Grand Opening

by T. F. Pruden

  The breakfast service waitresses Diane Knight and Cindy Graves sat across from them. Career waitresses hired by Rene and Doris to staff the breakfast service, they appeared to be in their mid-thirties and were previous colleagues of the cook.

  They exchanged wise cracks with her since arriving together.

  At the table next to him were Liz McEvoy and Carla Loomis, a pair of young waitresses equal in experience to Sarah. Wayne hired them to handle the lunch service and fill in on nights when either Sarah or Bonnie might need unplanned time away.

  The eldest of the two servers was the blonde Liz McEvoy. A knockout with a sly wit she worked as a night club waitress and in her late twenties remained unhappy to be single. The redheaded Carla Loomis turned twenty one a week earlier. She studied in the teaching program at the University of Manitoba and rejoiced as a happy bachelor. The variety of servers’ positions she held since graduating high school three years earlier were paying for her education.

  With only Bonnie responsible for children and her two boys enrolled in elementary school the staff was not only experienced but possessed few obvious lifestyle issues.

  The seven waitresses and three cooks would be augmented on the night of the grand opening by a trusted bartender loaned from the Marlene Hotel. This was courtesy of Richie Pallento to allow Wayne to perform the hosting duties required on what they expected to be a busy evening.

  Thereafter the bartenders’ role would be filled by the young partner. He would be on site to provide management functions to the business while also keeping the lounge open between twelve noon and ten p.m.

  The pair of young chefs in the kitchen now prepared dishes for the staff tasting. It was the first time the group had been together. An experienced crew they soon reached out to one another with anecdotal camaraderie and Wayne was again pleased.

  He looked at his watch and noted the tasting would begin in only five minutes. Wayne nodded to his partner who waited for his signal from across the aisle. Rene slid from the booth where he sat and cleared his throat as he stood.

  The staff surrounding him quieted as he readied to make a speech.

  “I’m Reggie Sargeant,” the big man said to the tall chef with shyness plain in his rough voice, “an’ any frien’ o’ my brothers’ is a frien’ o mine. Pleas’ to meetcha!”

  “Oui oui mon ami,” the tall chef replied with a grin spreading across his lips, at once relieved by the gentle tone emanating from the enormous fellow, “ma’ name is Maurice Deschampes an’ h’ai’m ver’ pleas’ to make your h’acquaintance for sure for sure!”

  The two men shook hands and nodded to one another. Unsure of what to say or do next they stood uncomfortable in the aisle of the busy restaurant for a long moment.

  “Let’s sit down men,” Ronnie Sargeant’s voice broke the tension, “don’ know ‘bout you two, but I’m starved!”

  The two taller men followed him into the booth. Maurice slid onto the bench next to Ronnie while the enormous Reggie Sargeant returned to the seat across from them.

  “Have you ordered anything yet Reg?” the younger brother asked.

  “Jus’ coffee,” the big man said, “figgered’ I oughta’ wait fer’ you.”

  “Mon frere it w’eel be ma’ pleasure to purch’as ‘da breakfas’ for ‘da two of you ‘dis mor’nang, s’il vous plaît,” the tall chef pronounced with an imperious slur, “an’ you h’ar to order ‘da bes’ of what ‘dey ‘ave available ‘ere, oui oui, eh? Tabernac!”

  “That’s right Reggie,” Ronnie Sargeant said, “an’ I fergot’ to tell ya’ ‘dat Maurice is shackin’ up wit’ us tonight, I got ‘im drinkin’ on ‘da bus las’ night an’ ‘da driver kicked ‘im off so ‘es gonna havta’ catch ‘a nex’ one to Calgary inna mornin’.”

  “Be good to hav’ comp’ny,” the elder Sargeant replied to his brother and smiled at the tall chef seated across the booth, “but you ain’t gotta’ buy us breakfas’ cuzza’ ‘dat, we’s happy to oblige Mr. Daychamp.”

