The girls, Rosie, Edelgarde and Jo Ann had Christmas uniforms. They were more modest, cut higher and fuller on top so as not to show much bosom and cut lower and longer on bottom so as not to show anything there. They still bore resemblance to French Maids’ uniforms, just not the general “man” idea of French Maid uniform. They were green and red in design, all Christmas with the traditional Christmas ornament decorative pattern one might see on Christmas wrapping paper.
No one looked happy. Bill and Jimmy G were more happy than the others out there, or so it seemed. They had taken another shot of whiskey and carted a beer apiece on their kitchen truck. First thing they did inside their little kitchen was open their beer bottles and take a drink.
Instead of quiet as one might have thought it would be, The Falstaff Room was bustling. The girls were busy making sure everything was set and that they had not only back-ups for everything but back-ups for the back-ups. Caesar was overseeing everything, and while he had not come to the kitchen yet, he was visible at most times. Bill saw he was in his usual tux but that he had a Christmas bow tie.
Jimmy G and Bill worked steadily to unload their truck. The routine was a touch different, not much. Since they had different menu items, the steam table needed some adjustment. The ham, turkey, two types of potatoes and stuffing all needed to go there as did the sauces for them. Technically, for the turkey it was gravy. Gravy was still a sauce.
When they were done unloading they finished their beer and headed out. Because Caesar was on their cases, the girls had not come by at all. Bill was glad for that. He was hoping to be able to keep up a little buzz, which he had now, and simply work through the day. That was the plan. Since they had all warned him about how busy it was going to be, he was hoping the day would speed by and be gone.
Kalista was busy at her work as Bill and Jimmy G came out to make the trip back to the main kitchen. They could see she was not a happy camper. It was written all over her face. It was obvious in her body language. Seeing her boys, she launched into a monologue, a heated monologue, in Greek. Jimmy did not say anything until she was done. When she was finished, he turned to Bill and told him that she said some things he couldn’t repeat, but that the gist of what she was saying was that she did not want to be there. She wanted to be home, and she would have been, so she said as Jimmy translated it, if her great niece, the banquet chef’s daughter, would have worked. After all, her father was working and she could have spent the day with him.
“Ya,” was all Jimmy G said. Then he asked her if she wanted a beer, and she said definitely yes and some whiskey too. Then she turned to Bill.
“I make you an espresso,” she said. “And then later when we have time, I tell you what your friend Caesar did to that waitress. It’s your Christmas present.”
Her boys started down the ramp. She watched them and then behind them they heard something crash so they parked the truck and headed back up. Kalista was standing outside her serving area. On the floor was small stack of broken dishes.
“They fell,” she said. She had a big smirk on her face and as she stood there she was looking down at her legs to make sure she had not gotten cut by splashing dishware.
“You okay?” Bill asked.
“I feel much better,” she said after looking around to see they were alone.
Didn’t take long for everyone to come out of the dining room. Rosie was first, then Edelgarde and Jo Ann. Caesar came out last.
By Peter Weiss
As the morning wore on the aroma of the hams filled the kitchen more than anything else. Great stuff was cooking, really great stuff.
The hams emitted that honey, maple, sugary scent, a smell that at first was so tempting you felt like you could eat a whole ham but which after awhile became so overbearing you couldn’t stand it in your nostrils.
Later in his career, when he worked in New York and was one of the top sauciers in the city, Bill would have to make fifteen gallons of curry sauce at least once every week, sometimes twice. On top of that, at least once every two weeks, and usually more because it also came up on banquets, he would have to make Cream Senegalese.
It didn’t happen all at once, but after awhile Bill couldn’t stomach the smell of the curry. No matter how much he washed his hands and how long he showered and shampooed his hair when he got home, he couldn’t get away from the smell.
Forget about eating curry. Ever!
