Caesar came by the kitchen at 11:55. He asked Bill and Jimmy G if they were set up. In fact they were and they were both chilling out, Jimmy G sitting down reading a magazine, Bill in his corner smoking a cigarette.
“I have people at the door,” Caesar said.
“No problem,” Bill said.
“Reservations go all through the day, full house.”
“We’re ready.”
Jimmy G did not say anything. Bill told Caesar he was going to run to the bathroom and be right back. But he did not go until he was sure that Caesar was away from the kitchen.
Before Bill had started there, as Bill and Caesar had first words about, Caesar would have walked into the kitchen and looked at everything, tasted what he felt he wanted to taste. Bill, as any self-respecting cook would have/should have done, stopped that practice immediately and made it so if Caesar wanted something he had to ask for it. No way Bill was having him put his hands in the pans of food.
For speed, and some for taste too, everything today was pre-sliced and ready to go. The turkey sat in pans with clear broth keeping it moist. Hams were sliced and set in glaze. Each order of turkey as it was dished up was a mix of dark meat and white unless the order specifically requested one or the other. The ham was ham, all the same. It was meant to be easy peasy.
No way Bill was having Caesar touching any of the food that would in one way or another be sent out to customers. No way Bill was having Caesar taste anything by reaching into anything.
“You want to try anything?” Bill asked.
“No,” said Caesar, “not now.”
“It’s all good,” Bill said. “Believe me.”
“I know it is,” Caesar said.
So after Caesar had walked away Bill ran to the bathroom. Almost literally. He walked double-time and did not stop for anything. He went to the nearest and quickest employee bathroom, peed, washed his hands and ran back.
Jimmy G went next. When Jimmy G came back it was 12:05 and Bill already had three orders, all of them family orders with nothing but the daily specials. He had already laid out the plates for the first table and was working on it: three ham dinners with yams and two turkey with mashed and stuffing.
The routine was simple. Bill plated the special, Jimmy G the sides and whoever had free hands finished up whatever had to be finished up. They did that table working out their pattern, coordinating how they worked together on these specials.
The second and third tables were similar, all daily specials, and by the time they had finished that third table they had four more orders, but most important they had their routine down. Jimmy G laid out the plates from Bill’s side toward his and as they were being laid out, Bill started plating what needed to be plated. He went down the line, and no matter where he was, once the plates were laid out, Jimmy G started plating the sides per what Bill called to him.
When Rosie picked up her last of that second round of orders tables, she told Bill they were getting slammed and that the room was full. This was, in the scope of things as such meals went, a very good thing because once the room was full the tables could only turn so fast. As one emptied, it was re-set and a new party was seated. With mostly pre-prepared specials going out, Jimmy G and Bill not only could keep up, but they could stay ahead. And this they did.
Bill called to the main kitchen within the first half hour and told Jimmy Banquet Chef to just start running out food, all specials and all sides. The banquet chef told Bill it was no problem, that he would be there within minutes.
And that was that.
By Peter Weiss
Jimmy Banquet Chef filled a pint soda bottle with whiskey and closed it with the cork from a wine bottle. He also put a six-pack of imported beer on the kitchen truck.
The chef, maybe all chefs did, kept a box on his desk with all kinds of things to close bottles. Inside that box were twist caps, corks and some plastic stoppers that would fit various-sized bottles. The most commonly used closure item was a cork.
The second trip out for Bill and Jimmy G was all about food supplies. They carried the first of the hams and turkeys as well as the prime rib. They carried the sauces for each item, a gravy for the turkey, a sweet-glaze sauce for the ham, au jus for the prime rib. They carried a pan of vegetables and a backup pan, a pan of stuffing and pans of potatoes, one mashed the other yams.
They had laid in all the regular menu items on that first trip and the only things left were to check and replenish all the condiments and decorative items. Today there was no room for error, or at least that’s what Bill surmised from what they had told him about Christmas days past.
Before they unloaded the truck, Jimmy G gave his aunt the little whiskey bottle and two beers. She did not hide these or make any pretense to do so. She simply put the whiskey in her kitchen drawer and the beer in her underneath reach-in cooler. One thing about Kalista, she didn’t care if Caesar saw her doing anything she did. She didn’t care about anyone seeing her do whatever she did. In and of herself, she was not only an icon there, but she was also the matriarch of much of the main kitchen help there.
Before the boys headed out on their last trip to and from the main kitchen, they stopped by Kalista. Kalista had prepared espresso for them all only she had made a lot of it and put the black liquid into coffee mugs. She handed them to her two boys with a big smile and when Bill went to put the coffee to his lips he understood why. Kalista had laced the espresso with whiskey.
“Health,” she said.
“To a good day,” Bill said.