  “Mon ami h’ai’m ‘appy to buy breakfas’ for ma’ new frien’ Ron an’ his big brudder ‘oo ‘ave been so kin’ pour mois,” Maurice answered the big man with a gallant smile, “an’ h’ai ‘ope ‘dat you will take no offense for your ‘ospitality is mos’ appreciated, for sure for sure!”

  “Well I’m jus’ sayin’,” the elder brother continued in the mild voice, “I been known to eat as much as any two or three normal size’ men an’ you might regret buyin’ breakfas’ aff’er you get ‘da bill.”

  The tall chef laughed at the big mans’ confession, which was genuine despite the apparent truth backing it.

  “Mon frere you eat to your ‘earts conten’,” the tall chef assured him with a smile, “an’ call me Maurice, s’il vous plaît. An’ pour moi ‘eet w’eel be steak an’ h’eggs for sure for sure an’ I trus’ ‘dat you an’ Ron w’eel join me for a big breakfast’, oui oui?”

  Ronnie Sargeant clapped the tall chef on the shoulder with an old friend’s hand. He grinned as a waitress appeared next to their table holding a pot of steaming coffee.

  “Didn’ I tell you ‘dis was a great guy Reggie?” he said as he looked across the table at his elder brother with a smile, “we’re glad to know ‘im I tell you!”

  “As mos’ of you know h’ai am Rene Lemieux and along wit’ ma’ partner Wayne Stevens h’ai am ‘da owner of ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’,” the senior partner began in his most heavily accented voice, “an’ h’ai am ‘appy to welcome you to our new family.”

  The staff surrounding him smiled and nodded at Rene. His discomfort at speaking before the small group was obvious. It was also charming and the sincerity he affected with the heavy accent was palpable.

  The short performance though well-worn, he delivered with practiced alacrity.

  “We ‘ave a dream to be one of ‘da bes’ restaurant’ in ‘da city ‘ere,” he continued, his confidence rising and his enthusiasm growing, “an’ wit’ your ‘elp we t’ink ‘dat we can pull it off, ‘do ‘eet w’eel take ‘da ‘ard work of all of us toge’dder to make it ‘appen.”

  Wayne smiled as Rene warmed to his job, appreciating the older fellows’ willingness to take on the difficult task. He noted the staff members seated around him enthralled by his partner’s halting charisma.

  “As h’ai am no public speaker, I w’eel conclude ma’ short speech by say’ang welcome again to all of you, we wan’ you to know ‘dat ‘ere is your new ‘ome an’ ‘dat bot’ Wayne an’ mysel’ are ‘ere for you,” Rene spoke with commitment in both voice and manner, “we don’ wan’ you to t’ink of ‘dis place as only your workplace, we wan’ you to t’ink of it as your ‘ome an’ of us as your family.”

  He looked with imperial benevolence upon the new hired employees seated around him.

  “T’ank you to each of you for join’ang wit’ us as we pursue our dream,” he said, his voice halting, “an’ we ‘ope ‘dat we can make yours come true along wit’ ours. T’ank you ver’ much an’ enjoy ‘da dinner which will be out shortly courtesy of our chef’. Now ma’ frien’ an’ partner Wayne will say a few words.”

  The senior partner returned to his seat, with his cheeks reddening as the staff with generosity applauded his performance.

  Wayne stood as he clapped for Rene, smiling and thrilled by the simple charm demonstrated by his partner.

  Again his mounting excitement grew.

  “If you drink some outa’ yer’ coffees, I gotta’ bottle hid over here,” Reggie Sargeant spoke in a low voice, “an’ I’ll fill ya’ up if ya’ wanna’ drink.”

  “Perfec’ ‘appiness!” Maurice exclaimed, doing his best not to raise his voice, “Tabernac you can coun’ me in for ‘dat Reggie, for sure for sure!”

  “Now ‘dats my good bro!” Ronnie mumbled beside him, raising his coffee cup to drink and exclaiming, “way to go my brother!”

  When both men had placed their cups into the saucers in front of them the big man appeared to wave his hand over the top of them. Th
ough he held a mickey of rum from which he filled each of the mugs to the brim, the bottle was not visible. It hid beneath a thick and powerful palm. Only a moment later he replaced the bottle into a jacket waiting rumpled on the bench at his side.

