“I’d buy it, if I had the money,” Alice said, indulging in a little wishful thinking.
She’d always fantasized about opening a restaurant. Randy used to joke that she was a frustrated chef, with all the dinner parties she’d thrown. Even when she wasn’t entertaining, she’d loved experimenting in the kitchen, dabbling in herbs and spices and condiments the way a painter would with his palette, creating new recipes and coming up with fresh takes on old standbys.
The years at Pine River had been especially hard in that respect, because she’d missed all those flavors, missed having her senses come alive at the scent of a roast chicken pulled crackling from the oven or a simmering pot of fish chowder filled with meaty chunks of wild salmon and halibut. Prison food all looked and tasted the same: dull, pasty, gray. The first thing she’d done upon her release was to head straight for the nearest market, where she’d bought a
hunk of aged Cheddar and a bag of sweet, juicy, Washington apples.
Baby’s bright blue eyes narrowed speculatively. “You would, would you? Well, in that case you’re as crazy as they say. No offense,” she said, holding up a hand to silence the protest forming on Alice’s lips. “You and I both know there’s plenty of folks in this town got nothing better to do than wag their tongues. I don’t pay them no mind. But ain’t no getting around the fact that even if you had the cash, you’d need the customers. And, hon, you’re about as popular as Typhoid Mary right now.”
“Well, there’s no point in discussing it.” Alice felt embarrassed to have even brought it up. “It was just wishful thinking.”
“Tell me about it. That’s how me and the captain ended up in this leaky boat.” Baby gave a rueful grin, showing a row of teeth that looked too big for her mouth, and too perfect, to be anything but dentures. “Now look at us. Too old and broke to swim for shore.”
“But you love it!” Alice protested.
“I’ll tell you something,” Baby said, with a sigh. “You leave work every night smelling of fry oil, the bloom kind of wears off after awhile. Sure, I love it, but I hate it, too. And damn if my feet ain’t begging me to quit. They’re like a couple of old mules tired of pulling.”
“Why
don’t
you just sell it then?”
“Simple. No takers.” The old woman gave a sanguine shrug. “Last time we put it on the market, half the folks who looked at it passed on account of its being too close to the highway for them to tear it down and build one of those fancy new McMansions in its place. The other half were smart enough to know what it took us ten years to figure
out: You can’t make money on a restaurant this far out of town when the tourist season’s only four months out of the year.”
“People will make a special trip, if it’s worth their while,” Alice reasoned.
Baby shot a look toward the kitchen, where Captain was pulling a batch of sizzling fries from the deep fryer. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the old coot, but he ain’t exactly Paul Prudhomme.”
“I didn’t mean . . .” Alice started to say.
“I know you didn’t, hon.” Baby gave her a motherly pat on the shoulder. “But let’s be honest. You’re not here for the food. You come ’cause it’s cheap and there’s lots of it. That, and ain’t nobody gonna give you a hard time, not as long as I have anything to say about it.”
Alice smiled. “I’ll take that over oysters Rockefeller any day.”
Baby eyed her thoughtfully for a moment. “Look, if you’re serious about this, maybe there
is
a way.” With a quick survey of the room first to make sure no one needed a refill or change for their bill, she sat down opposite Alice. It was between lunch and dinner hours, so the place was pretty empty, just an old man sipping coffee at the counter and a couple at one of the other tables getting ready to leave. “Course, I’d have to take it up with the Captain, but suppose, just for the sake of argument, that you were to make us an offer. Say, whatever you could afford right now, and so much a month once things get rolling.”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought it through,” said Alice, her pulse quickening nonetheless.
This is crazy
, she thought.
Why are we even discussing it?
Even so, she found herself asking, “What sort of money are we talking about?”
“Just enough to tide me and the Captain over. We have our eye on a condo in one of those Sun City retirement villages. With our social security and a little extra thrown in, we ought to be able to swing it. There’s just one thing . . .” Baby leaned in, her eyes narrowing. “How good a cook are you?”
Alice smiled. About that at least she had no doubts. “It’s been a while, but I don’t think I’ve lost my touch.”
Baby nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Then I take back what I said before. If the food’s great, they won’t care who’s in the kitchen, even if it’s Typhoid Mary.”
“You’re serious about this?” Alice eyed her in disbelief.
“Serious as a heart attack.”
“I couldn’t offer you much as a down payment. Four or five thousand at the most.” Even that would be stretching it.
Baby frowned. “That’s less than I was counting on. But we might be able to work something out.”
Suddenly it hit Alice: This could really happen. And was it really so crazy? With all she’d been through, it seemed fitting in a way, as bizarre as the circumstances that had brought her to this point. As she and Baby talked, a plan began to take shape. They settled on five thousand down, with the rest of the money to be paid in monthly installments once revenue was coming in. All of it subject to Captain’s approval, of course, which they both knew was just a formality. Baby wore the pants in the family; Captain merely did as he was told.
The more they discussed it, the less crazy it began to seem. Alice calculated that she’d have just enough left over to upgrade the place a bit and purchase supplies. Money would be tight, but she might, just might, be able to swing it. And at least she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a
place to live. The restaurant came with a small one-bedroom apartment upstairs, which currently Baby and Captain shared with their three cats. There was just one catch . . .
“I’ll need to apply for permits and there are people who could make it tough for me,” she said, thinking of Owen. She wasn’t being paranoid in imagining that he was behind a number of the doors that had been slammed in her face. At one place where she’d applied for an office job and been turned away, she’d learned later on that the building was owned by none other than Owen White. And at another, a souvenir shop on Harbor Street, a sympathetic young clerk had murmured to her as she was leaving,
A word of advice: Watch your back
.