So when he was a kid Bill had a friend named Alan whose father was part owner in Barricini Candy. His friend went on to marry his high school sweetheart, invent a deodorant and then some. But he had to work in one of the candy stores and lots of times Bill went with him, to work and to hang out.
Alan’s father also owned a piece of a movie theater, the RKO Keith’s in Flushing. Alan got free passes to the theater all the time and so Bill and Alan and Alan’s girlfriend and her friend, who went with Bill because they were young and had to be on double-dates, went to the movies a lot and sat up in the last rows of the balcony making out.
Bill was thinking about the candy store experience the more the ham smell got to him. At first it was a swell smell, really swell. They would stop the rotary and baste the hams, pans of them, and then start the rotary again.
The ham smell getting near-nauseating as the day wore on caused Bill to remember everything, especially those times in the movie theater. Under The Boardwalk.
The hams were beautiful too. Golden, then maple, then a light maple-brown. The cooks glazed each one with a brown-sugar glaze that made it shine.
By comparison, the turkeys, which were also beautiful, golden and succulent, were almost non-smelling, not because they didn’t have their own aroma but because the ham aroma smothered them.
To the people who came to the buffet in the kitchen, the people who just caught the whiffs, ate and cut out, that ham smelled swell. It was swell because as the morning wore on it was put out on the buffet to eat. To Bill and Jimmy G, who both had to serve it all day, it was something they wouldn’t really choose from the selection.
Turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and yams, that was one fare they were preparing. Ham and choice of stuffing or potato was a second fare they were preparing. But they were running the regular menu too, just a little modified. Steaks and chops were all being served, as was the fish. Only things not being served were the lobster tails and frog legs. The idea was to limit the sauté so that both Bill and Jimmy G could concentrate on the specials.
Basic idea, from past experience, was to turn over the room as many times as possible. Many hotel guests had called down to make reservations and they already had multiple turns of the room. This meant, and they all knew this, it was going to be a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am day and the goal was to make sure the food put out was not just good, but Falstaff Room great.
About ten-thirty, almost everything was done. Bill and Jimmy G were already loading up their truck for the first trip out. The room was opening for dinner at noon.
By Peter Weiss
Chloe and Millie were at the buffet table when Bill as the others came out of the chef’s office. They were standing alone together off to the side, each with their own plate of food. They had settled by a kitchen truck where they could put their coffee cups down and eat comfortably.
Bill was not very hungry but he absolutely loved the breakfast sausage and bacon, so he took a generous helping of each on a plate with some scrambled eggs and home fries. As he took it, he knew he would not finish it. But that didn’t matter to him. He went over to where Chloe and Millie were, set his plate down on the kitchen truck and went off to get himself a coffee.
“The chef tells me you’re a really good cook,” Chloe said when Bill returned.
“That’s nice to know,” said Bill.
“Your probation is up at the end of January. I checked.”
“Just a formality now,” Bill said. “You must know Caesar doesn’t like me and was trying to 86 me. Not being on probation will protect me against that. Otherwise, it doesn’t mean much. I won’t be changing behaviors or anything like that.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” said Chloe.
Bill set his coffee on the cart and took up his plate. Before he could take anything from it to eat, Millie reached in and took herself a sausage link.
Bill watched the whole thing, saw her slim, svelte, what-he-thought-were-gorgeous fingers wrap around that link. He noted the fingernails, meticulously painted, and wanted to suck them right there. Then he saw her seductively slip that sausage between her lips and bite on it.
No sooner had Millie done that than Chloe did exactly the same thing. Her fingers were nice too, long, thin and nicely tapered with fingernails painted same color as Millie’s. She reached to his plate, took a sausage link and slid it between her lips. As she did so, she looked at Bill and winked.
“New Year’s day will be very busy here,” said Chloe. “The banquet chef tells me you have parties too and you’ll be here all day. “No rest for the wicked.”
Bill smiled. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard this saying recently. He didn’t have much rest now and he wouldn’t have much rest until the banquet season was completely over and The Falstaff Room business quieted down. Bu this was a good thing because he could remember — he would always remember — being broke, down and out and having to borrow rent money from his brother every month.