  He winked at the two men seated across from him when the sharp aroma rose to greet them.

  “T’ank you mon ami!” the tall chef breathed and raised his cup to drink.

  “That’s so good my brother!” Ronnie Sargeant said.

  He lowered his cup and smiled across the table after taking a long swallow.

  The big man smiled at his brother and the tall chef.

  He nodded in satisfaction as the two men enjoyed the fruits of a surprising dexterity shown by his confident sleight of hand.

  “Like our friend Rene has told you I’m Wayne Stevens and I’m the junior partner, lounge bartender, and operations manager of our new restaurant,” the younger partner said.

  He flashed a winning smile to the women surrounding him as he began the speech.

  “I’m happy to welcome you all to the family of ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’.”

  He nodded to the staff members surrounding him and waited until the polite applause concluded before continuing.

  “We’re having dinner together this evening so you can sample the food we’ll offer on our lunch and dinner menus,” Wayne said, warming to his task and continuing in a brisk voice, “and we’re also happy to invite all of you to join us for breakfast Sunday morning at 11 a.m. when Doris will try out her new kitchen for the first time.”

  Another round of applause arrived and again the younger partner waited for it to conclude before he spoke.

  “We plan to offer breakfast Monday through Friday between seven and eleven a.m.,” he said, “and we’ll be open seven days per week for lunch and dinner until ten, and you’re welcome to join us any time, with house accounts available to everyone payable monthly by cash, credit card, or deduction from your paycheck.”

  Another round of low applause rang out and Wayne paused until the murmur of conversation following the news ended.

  “That’s it for me aside from mentioning if you have questions you need answered I encourage you to ask myself or Rene,” Wayne spoke with sincerity plain in his tone, “I’m available seven days a week and both of us are at your service. Our two chefs, J.D. Dryer, our head chef, and our sous chef Ron White, will serve us this evening and be available to answer any of your questions about the food. Enjoy your meals!”

  As the surrounding staff applauded his handsome young partner Rene watched an interesting development take place.

  The head waitress Sarah Lampley did not take her eyes away from Wayne throughout his speech. When he returned to sit at her side, she placed her hand on his well-muscled arm in a clear sign of ownership to her feminine colleagues.

  As a man of the world Rene could see the young woman was smitten by his partner, who remained apparently clueless. He noted the hunger in her eyes as she gazed at Wayne seated next to her. His oblivious young partner did nothing to dissuade it.

  Rene grunted with satisfaction, pleased to discover the nascent romance and determined to speak to Wayne.

  The danger inherent in the young woman’s affections must be pointed out before a star-crossed romance had opportunity to bloom.

  Part Eight:

  Cards on the Table

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Wayne closed the button second from the bottom of the embroidered black silk vest.

  He wore it over a long-sleeved white linen shirt with a mandarin collar. He left the bottom button undone and looked with satisfied approval at his reflection in the mirror behind the television.

  Wayne was alone in the basement of Ben Newberg’s’ East Kildonan home. His final preparations before leaving for the Marlene Hotel and the grand opening of ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’ were complete.

  Anticipation made him giddy.

  The last week dragged with renovations complete and the new staff hired. Though he forced himself to use the time wisely he remained concerned, sure he might have left insignificant but important tasks undone.

  It haunted him now the time to open their doors had arrived.

  Wayne ran through the list of chores in his mind, searching for something he might have missed. He grunted in disgust as he again could not discover what caused the second thoughts. By now he checked all metaphorical boxes, crossed each symbolic ‘T’, and dotted every figurative ‘I’ he could find.

  He tried again to convince himself they were ready.

  The young chefs worked throughout the week perfecting their recipes. They were as ready as they could be for the coming celebration. It would begin with the opening of the restaurants’ doors in only two hours.

  Tonight the service staff would present the result of their best efforts to their first paying customers. Everything and everyone had been prepared to the best of his ability and in spite of the challenges occurring late in the schedule.

  The time to present their wares to the public had arrived.