Baby knew at once who Alice was referring to, and she sniffed in contempt. “You mean Mister Big Shot?” Clearly she had her own thoughts about the mayor. “I wouldn’t let him worry you. You look like a woman who can take care of herself.”
Hearing her own words to Denise coming out of Baby’s mouth, Alice smiled. Even so, she knew she’d be making herself vulnerable. And even if she managed to get the permits and pass all the inspections, there were other ways of putting a restaurant out of business. One bad review or rumored report of food poisoning, and she might as well pack it in. At the thought, she felt some of the wind go out of her sails. But what was the alternative? If she were to walk away from this, she might as well admit defeat altogether.
No
, she thought, something in her rising up in rebellion.
If prison didn’t kill me, this won’t
. Those first few days at Pine River, she’d been certain she wouldn’t make it through the week. But she had. And the week after that, and all the ones that followed. She’d endured the numbing sameness of
each day that began with the rude alarm clock of their automated cell doors clanging open and shut, the thousand and one indignities, the indifference and sometimes cruelty of the COs, the human tide of flotsam and jetsam that washed in and out over the years, and, hardest of all, being separated from her family. And nine years later she’d emerged with her sanity and her dignity intact. A survivor. If she could survive that, she could survive anything.
It all came together with stunning swiftness. Their lawyer drew up the papers and before the ink was dry, Baby and Captain were on their way to the airport, headed for Arizona. It wasn’t until the dust settled and reality set in that Alice realized what a daunting task she faced. The kitchen, in keeping with the décor, hadn’t been updated since the Nixon administration. The ancient Garland stove needed work as did the old Hobart mixer, and on the captain’s last day, as if it too had decided to throw in the towel, the temperature control on the deep fryer had given out, nearly causing the grease to catch fire. As for the overall structure itself, according to the engineer’s report, the plumbing was touch-and-go, the roof leaked in spots, and there were areas of dry rot.
How was she going to pay for all this?
And even if by some miracle she managed to whip the place into shape, there was still no guarantee she’d be able to make a go of it. She’d have to generate business somehow. And how could she do that when she couldn’t even afford to hire help?
That particular prayer was answered in the form she least expected. Several days into her new career as restaurateur she was in the kitchen scraping an archeological dig’s worth
of grease off the stovetop grill when the phone rang. A familiar voice greeted her at the other end.
“Hey, girlfriend.”
“Calpernia!” Alice broke into a grin. She hadn’t spoken to her friend since she’d left Pine River. “How did you find me?”
“Your sister.”
Alice recalled now giving her Denise’s number. She remembered too that Calpernia was supposed to have met with the parole board and was eager to find out how it had gone—a little apprehensive as well, knowing her friend’s propensity for shooting off her mouth. “God, it’s good to hear your voice. In fact, I was going to call you. You beat me to it.”
“You’ll never guess where I am.”
“I give up. Where are you?”
“Bus station. They must’ve decided I wasn’t a threat to society no more, cause, girl, you is talking to a free woman.” Calpernia gave her signature laugh, low and rich and just a tad dangerous, like a cool ride on a hot day in a stolen car.
“Oh, Cal. That’s great news. I’m so happy for you.” Alice had been keeping her fingers crossed. “So what now?”
“I’m on my way to my daughter’s. My baby, Shaniqua, she got her own place now, down in L.A. Still can’t believe she all grown up and all, with a family of her own.”
“You must be excited to see her.” Alice recalled when Calpernia’s daughter, eighteen at the time, had been pregnant. Shaniqua had visited regularly up until then, but after the baby came the visits had tapered off. Calpernia had yet to meet her nine-month-old grandson.
“Girl, you don’t know.” Her friend heaved a sigh, one that held years worth of pent-up longing. But, of course,
Alice did know. She’d felt the same way herself, about Jeremy. Now, weeks later, what had she accomplished other than to drive him even further away? “But I ain’t staying,” Calpernia went on. “Week or two, and they’ll be ready to throw me out. Shaniqua say the place so small you can hear the neighbors fart.”
“Where will you go after that?”
“Hell if I know. But I’ll work something out. How bout you? How you doing, girl?”
“Okay, I guess.” Alice spoke in a measured tone, not wanting to burden Calpernia with her worries. “It’s good to be back, but it’s tougher than I thought it would be.”
“Those white folks giving you a hard time?” It was an old joke between them.
Alice smiled. “Let’s just say it’s been interesting.”
“What’s happening with your boy?” Calpernia asked more gently.
“Not much.” Alice gave her a quick rundown, feeling the old guilt wash in. Jeremy was right about one thing. Whatever her reasons, the fact was she hadn’t been there for him all those years.
Calpernia listened without comment, then said, “He’ll come around. He just hurtin,’ is all.”
“I hope you’re right.” Shaking herself loose from those thoughts, Alice said in a more upbeat tone, “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so gloomy. It’s just that I’m a little overwhelmed right now. Did my sister happen to mention that I bought a restaurant?”
Calpernia let out a gasp. “No way. For real?”
“I’m afraid so. There’s just one problem. Well, two actually. I’m up to my eyeballs in debt and I don’t have the faintest
idea what I’m doing.” A crazy idea popped into her head and before she knew it the words were out. “Hey, how would you like to go into business with me?”
Calpernia laughed so long and hard, Alice thought she must be attracting attention at the other end: a twohundred-pound black woman who looked mean enough to wrestle you to the ground and steal your purse while she was at it, busting her gut at some bus station pay phone. Finally, she stopped laughing and blew out a breath. “Damn. You one crazy white girl, you know that?”