“Idle hands make the devils ’workshop,” he responded.
“Seems to me we’re in the devil’s workshop here. I know just about everything and I have spies everywhere.”
Chloe slipped the rest of the sausage between her lips. “I’m looking forward to really meeting you,” she said.
Soon as she said it, she turned to Millie. Millie reached into Bill’s plate and helped herself to a rasp of bacon. “She means it,” she said.
Bill knew she meant it but just what it meant was the uncertainty. He had a pretty good idea. Not only did he have a pretty good idea, but he had a good idea of the time frame too.
“I think I’ll come out to eat in The Falstaff Room tonight,” said Chloe. “The ham looks good. So does the turkey. And I hear you’re really good on the grill.”
“Tell the girls to let me know it’s you. I’ll make it special.”
“I may bring Millie with me.”
“Even better,” Bill said. “What kind of spies?” he asked.
“All different kinds,” Chloe said. She winked at Bill again. “So I know you do all the work out there, or just about. And I know all your extracurricular activities too. And I know the Greek mafia has adopted you and the chef likes you. Millie does too.”
“I’m standing right here,” Millie said.
“I know, darling,” Chloe replied to her.
By Peter Weiss
Jimmy G, Victor and the banquet chef were still there. They weren’t doing anything, just sitting around and conversing in Greek.
Bill went straight to his locker and changed into a clean uniform. His uniforms were always sharp, always starched and bright-white. The only other kitchen help that had uniforms of this quality were the chefs.
“His girlfriend keeps him sharp,” the banquet chef said.
“She keeps him hot,” Jimmy G. said.
They all laughed. While they laughed and had a good time at Bill’s expense, Victor took a bottle of whiskey and some Dixie cups from his locker. He spread the cups out on the bench before the lockers and poured a good double shot into each of them. Done pouring, he capped the bottle and left it out on the bench. Jimmy Banquet Chef, because he was the boss, handed a cup to each of them.
“Cheers boys,” he said.
“Merry Christmas,” Victor said.
Jimmy G did not say anything. He drank quickly and reached for the bottle.
Bill said, “Cheers,” and drank his down.
“Good stuff,” Victor said.
“Good stuff,” the banquet chef said.
“All we need is a beer chaser,” Bill said.
“I have beer,” the banquet chef said. “Upstairs.”
“I could go for a nice cold one,” Bill said.
“Me too,” said Victor. “Let’s have another shot.”
Jimmy G already held the bottle. He waited for everyone to set their cup down and then poured. He filled the cups higher than Victor had.
“Happy days,” the banquet chef said.
“This one’s gonna be happy,” Bill said. He was already feeling the buzz and it surely wasn’t unpleasant.
“I think it is,” the banquet chef said. “No chef, just me. So boys, we’ll go up and have a beer or two and then get everything ready for The Falstaff Room. We’ll get something to eat too.
Bill made sure his street clothes were hung up properly and that everything was in place inside his locker. He took his knives that were set in a towel roll, slammed the metal door closed and clicked the lock shut. Jimmy G and Victor did the same.
They walked in pairs to the main kitchen, Jimmy Banquet Chef with Bill and Victor and Jimmy G together. For the most part, the entire place was deserted. Altogether, the hotel was set to run on a skeleton crew. Security was there but limited. Housekeeping was there, maids on every floor but half the crew that normally worked on any given day shift. Maintenance was present, especially those that tended to the heat, electricity and plumbing. Room service and one breakfast dining room were open, but the dining room this morning was buffet style. The room service cooks were working hard for a change, keeping the guest buffet stocked and the kitchen buffet set.
The four of them went into the chef’s office after Jimmy Banquet Chef opened it with his key. Through the glass window they could see all the help that was in the kitchen, a good deal of people, most of them congregating and chatting, all of them with plates that they were eating from.
