They did fifteen hundred covers on Mother’s Day. It was a record for both stores. Bill would work for hours nonstop and have to change his apron four times. Each time the soiled apron was soaked with meat juices from where Bill had wiped his hands. He would sweat so much that he was wet all the way through his underwear and undershirt. He changed kitchen shirts twice out in the hall after Tommy went down to get him a clean one.
They came in at seven. Henry Lee and Bill went straight to the meat room to cut meat. They had already cut full inventory for twenty-five hundred covers. Henry Lee figured that would be enough for both stores, but he wanted to be positive they could cover everything, so he and Bill went right to work cutting more meat. They made even more trays of hamburgers and chopped steaks too. On a busy family day like this one promised to be, it was sure there would be lots of kids coming in.
They drank bourbon as they worked, but neither Bill nor Henry Lee got high. They both wanted to but they both knew they needed their wits about them. Even their drinking was in moderation. Henry Lee could drink more than Bill because he would be working all day downstairs in the meat room. He had been through this before and knew what they were up against. For Bill it was all theoretical, hypothetical. He was forewarned about it and intellectually he knew what he was about to face. IRL, he had no idea what it would actually be.
Leading up to the day there was a certain excitement about it. On the actual day, no one seemed to expend any extra energy. As they worked Mary and Bea spoke to each other frequently, communicating about everything they had and everything they needed. They would open at 11:30, serve dinner all day and close at 9:00 PM. After that came the cleanup.
Out in the hall the stack of lettuce cases was almost roof high. Bill had to help Bea get them down, and the first time they went to do so, he brought down four cases so that there were actually two stacks. To start, he carted in two of the cases and dumped them into Bea’s sink.
You would not have known that they had fought. While they did not pass what had been their usual pleasantries and did not banter back and forth, their interplay was cordial and professional. No longer was there any touching, goosing or anything like that. If Bea missed it, she didn’t let on. Bill was glad that part of their relationship was over.
One of the last things Bill had done last night before going home was wash baking potatoes, tons of them. Instead of a pan full, some 20 or 30 they usually baked for the start-up, today Mary filled the convection oven, all the shelves, and started them early because they would take longer since the oven was full.
Six prime ribs were in the ovens. They had slow-roasted all night long. One of the first things Bill saw when he came in were the towels tied hard around the oven handles. Of course he remembered—he could never forget—that one prime rib that had gotten away from him, from them, that had ended up as ash, that had crumbled when he poked it with his kitchen fork.
And so it went.
For the final set up, Bill and Henry Lee brought up double-stacked meat trays, each tray double-loaded as much as it could be. They double-stacked the trays of frozen goods too and left two extra cases of French-fries out in the hall.
Henry Lee’s job during the day, in part, would be to cart up things that were called for as they were needed.
