasue he was Larry and we’d
worked together for so long. José turned out to be pretty chill.
I’d only seen him meltdown once, and to his credit, it was prom
night and he was working the fryers. Prom equaled teenagers, which
equaled fried shit all night for him. Teenagers loved them some
chicken fingers and mozzarella sticks. I could tell when one of the
guys was about to flip, but I hadn’t caught any signs from José.
He’d been oddly quiet. I discovered
that
was his sign.
“
You going to your parents
tomorrow Elle?” Aaron asked, passing me a joint he
brought.
“
Yep. God bless Dad and the
special eggnog.” I passed the joint to José.
“
You don’t like your
parents?” he asked.
“
They’re just a handful,” I
shrugged.
“
Man, we do it up on
Christmas. Tamales, pozole, barbacoa. You gringos don’t know how to
do it right.”
“
Si pero ustedes tienen pistos en todos sus
fiestas
.
Bautismos, bodas, quinceañeras…”
I trailed off.
José laughed. “Eh, you’re getting better
Elle, and yeah we break out the beer for any occasion.”
“
Yeah, my parents need to
take a lesson from yours,” I mumbled, pulling a joint out of my
cigarette pack that I rolled the night before. Another female
talent, we came prepared. “What are you two doing?” I said, nodding
to Larry and Aaron. I passed the joint to Larry.
“
I’ll hit my ma’s up in the
afternoon,” Larry said, puffing the joint. “You?” he nodded to
Aaron, passing him the joint as if it were the talking
stick.
“
I’m not going home this
year. I’m meeting up with some friends in the evening,” Aaron
replied, hitting the joint and then handing it off to
me.
“
Cool if I hit you up after
my parents’? Well, if I’m still alive,” I asked Aaron, passing José
the joint.
“
You’re parents ain’t cool?”
José asked, taking the joint. I shook my head.
Aaron laughed. He sat through dinner once,
and only once with my parents. “Course you’re welcome. Don’t even
gotta ask Elle. The queens have missed you.”
“
Awww, tell them I miss them
too,” I told Aaron.
“
No mames! I’m goin’ in. No
queen talk for me,” José said, passing Larry the joint that was
about gone.
“
Me too. You gonna eat
this?” Larry asked, handing me the roach. I popped the last quarter
inch of the joint in my mouth.
“
That’s just disgusting,
Elle,” Aaron groaned. I smiled. We all went back inside and cleaned
the kitchen up. I was glad to get home. It had been a long day on
my feet and a bath sounded divine. I needed to relax and gear up
for family time the next day.
Chapter 10
I’d been at my parents’ for about an hour.
Mom put a ham in the crockpot that morning, and it was filling the
house with the scent of pork and brown sugar. Dad and I were
sipping eggnog and watching the Grinch when my phone beeped. The
Merry Christmas texts had been coming in all day.
“
Elle, turn your phone off.
Those beeps are driving me crazy,” Dad said in his not so nice, but
not yelling voice. I grabbed the phone, put it on vibrate, and
slipped it in my pocket.
“
Elle, are you going to help
your mother or just sit in the recliner all day?” my Mom
asked.
Sure, Mom, I’d love to help when
you ask so nicely.
Why we set the table for three was beyond
me. I knew my parents ate at TV tables during the week. That would
be much better than staring at each other for the duration of the
meal. I learned that there was no point in arguing with my mother.
It would just offer opportunities for her to deride me. I set the
table, put out condiments, and mashed the potatoes for her.
“
Earl, I think we’re ready,”
Mom called to Dad a half hour later. We all sat down and Mom said
her usual grace. “Now, we said grace, how about we each go around
and say something we’re thankful for,” Mom exclaimed clapping her
hands together. What? Where did this come from? “I’ll start. I’m
thankful for two beautiful daughters, even if only one is gracing
us with her presence today.” So she was thankful for us, but
managed to back hand my sister’s absence in one sentence. Nice one,
Mom.
“
Ahem,” Dad cleared his
throat, obviously wanting to do this about as little as I did. “I’m
thankful that we have food on the table and a roof over our heads.”
Oh yeah, Dad. Always the practical one.
Two sets of eyes were on me. Fuck. “I’m
thankful to have family to be with on Christmas.” Ok, so I knew I
was lucky to have parents who weren’t raging alcoholics and didn’t
beat me, but was I stretching the truth? Maybe just a smidge.
“
Oh, we’re so happy to have
you here, Elle,” Mom said, reaching for my hand and squeezing it.
Alright Mom, chill out. I swear she was bipolar sometimes. Or maybe
she was just skilled at acting bittersweet. The façade of happiness
was very important, but you knew something condescending was always
on the tip of her tongue, ready to come out at a moment’s notice.
She was the queen of the sneak attack. “Although, you aren’t too
good to come over more than just Christmas, dontchya think?”
Yeeeaaah, there’s she is. My mother.