“Get something to eat, boys,” the banquet chef said.
“Where’s the beer?” Bill asked.
Jimmy Banquet Chef pointed to a large half refrigerator in the corner of the office. Bill went over and opened it, found it full of expensive, imported beer. He pulled out four bottles and set them on the chef’s desk.
The banquet chef laughed. “While the cat’s away,” he said.
Jimmy G handed Bill the chef’s chef’s knife and smiled. It was funny because no one ever touched the chef’s knives.
Carefully, much more carefully than if it were one of the kitchen’s knives, he used the back of the blade end and his fingers to open the beers. When they were all opened he set the knife back in its place.
“Cheers boys,” the banquet chef said.
They drank their beer happily and when they were ready they headed out together to get some breakfast from the buffet table.
By Peter Weiss
The laundry wasn’t open and there wasn’t a rack of uniforms. There was a simple sign on the closed counter that said to knock. Bill gave a gentle little tap three times with one finger and stood waiting.
Millie did not open the counter but she opened the door next to it. Seeing it was Bill, she smiled and ushered him in. Before he could get all the way in, she took his dirty uniforms from him and tossed them into the big bin of dirty uniforms. Then she closed and locked the door.
“Well, morning stranger,” she said. She reached up and kissed Bill on the lips then pointed upward to where mistletoe hung. “Not exactly under it, but close enough,” she said. She reached up and kissed him again. As she did so, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her house-dress so it fell open slightly revealing her bra. “You like? Brand new purple lace. We got it just for you.”
Bill didn’t say anything. He watched as Millie stepped back a few steps and held her top open so he could see the cups of the brassiere. He saw her lips form a shy-like smile, maybe half trying to be coy and half definitely trying to be seductive.
“Well?”
Before he could answer, she turned her back to him and lifted the dress part so he could see her panties. She wiggled for him and turned to face him without letting the dress part down.
“Matching set,” she said. Still holding the dress, she ran her fingers up her inner thighs and over the purple lace panties.
“I like,” Bill said.
“Come here,” Millie said. She led Bill over to right under where the mistletoe hung and pointed to her breasts.
“Kiss each one,” she demanded.
Bill leaned in and did what she asked.
Millie pointed down.”Kiss there too.”
Bill bent over and kissed there too. He couldn’t help his male reaction but he tried not to indulge it. He stepped back away from her.
“They’re waiting for me in the kitchen,” he said.
“We’ll all go over together,” Millie said.
Millie turned around and bent slightly over. “Last place to kiss,” she said.
Once Bill had done that, Millie reached out and took Bill’s hand. She led him to the furnished room, went in first and kind of pulled Bill in. He was reluctant but entered.
Chloe was sitting on the sofa. She was in a purple dress, he saw, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands clasped in her lap. She was made up and he judged quickly she was pretty much flawless.
“Hello,” she said. She did not stand up.
“Hi.” Bill freed himself from Millie and stepped forward to reach out a hand. Chloe took it and they shook hello. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“I saw you yesterday and of course Millie has told me all about you.”
“All?”
“Well,” Chloe said, “maybe not all, but surely most. Nice to meet you too.” She stood up and smiled. “Maybe we should head over to the kitchen, make an appearance at the buffet the banquet chef put out.”
“I have a lot of work to get done,” Bill said. He looked to Millie. “Have some uniforms for me?”
“Of course,” she said.
Bill carried three sets of clean, starched uniforms over his shoulder as they headed out together back toward the main kitchen. Chloe and Millie veered off when Bill headed toward the locker room.
“I hope we get to know each other much better,” Chloe said.
“I look forward to it,” Bill responded.
Getting to know Millie’s boss better, Bill knew, was not a matter for him. He knew, since she was a boss and part of the hotel’s upper management, that any interplay they would have would be up to her, determined and controlled by her. She was in a different class than him altogether.