  Wayne shook his head and hoped he had done everything possible to ensure their success. In only a couple of hours the people who attended the grand opening would decide one way or another.

  The time for making changes was passed.

  They would succeed or fail based on the results of his effort now. No matter how it turned out or what tomorrow might bring. It was time for the new team to perform under the pressure of a live audience. No amount of worry would save them from this moment or the reviews of it soon to follow.

  The words once spoken could not be taken back.

  Wayne adjusted the silver buckle of his belt and picked a speck of lint from the pleats of his impeccably pressed black wool trousers. He sighed and noted he would need to replace them both with examples a size smaller.

  A dozen pounds had wasted from his body since partnering with Rene despite a routine of dining on restaurant food. Stress remained the enemy of his physique and rapid weight loss the signature effect.

  At this point there was little to relieve it.

  Wayne turned from the mirror with a shake of his head.

  He crossed the basement and climbed the stairs to the landing. There his ankle high polished black leather boots waited. He tugged them on before grabbing the black leather jacket hanging on the hook next to the door. Wayne pulled the jacket on and habitually raised the curtain on the door’s window to check the sky for impending rain.

  A cloudless evening greeted him.

  Wayne removed the key chain from the pocket of his jacket along with the calfskin driving gloves. He pulled on the gloves and punched the alarm code into the panel beside the door. After locking the door he strode with purpose to the Camaro waiting behind the small deck. The honk of the disengaging alarm greeted him. He opened the heavy door and slid into the pony car.

  He inserted the key to start the engine but hesitated before turning it. As soon as he turned the key, there would be no turning back. The momentary dread passed, relieving him as he paused. It was stage fright. It told him he would be ready for whatever the night should bring.

  Wayne took a steadying breath.

  It was time to go.

  He started the engine and slid the console mounted shifter into reverse to back with care into the narrow lane.

  As he shifted into drive to pull away the vision of Sarah and her beauty drifted into his overcrowded mind. Wayne had spent four of the preceding seven nights in her bed. Though her home was on the way to the Marlene Hotel, he would not pick her up as he drove to the restaurant.

  He grinned as he eased the black car slowly between the line of closed garage doors, remembering the softness of her skin and the supple pleasure of her lips.

  That he was taking on yet more risk by giving in to the imperious urge he knew well. It seemed he was powerless to stop. He was either unable or unwilling to concern himself with the disaster sure to be the eventual outcome.

  Wayne didn�
�t know which of the two it was.

  Desire for the young woman overwhelmed him. He denied it as long as possible despite her unabashed pursuit. Though aware of the danger he proved incapable of overcoming the physical need to be with her.

  They met at her home after the tasting at the restaurant concluded. She agreed to maintain their relationship in secrecy. He was certain it would soon be too obvious to deny.

  Wayne initially hoped a onetime occurrence might sate their mutual desire.

  His repeated late night arrivals combined with her willing acceptance of him proved too convenient for either of them to refuse. Though realizing the situation would eventually become either too volatile or too damaging to continue he remained suspended by an all-encompassing lust.

  Wayne refused to accept ruination as the inevitable consequence of the doomed romance.

  As he arrived at the intersection, he flipped the stalk to indicate he would turn right onto Roch Street. He shook his head and checked the empty street for traffic. He throbbed at the thoughts of Sarah. As he pulled the Camaro away from the light, he smiled at the lust. Whatever happened between them he would not regret indulging in her charms.

  In twenty years neither of them was likely to be much concerned by the result of their ill-advised tryst.

  As he drove west through the neat residential streets of East Kildonan he thought of the tall chef Maurice. He wondered again at his departure and where he might be tonight. The anger toward him for leaving now dulled. It had been replaced by a keening disappointment the fellow would not be there to enjoy the grand opening with him.

  In spite of adding the breakfast service ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’ would open to the public largely as they originally planned.

  Wayne had grown fond of the tall chef. For the man wore a mask of arrogance to hide the extreme sensitivity of a gentle nature. Maurice’s departure would pain him no matter what the eventual fate of the business. The fellow had been a kindred spirit and losing him proved more traumatic than Wayne would admit.