“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!
NINE
LIFE GOES ON
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.
“Line two,” Louise said, “it’s Lindsey.”
Lindsey was euphoric.
“Mom! My hair looks fabulous!”
“Woo-hoo! That’s wonderful!”
“Mimi wants to talk to you. Hang on!”
“Hey!” Mimi said. “Remember that cute doctor I went out with last week?”
“Yeah,” I said, with no clue of what was to follow.
“Well! How’s this? He’s got a friend he wants you to meet! A date, Linda! He’s gonna call you this afternoon!”
I broke out in a sweat and I couldn’t think.
“Who?” I said. “Who’s going to call?”
“His name is Jason-something and he’s this environmental scientist or biologist or I don’t know . . . anyway, he came to Charleston to work at the aquarium but he wants to teach and so now he just took a job teaching at Wando High School. So! He’s gonna call! Be nice!”
“Fine!” I said. Be nice? What did she think I was going to do? Go through the phone, bite his neck and suck his blood?
“Let me know when he does, okay? Oh, and wait until you see Lindsey! Don’t you know she . . .”
All I could hear was blah, blah, blah . . . a man was going to call me and ask me for a date. Okay. Okay. I could handle it. As long as he wasn’t married like all those bastards who had—
“Linda? Answer me!”
“What? Listen, I can’t talk right now. Brad just got back and—”
“Oh! How’s he doing? Did you meet his son? That was just awful, wasn’t it? I’ll tell you—”
“Mimi! I love you madly, but I gotta go! I’ve got piles of work here!”
“You know what, Linda? Sometimes you can be just a little bit coarse, do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I’ll call you later.”
I went back to entering data on the word processor. I was setting up a directory with contact information for everyone we did business with—fishmongers, kitchen supply companies, plumbers, greengrocers, electricians, cleaning supply houses—not very sexy, but it had to be done. And, I had to do payroll.
Brad did the rounds, checking out everything and talking to everyone and then came to my office, plopping himself in the chair opposite my desk.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired.”
He did look tired, especially around his eyes.
“Funeral went all right?”
“It was horrible. First of all, Theo must have taken a Xanax or something like it because he could hardly speak. Then, Archie, my worst enemy of my entire life, comes up to me and says he’s sorry for my loss.”
“Holy hell! What did you say?”
“I wasn’t very nice, I’m a little ashamed to say.”
“Let’s hear it word for word.”
“I said, My loss was your gain, wasn’t it?”
“Good for you! Nobody ever says what they think!”
“Yeah, well, I was so completely pissed off to be back there and reminded yet one more time that those three had brought so much pain and confusion to Alex’s life, I just wanted to kick him in the teeth.”
Brad had crossed his legs and his arms and it was clear he was still deeply upset.
“You know something?” I said. “I know we are all entitled to the pursuit of happiness, but I don’t think it should be at the expense of somebody else’s.”
Brad stared at me for a minute.
“Look, if Loretta wanted Archie, that wasn’t exactly fine with me, but our marriage was such a tangled web of duplicity and psychotic behavior, it didn’t surprise me that it fell apart. I guess what bothered me was that Loretta never showed any remorse. And, Theo knew he was wrong about me and that he hadn’t been fair with me on any one of a thousand issues over the years, and he never showed any remorse either.”
“Well, you know what they say; the nuts don’t fall very far from the trees.”
“I think it was apples, but whatever. I just feel bad for Alex, you know?”
“Well, sure! Of course you do. He didn’t ask for any of this to happen.”
“Exactly. Anyway, horrible as it all was, Alex is probably better off with me. I just didn’t like going through seeing that asshole Archie. And, you know? I actually felt sorry for Theo.”
“Well, he’s an old man and nobody, no matter how awful they are, should ever have to bury their child.”
“Yeah. That’s true. I’m just glad that part is behind us. Now there’s the estate stuff, but thank God for Robert.”
“He’s taking care of it?”
“Yeah, he’s got a cousin in Atlanta who’s an estate lawyer, got a big firm and all that. I could not care less, but if Alex has any inheritance coming to him he should have it, right?”
“Right.” I could sense that Brad had discussed the whole disaster as much as he could endure and I didn’t want to pry. “Where’s Alex now?”
“He’s out on the dock with Duane, learning how to cut a deal with a longline guy.”
/> “What’s he got?”
“A load of blue mackerel that could feed half of Charleston County.”
“I love blue mackerel—baked with crab meat? Yum!”
“So, what are you up to?”
“Organizing everything, a dull and dreary job to be sure. You know what I was thinking?”
“What?”
“That once a year we should put all our vendors out to bid, you know? Keep them honest so they don’t inch up their prices and we get gypped?”
“Well, some of these guys are friends, so that makes it sticky, but some of the others aren’t. I mean, they’re nice guys and all . . .”
“Yeah, but isn’t this a business? Come on, Brad! This isn’t a frat house, is it?” I thought that a little teasing was in order, something that would get his mind back on work and lift his spirits.
“Well, we don’t walk away from the kitchen supply guys so fast because they’re invested in this restaurant! Before you go off and pull a vendor, you’d better let me know who it is.”
“Ah! I see. Oopsie?” It had never occurred to me that some of the vendors might be investors. I hated to get caught being stupid. “You’re right.”
“This time, but not always. So tell me what went on while I was gone.”
“Well, the cleaning service sent us this new man who looks like somebody from a rehab center for hard drugs.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Brad said. “By the way, your Gracie is a very pretty girl. I think Alex is a little taken with her.”
“Thanks. And she’s already gasping for air. Maybe they can go to the movies or something or the beach? Hey! I just remembered, I have to register Gracie for Wando High School next week. God, school starts so early here! Want me to take Alex too? Oh! Have you thought about where he’s going? I mean, you might want to put him in Porter-Gaud or something.”
“I’m a big believer in public school education,” he said. “My mom was a teacher for thirty years. Taught English and American literature. Gee, God. I didn’t even think to bring his transcript.”
“I can call for it, if you want. Just tell me where he went to school and I’ll do it right away.”