He stood a moment and watched them head off then headed off to the locker room to put away his uniforms.
By Peter Weiss
They stood at the counter kissing. He reached up under her robe and helped himself to a gentle feel of her, a feel that was designed not to be sexual as much as intimate, a feel designed to let her know they were close.
As it happened, his mother-in-law walked into the kitchen at that precise moment.
Ain’t it funny how the night moves, Bill thought.
That was always the way it was.
Her mother didn’t flinch or look away or do anything but go about what she had come into the kitchen to do. Bill, of course, withdrew his hand immediately.
“I’m not saying anything,” his mother-in-law said. “You’re married almost getting on a year now.”
“I’m gonna go start the car,” Bill said. He left the kitchen, went outside in just his clothes, opened the car door and inserted the key. He started the engine and waited a moment to make sure it ran without stalling out. Satisfied, he ran back into the house.
The dog was waiting for him. He stayed in the foyer a good moment to play with the dog, big boy German Sheppard that he was. He petted the dog, kissed him on the snoot, petted him some more, tapped his side a few times telling him he was a good boy. The dog wagged his tail happily and followed Bill back up and into the kitchen.
“You gonna get here for dinner?” his mother-in-law asked.
“For sure not,” Bill said. “Even if we close early, can’t see getting back here before 11:00.”
“That’s too bad,” she said. “Maybe next year.”
Bill smiled. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Bet your ham is better than the one I’m serving.”
“I’ll same some for you,” she said.
Bill went back to his wife who was still standing at the counter. While he was out starting the car, she had started some water for tea. The kettle was just beginning to whistle. He kissed her a full kiss and then kissed her a second time before he went over to the stove and shut the light under the tea kettle.
“See you later,” he said. “I love you. Merry Christmas to you all.”
Down in the family room he put on the coat he had never hung up. He didn’t bother to zip it, just wrapped it about him and headed out the front door to the car. Then he was on his way.
Being a holiday, the roads were empty and the ride into the city proper quick. He pulled onto the loading dock as he almost always did and parked where always parked, an away spot out of the way good for the small car he had.
Now that he’d been there awhile, the routine that had been so strange the first day was just that, a routine, a familiar one. He said hi to everyone, punched his timecard and went on his way where he found the back of the house empty and quiet, the normal hustle and bustle conspicuously absent. This was a good thing.
He hadn’t been to the laundry in a couple of days so he needed uniforms. He didn’t know if Millie would be there or not, but if not, he hoped she’d at least have left him some clean ones. It wouldn’t have been like to her not to have done so, so he expected at the very least to find a rack of uniforms with some of them on the rack bearing his name.
Jimmy G was just tying his shoes when Bill got to his locker. Jimmy Banquet Chef and Victor were there too, both already in uniforms and both already having been at work.
“There’s a buffet table with breakfast stuffs,” the banquet chef said.
“I need to get uniforms,” Bill said.
“Ya,” Jimmy G said, “I’m hungry.”
Bill opened his locker and took out the two sets of dirty uniforms he had left in a ball on the bottom the locker. “See you in a few,” he said.
By Peter Weiss
So it was after one in the morning when Bill got to his in-laws’ house. The house was dark on the first floor and completely dark from the front as Bill drove up. Because it was late and dark and cold and quiet, Bill did his best not to make any noise.
First thing that happened when he opened the door and entered the house was the German Sheppard barked. He met Bill at the front door and because he knew Bill by his smell, his touch and his voice, he stopped barking instantly. Bill tapped himself on the chest and the big boy stood up and put two legs on Bill. Bill petted his head and kissed him on the snoot.
“Good boy,” Bill said.
The dog went back to all fours and Bill patted him on the side. “Good boy,” he said again. “It’s only me. You can go back to sleep.”
The dog wagged its tail. He didn’t go off to sleep. He followed Bill as he went to the family room where he put his coat on the sofa and then went up the stairs of the split level house.
