When the broiler was completely empty, after he’d fed all the help, dishwashers included, Bill went out to the office to call home. It was almost five by this time so they still had a few hours to go. But slow as it was, he was thinking that instead of fooling around and wasting time, he might get started on the grease. If he could get it done, if they didn’t have much more business, he would be able to get out on time.
Tommy did let Lillian go and Grandma too. They cut the fried chicken off the menu—Alvin ate two orders which he asked Grandma to make him before she went home. He stood there, right before the steam table, his fat belly pushing the two closed buttons on his kitchen shirt. To bust her ass, because he liked her and wanted to get in her pants, he asked Victoria to bring him a beer. Victoria, because she liked her job and didn’t have to see him very often, didn’t make a fuss about it. She asked Bill what he wanted and Jimmy too.
Bill’s fiancé told him she was going out, that she didn’t know how late she’d be but that it wouldn’t be past midnight. When he asked where, she told him she was going with the group. With the group meant with Tim and Jack and Rell and maybe a couple of the other choreographers and dancers who were Tim’s friends and Jack’s friends.
Bill had a thought. He had several thoughts. First one was more of a feeling which was attached to a thought. He felt himself feel disappointed, thought to himself why today when I’m getting home at a decent time. The second thought was a what-the-hell and he told her he was planning to come home, but if she was going out, he’d grab a beer with some of the cooks.
He waited after he said this. He waited long enough to see if she would change her plans, change her mind, at the very least tell him she’d make sure to get home early if he’d been planning to come straight home. But there was quiet on the line, the kind of quiet he would learn was called the pregnant pause.
It was pregnant, all right. That would be his third thought.
When he returned to the kitchen, Mr. Bowman and Robert were both standing there by his broiler. Mr. Bowman was eyeing the burnt steaks and when he asked about them, Robert answered for Bill. He answered by picking one up and waving it in front of Mr. Bowman’s face.
“Boy cooked over twelve hundred steaks,” Robert said. “Huh, glory and glory hallelujah.” He smiled. He jiggled and wiggled the steak in his hands then tossed it into the garbage. After the one, he tossed the others too.
“How many steaks come back?” Robert asked Bill.
“None,” Bill said.
“Tell the truth, boy,” Robert said.
“He’s telling the truth,” Alvin said. “Now can we go back over the west side?”
“In a few,” Robert said. “We taking some meat over to start up tomorrow. Soon as you move your ass and get with Henry Lee and load up, we can go.”
“Faggot,” Alvin said.
Robert blew Alvin a kiss. “Kiss my faggot ass,” he said. “What’s good to you is good for you.” He was already around on his way to see Mary when he was saying this.
Mary was cleaning up her station. Bill had helped her with consolidating everything that needed it into smaller containers. Ovens empty, stove-tops mostly cleared, one pan of vegetables set up for in-case, she was just readying her station so she’d be able to go right to work in the morning.
“Happy Mother’s day,” Robert said to her.
“Lord have mercy,” Mary said.