“Ya,” Jimmy G said.
They stayed a moment all together and drank their coffee. Then Bill looked at the clock and saw it was time to start making that last trip. The one thing he did not want to do this day was not be ready at the start. Starting behind pretty much meant running behind the whole way if it was busy. If it was non stop, like they all said it would be, starting behind meant, or could certainly mean, running behind all day.
Once the truck was fully loaded, they stopped into the chef’s office. The banquet chef was sitting in the chef’s chair with his feet up on the chef’s desk. He was looking mighty comfortable there.
“What’s up boys?” he asked. “You ready?”
Bill and Jimmy G both sat down in the arm chairs facing the desk.
“Good to go,” Bill said.
“Have another drink and another beer before you head out,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said. “I’ll be running the food with Victor. Personally. We have everything all set up and will be able to get anything you need to you at a moment’s notice.”
“Ya,” Jimmy G said. “You know what to do.”
Bill and Jimmy G both got up. Jimmy G poured the drinks. Bill went to the window where the curtain was drawn. He peeked through a corner of the curtain and saw Victor coming into the office. Not many people were at the buffet table, he saw. The room service cooks were tending to the food. Bill could see they were not replenishing items because very shortly now they would be switching out the breakfast fare for lunch foods and the day’s specials. As a courtesy to the staff, all of whom were stuck away from their families to work one of the biggest of family holidays, the kitchen was offering unlimited, free, holiday fare.
By Peter Weiss
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
She was in slippers and a robe when he came down the stairs and into the kitchen. He was in jeans and a sweatshirt. He went to her immediately and kissed her good morning.
“I made you coffee,” she said.
“You didn’t have to do that. I’d have gotten some at work.”
“My pleasure.”
She smiled. He looked at her. She was beautiful, that was his thought. It wasn’t a new thought. It wasn’t an old thought. It was just his thought every time he took the time to look at her.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” she said. She poured him a mug of coffee, fixed it with the creamer he liked, handed it to him. Then she stood against the counter and watched him sip the hot liquid.
“What’s the day like?” she asked.
“No banquets. I guess mostly setting up. The hams and turkeys are cooked off. Dressing is made. Mostly heating stuff up and finishing it off, then setting up for the service. We’re opening at 1:00 and going till closing. Maybe the jerk will close early. He didn’t yesterday.”
She knew the jerk was Caesar. She knew every name he used to refer to Caesar and they weren’t usually as gentile as “jerk.” They were generally much more colorful, much more gruff.
“Maybe you’ll get home a bit earlier.”
“Doubt it. But I’ll call and let you know.”
Bill sipped at his coffee. He looked at her again, looked a long time. As he did, the knot came to his stomach. When they were like this, alone together and conversing, kind of just being together as husbands and wives do, the knot came to him regularly now. Guilt. Shame. Guilt and shame. Maybe fear, fear of getting found out and losing all he had. Guilt, shame and fear.
He ran it in his mind. They weren’t even married yet and he was fooling with Mary and Bea and sometimes Alfreda. Then there was the host of waitresses that were ongoing in his life, the last of whom was Arlene down there, the one he had gotten close to because she confided in him about her mother being really sick. Her mother being sick was what did it. If anyone knew what it was like to lose a mother, it was him. So they had an instantaneous connection and of course that connection, well, it led to, well…
Maybe if he’d had a policy. Maybe if he hadn’t been so altogether vulnerable based upon what had happened to him at that demonstration he hadn’t meant to go to in the first place… Maybe, maybe, maybe. Before that demonstration everything seemed simple, clear and easy. And afterward…
He was a bigger dog than the dog that was laying there in the corner of the kitchen. He was a much bigger dog. I’m a goddamn dirty dog, he thought. “You’re a goddamn dirty dog,” he said to himself in his internal voice.
He didn’t quite know what to do about it.
Nothing. That’s what he thought. Do nothing. Say nothing. Go on about this life and just stop what you’re doing.
Yeah, right. He bet Rosie and Edelgarde would have fresh mistletoe.
The goal was to come up here and leave all the messing around down there behind. It was supposed to be easy, simple, a new job, a new place where he didn’t know anyone, where he could just do his work and come home. He wasn’t supposed to have any complications, any involvements except the business ones that dealt with the kitchen and the kitchen’s business.
Yeah, right. Millie in a housedress and slippers like his wife was now right in front of him. Rosie and Edelgarde in their skimpy French maid’s uniforms, jiggling and bouncing and flaunting their wares, openly and overtly coming on to him.
Not simple. Not easy. Non uncomplicated.
Bill sipped his coffee and buried that knot deep as he could within him. He walked over to his wife and pressed against her at the counter.
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.