Bill’s wife was up and waiting for him. A soft bedside light was on. She lay in bed reading. She was under the covers with her legs up and the book on her lap. She had a wine bottle and two glasses on her night table.
“Hey baby,” she said.
“Hey,” Bill said. He walked to the bed and sat beside her, leaned in and kissed her.
“How was your night?”
“Slow and tedious. Tomorrow will be busy, they say. We’re open at one.”
“Not much time to rest.”
“It’s okay.” He leaned in and kissed her again. This time his lips clung to hers, felt and tasted the lipstick she had put on. She was made up. He’d seen this immediately and wondered what she had in mind.
“Pour us some wine,” she said.
“I need to take a shower.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Bill poured them each a glass of wine and handed hers to her. “Merry Christmas,” he said.
“It is Christmas already, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
From next to her in the bed she pulled a piece of mistletoe. “Gonna kiss me under it?” she asked.
“Where you gonna put it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I can guess.”
“I’m sure you can.”
Bill’s wife, being cute, put the mistletoe over her head. She held it there with one hand, held her wine glass with the other.
Bill leaned in and kissed her. This time he kissed slowly, deeply, carefully, allowed his tongue and made sure it did, to meet with and play with hers.
They kissed a long time. This was nothing new for them, nothing unusual. While they kissed Bill took her wine glass from her and set both her glass and his on the night table. Then, both of them with a free hand, they hugged and kissed even more.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too.”
“We had a nice time at my aunt’s. Maybe next year you’ll be able to be there. You were missed.”
“Remember when we were broke? Dead broke? Better I work if I can.”
“At least you eat well.”
“Ham and turkey tomorrow,” Bill said. “Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing. Bet the ham won’t be as good as your mother’s.”
“It’s just another Christmas here. We’ll open presents, eat, everyone will do what they do. Me, I’ll help my mother.”
“I’ll be gone all day.”
“What time you have to leave?”
“Nine. Thereabouts.”
“Better go take your shower so you can come to bed.”
Bill took the mistletoe from her hand and held it over them again. He leaned in and they started kissing again, kissed the same way, a long time.”
“Come on and shower with me,” he said when they finished kissing.
His wife lifted the covers a little. “I don’t think so,” she said.
Bill saw that she was all dressed up for him.
By Peter Weiss
“I want what Rosie got,” Edelgarde said.
Shortly after Bill had walked part-way down the ramp and stood leaning against the wall smoking his cigarette, she joined him, leaned against the wall next to him and helped herself to his cigarette.
“You can have it.”
“Really?”
“Why not?”
“Great. When?”
“Whenever. Just not tonight. I’m tired and on top of tired I’m really beat. I have to drive over to my wife’s parents’ house which is a longer drive. Jimmy G ain’t doing shit and I just wanna finish up and get the hell out of here.”
“I hear you, baby.” Edelgarde had been holding his cigarette all the while he spoke. She took another drag on it and handed it back. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed,” she said. “But I understand.”
Bill didn’t say anything. He took his cigarette back and puffed on it. When he was done with it, he dropped it and stepped on it to put it out.
“Anything I can do for you?” Edelgarde asked.
“Not really,” Bill said. “Let’s close this bad boy down and get out of here.”
Since they had not been out of sight and had not done anything wrong, they walked up the ramp together. It was common for the Rosie and Edelgarde to walk down the ramp and join Bill to cop a hit off his cigarette. No one thought anything of it just like no one thought anything of them coming up the ramp together.
With no orders and nothing happening, the night dragged on. Bill did all the breaking down he could do without leaving himself unprepared for orders if they came in. Jimmy G stayed out by his aunt. He had not done much work all night and wasn’t about to do much. Worse, as it seemed, he didn’t care.
Kalista was apologetic. She didn’t actually say anything to Bill, but she pampered him more than she normally did. Normally she took good care of him, but this night, with nothing going on anywhere, she delivered his espressos, made them all doubles and fixed him nice plates of pastry. Bill thanked her, and once, under the piece of mistletoe the girls had taped in the kitchen doorway, he kissed her on her cheek.
