Before the service started, when Tommy came around to look at things, he saw a stock pot half-filled with au jus on Mary’s stoves. He also saw a large soup pot filled with Bordelaise sauce, a smaller stock pot filled with soup of the day, a half-homemade chicken noodle soup with, of all things, garden vegetables inside it. Then there was a roasting pan filled with yellow rice covered with aluminum foil and three pans of vegetables, each one ready to be set into the steam table. These were stacked and also covered with aluminum foil. Mary was in the process of setting up more pans of vegetables and told Tommy she had more baked potatoes in her regular ovens.
One stove and half of another was purposefully left clear on top. That was for Grandma, where she would fry her chicken, order by order, although today because it was going to be so busy she was going to fry a few orders ahead and keep herself a few orders ahead. Grandma was not in yet. But she was not overdue either.
The meal and service were straightforward and simple. The regular dinner menu was being served. So for the most part, it was steaks, prime rib with au jus, the usual frozen items, Grandma’s fried chicken and of course chopped steaks and hamburgers. The sides were a choice of rice, baked potato or French-fries and vegetables. The vegetable for the day was mixed garden vegetables, all from frozen packages devoid of any water. They were warmed in butter and seasoned by Mary to taste.
Everything was in place by eleven. All the waitresses were working, every one of them, each with their own station and two of them working as runners. Not only did Tommy make his walk through the kitchen, but he went from dining room to dining room over and over again making sure everything was in place, extra everything was in place, everything was clean, everyone was ready.
It was going to be a big to-do. At eleven when everything was set and ready to go, there was the sense of it being the calm before the storm, like there was a hurricane coming in and they knew it was going to hit in about a half an hour.
Bill sat on his milk cases in the hall and smoked a cigarette. Bea came out and sat on her lettuce cases. Maybe she was so preoccupied about what was to come for the day that she forgot she and Bill had fought. She sat with her legs spread so wide Bill could see all the way up them and she didn’t seem to have a care in the world as to whether or not he looked. For his part, Bill didn’t say anything. But he did look. She saw him looking, spread her legs wider.
“My pussy all sweaty,” she said. “My fat ass too.”
“I’m soaked all the way through,” said Bill. “It’s goddamn hot outside and it’s gonna be much hotter inside.”
“You got that right,” Bea said. Then she looked at Bill kind of funny, in a way Bill didn’t quite understand, a way he hadn’t seen before. “Been meaning to say I’m sorry,” she said. Using both her hands she grabbed her kitchen dress in the middle between her legs and fanned herself with it. “I know I was out of line. I know you didn’t mean nothing. Sometimes, you know, things just catch you the wrong way and you blow your cool. Well, that’s what happened to me.”
“So what you want from me?” Bill asked.
“Don’t want nothing,” Bea said. “Just wanted you to know.”
Bill got up and walked across the hall to her. He stood over her, moved close against her. He leaned down and kissed her once on the cheek.
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