“What do you have to do for the afternoon?” Bill asked Mary. He stood close by her by the screen door, close enough so that she could feel him against her. He felt her shift on her feet so they were not touching.
“Nothing too much,” Mary said. “I got enough of just about everything until tomorrow and I’d rather start fresh tomorrow when we have more business. This way you can throw away a lot of the leftovers tonight without wasting much.”
“Think we have enough prime rib?” Bill asked.
“I think we should use up what’s there. If we run out, we run out and that’s best.”
“Henry Lee and I don’t even have much meat to cut,” Bill said. He leaned in close to Mary and whispered in her ear. “I think I’m gonna trip.”
“I think you are tripping,” said Mary. “And don’t be coming around rubbing all over me, either.”
“What you mad at?”
“What was you and Bea doing in the store room?”
“She was getting salad dressing. I was rotating stock that should have been rotated and re-stacking what I had to move to get to it.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
“Well you can bet on it.”
“The bitch.”
“It’s not her I like.”
“But you still hit it, don’t you?”
“It’s easier than not. Turning her away is gonna make a fight I don’t need to fight in here right now. Give me a little time to put her off.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course. You’re the only one I care about. You know what I mean. I care about Lorraine, but that’s different. She’s different.”
“Why you care about me?” Mary asked.
“If you have to ask, you really are stupid,” said Bill. “And I know you’re not stupid.”
The snow started to fall again as the lunch was ending. The lunch was abysmal and Tommy was clearly unhappy. He came to the table where Bea, Henry Lee, Mary and Bill were eating. His first question was quite simple, about how much food they had left over. Mary looked down into her plate when she told them they hadn’t sold much of anything. The steamship round, she told him, would be enough for the next day so that they didn’t have to cook another one. The lunch special was hardly touched. She was thinking about what she could make it into for a special for the dinner.
Henry Lee reported that they hadn’t sold many steaks either. He said he didn’t have to cut much for the evening and that he would talk to Robert about what they needed over on the west side. He said he couldn’t imagine they needed much over there. He said he didn’t want to get too far ahead in the inventory, but that they could probably make up some of the lost business over the weekend when Ohio State was playing basketball at home. That of course would depend upon whether or not it snowed anymore.
Bill, as usual, ate very rare roast beef with lettuce, tomato, pickle and mayonnaise on a hamburger bun. Mary and Bea ate tuna fish salad sandwiches. Henry Lee ate a steak. Like any good meat cutter, he would make sure to get an extra steak out of one of the top butts to make up for the one he was eating. Here, at Suburban, the cooks really looked out for the owner. Altogether, this was a small operation, two stores, and the kitchen crews were pretty much interrelated. They knew as a unit that their livelihoods depended upon the success of the restaurants. None of them wanted to lose their jobs. They might complain about how hard they worked, how little they were paid and what a pain in the ass Drenovis was. But despite the snow, life was good.