Bill made the first trip to the main kitchen by himself. This was after Caesar announced that he was closing on time in case someone, anyone, came in and wanted to eat. Caesar told Rosie and Edelgarde that they had a responsibility to be there during the regular hours and they would, at least on this night, live up to it. After all, it was Christmas eve and if someone wanted to be there, they should be allowed to be.
The main kitchen was totally deserted and closed down. The only bright light was in the chef’s office and Jimmy Banquet Chef was in there with beer and whiskey. Bill peeked in on his rounds and was invited in for a drink. They each had a shot of bourbon and a beer chaser. The banquet chef walked along with Bill as he made his rounds and helped him put away all the things on his truck. That done, they had a second drink before Bill went on his way back to The Falstaff Room.
Best news was that they could all get out on time. Jimmy G and Bill had their truck ready to go and were all set to cut out when Caesar announced they were closed. The girls had completely set up the dining room for the next day. Kalista had put her things on the truck and had shut down here station.
They were opening early Christmas day and running a special menu with turkey and stuffing. No rest for the wicked.
Rosie and Edelgarde each took a last kiss with Bill under the mistletoe. Bill and Jimmy G said good night to Caesar, and then along with Kalista they were gone.
By Peter Weiss
Rosie had a glow. Bill smelled of her. They let themselves out of the ladies room carefully and walked back slowly. Bill lit a cigarette and they shared it as they walked.
Neither of them said anything for most of the walk back. Rosie told him she would have liked to have held hands. That was impossible.
Just before they got to the ramp, Rosie, having made sure no one was around, kissed Bill. “Too bad we have to go back,” she said. Then she said, “Don’t say anything, not now, not ever.”
Bill didn’t say anything. He went up the ramp first and stopped by Kalista to get an espresso.
Kalista knew. Bill knew Kalista knew because he sensed it. He felt it. Maybe he just imagined he felt it. She didn’t say anything, at least not right away. She made him the espresso and sat back in her seat. She was sitting not doing anything when Rosie came up the ramp. Rosie did not stop. She went straight on through the double doors and back out into the dining room.
“Any orders?” Bill asked when he went back into the little kitchen.
“One,” Jimmy G said. “You back now?”
Bill shook his head yes.
“Good.” Jimmy G smiled. Without any fanfare, he simply turned and left the kitchen.
Bill, all alone, started the clean up. He began by shutting down the heat to the steam table. Then he started breaking down the food that was out, putting film on the leftover specials and wrapping everything that could be wrapped. He did not work hard, but he worked steadily.
As soon as Rosie had returned, Jo Ann came by the open hearth to say good night. She was the only waitress who had not kissed Bill and she wouldn’t. She blew him a kiss through the open hearth serving window and told him she would see him tomorrow. Bill wished her a safe home, watched as she walked around and past the doorway. He heard the double doors open and close and that was that.
Edelgarde was next, not to leave because she and Rosie always closed together, but to come by the serving window.
“Hey baby,” she said.
“Hey.”
“Rosie got the glow.”
“What glow?”
“The glow.”
Bill smiled. “The Christmas glow?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Well good for her.”
“I want that glow too.”
“Think of Christmas.”
“Very funny.”
“I have to clean up. And I don’t know where my partner is.”
“What you got to eat?” Edelgarde asked.
“What you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“I have fish and chicken specials left over.”
Nah. I’ll get some of Kalista’s pastry. Seems like you’re not offering anything sweet.”
Bill blew Edelgarde a kiss over the counter. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Not even close,” Edelgarde said. “But I’ll take what I can get.”
“Sure you don’t want some food?”
“I’m good,” Edelgarde said.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” Bill said.
