Snow started falling again about the time Bill was going to change the grease. The dinner was pretty close to gangbusters. So far as Bill could tell, from the meat he had used and the two times he had gone downstairs to get more meat, it was pretty close to a Friday or Saturday night in volume.
About ten, the waitresses who were not closing started to come in to order their dinners. Victoria was on. Bill asked her if she wanted something special, but she said she didn’t, that she’d have, if he didn’t mind it, a double hamburger made into a chopped steak. The other girls ate hamburgers or pickerel.
Bill fed the dishwashers at the same time he fed the girls, so for awhile the dish machine was shut down and the kitchen was relatively calm. Bill had, especially through the rush, which was a long, steady rush, kept an eye on both Jim and Mickey. Mickey was sneaking drinks again, or so Bill thought since he couldn’t actually prove it. He did this by combining all fluids left in alcohol glasses into his glass with soda pop in it.
By ten-thirty, all the girls fed and no orders on the board, Jimmy and Grandma said good night and headed out of the kitchen. Lillian had worked. She was finished as well. Bill had fixed her a super. As she usually did, she sat with Tommy in the side dining room and ate her dinner. Tommy had asked for a slice of rib, not too thick, with a baked potato and a double portion of veggies.
“I got to change the grease,” Bill said to Marie. “I’m going down for the first cube. When I come up let me know what you want for dinner.”
Marie was busy cleaning up her station. She had been swamped. For some reason they had sold an inordinate amount of chef’s salads. In the midst of the rush, she had had to cut more ham and turkey. Good thing she had prepared lots of side salad so that the girls could take what they needed while she did this.
For Marie, with the way it worked out, this dinner was no pleasure. She worked harder than she should have had to and ran behind a little bit. But she was a good pantry lady, even with all the extra baggage. In the heat of the rushes she stayed calm and steady, the mark of being experienced. So she muddled through.
“No problem,” she said to Bill. “If any orders come I’ll call for you or send someone down.”
“I’ll only be a minute,” said Bill.
He left the kitchen, then no more than two or three minutes later he returned with a fifty-pound cube of grease up on his shoulder. He dropped the grease box in front of the fryer. Then he opened the fryer door and carefully turned off the gas.
Marie ate prime rib with a baked potato and vegetables. She stood on her station and ate standing up. Bill delivered the plate to her and stood by her for a little while.
“He’s home tonight,” she said. “With some good luck, he’ll be asleep.”
“I’m not going home. She’s sleeping over at a friend’s. Especially now that it’s snowing again, there’s no reason for me to travel.”
“Where you staying?”
“Lorraine let’s me sleep on her couch sometimes.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Her kids are there.” Bill knew he was providing information for Marie to draw a different conclusion than the reality. He didn’t want to talk about it and felt no reason to have to.
“Yeah, but you and her…”
“Yeah we do. So what?”
“So nothing,” Marie said. She continued eating. Bill, in what felt like an awkward moment, rubbed her shoulder then went back to work.