Edelgarde went around and out the double doors. Bill continued with the clean up. He still worked slow and easy. While he was working Caesar came by. He ordered a steak from Bill and Bill took one out and threw it on the grills. Because nothing had been working, the grills were red-hot. The steak sizzled and Bill only waited a moment before he turned it to diamond-mark it. Then he flipped it, and when he did he settled it into a different spot on the grill. Since that spot was red-hot too, he repeated the process, left it a moment then rotated it to diamond-mark it.
Caesar fed, no tables working, no orders and it not looking like any more orders were coming in, Bill went out by Kalista. Jimmy G was just about asleep again, not quite but all but. Edelgarde was eating a pastry and drinking coffee. Rosie was smoking a cigarette and drinking a coffee. Kalista was wrapping up her leftovers and finishing her closing up routine.
Bill lit a cigarette and took a coffee. He walked a bit down the ramp and leaned against the wall. He realized he was tired.
By Peter Weiss
By ten o’clock they were done. Jimmy G and Bill could have started the cleanup then, but they didn’t. The room didn’t close until midnight although Caesar had mentioned maybe closing early. No one had confirmation of an early close as of yet.
Jimmy G had been sitting out by his aunt for most of the night. Now, with nothing at all going on, Bill joined them. He ate a pastry, drank an espresso. He sat smoking a cigarette when he saw Rosie come out through the double doors and head on down the ramp. Part way down the ramp she turned back to him. She gave him a quick nod with her head, the one indicating that he should come along. Then she went on all the way down the ramp.
Bill waited a moment before he got up. He walked over to the bus box and put out his cigarette in one of the dirty ash trays nearby. Then he told Kalista and his partner he’d be back in a bit.
Rosie was waiting out of sight from the ramp and they walked together to the distant employee restrooms.
“It’s Christmas tomorrow,” Rosie said.
“Yup,” said Bill. “Just another day for me cause we’ll be here working. I’m good with that.”
“So am I,” said Rosie. “Not much going on in my life. Being here is okay.”
“I always like making the money. I was broke not too long ago, broke and down and out. Never want to be that way again.”
“I’m okay with money. I like the work. Eddie and me hang out a lot, but that’s about it. I’m not dating anyone, don’t want to. I like it alone and Eddie and me can satisfy each other for now when we need to.”
Rosie looked at Bill and smiled. She didn’t blush and wasn’t shy about what she said. It was all matter-of-fact as it were. She was looking at Bill, he thought, to see if he had any reaction.
“Having enough money is good,” he said.
“I had a husband once. I worked. He spent my money. Never again.” She bumped Bill’s hip with her own. “I hope you stick around a while,” she said.
No one was around. Bill had never seen it this quiet, a time when no matter where you turned or went you didn’t run into at least someone. Everyone was home, or wherever they were, for the holiday, or as many people as could be. Even the banquet chef had told Bill he was running home for an hour or two.
They went into the ladies room together, sure no one had seen them. Rosie flipped the lock shut and there they were. For a moment neither of them knew just what to do do. They stood looking at each other, maybe each waiting for the other to make the first move.
“Have to pee?” Rosie asked.
“Not really. You?”
“Not really, but I will.”
She went to that stall they always used and squatted down to pee. Bill watched but from a distance and with not too much interest. He’d seen her pee before and he’d seen all of her before too.
Then she was put back together and standing before him, her back to the open door of the stall.
“So?” she said.
“So?” he said.
“What’s your Christmas wish?”
“I don’t have any wishes. You?”
“I’d like it sweet,” Rosie said. “I wish we had a bed, but it is what it is. I want it slow and soft and sweet and creamy. Can you do that?”
“I don’t see why not. I’m sure we’ll figure a way.”
“Good.” Rosie took a step toward Bill and then found herself in his arms. They hugged and kissed and hugged and kissed some more.
Because it was slow and nothing was going on out in the dining room, and because his partner had not worked much during the dinner, Bill had time and they didn’t feel rushed. Slow, easy and sweet was definitely doable.
