I snuck over to the living room window and peeked from behind the curtains just in time to see Mitchell walking up his path. Damn him for being so cute. Almost as if he’d heard my thoughts, he paused in his tracks, lifted his gaze to me and waved.
Shit. Now I felt even more foolish.
she needs a man in her life
Suddenly business was improving. On the fourth night, Jake was in a panic. “How are we going to seat all these people?” He counted the reservations. “Can you believe this? We’re overbooked. It never occurred to me to count the number of guests. Just last week, two tables was a good night.”
“How many places are we short?” I looked around the empty room. Originally, Toni and I had made the decision to have fewer tables, on the theory that more tables would only emphasize how empty we were. Could it already be time to add some seating? “Are you sure we can’t seat another few people?”
“We need one more table for four.”
“Wait a minute.” An idea took shape. The prep table from the kitchen. “Jake, come help me.” Together we pulled and tugged all the dining room tables away from the window, until we’d opened a space for one extra table. Covered with a tablecloth, no one would be able to tell the difference.
“They’re all different shapes and sizes, anyhow,” Jake pointed out. “But what do we do for chairs?”
I rubbed my chin. “There’s no way four chairs will fit into my car, but Toni’s is big enough.” I glanced at my watch. “She’s probably on her way here now. Call her on her cell and ask her to swing by the antique shops near Roncesvalles. They have plenty of secondhand chairs. Tell her we need four.”
Jake picked up the phone. “I guess it would be too much to ask for them to be fuchsia?”
“I’ll tell you what, Jake. If it offends your sense of decor that much, you can paint them yourself tomorrow.”
“Me and my big mouth,” he muttered.
While Jake punched in Toni’s number, I hurried to the kitchen and gathered salt and pepper shakers, candles and holders, and four full place settings. “Now help me set this table.” We hurriedly placed everything on the table and stood back.
Jake looked at the ceiling. “None of the chandeliers are centered anymore.”
I looked at my watch. “The first customers will be here in less than an hour.”
“There’s a hardware store about a block up the street.” Without further explanation, he was out the door. Ten minutes later, he was back with packages of screw-in hooks.
He climbed on top of a table and screwed a perfectly centered hook in the ceiling, then took hold of the nearest chandelier and clipped the chain to the new hook. When he finished, the only table without an overhead chandelier was the new one in front of the window. Jake disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with a candelabra Toni and I had bought months ago but never used.
“Voila!” he declared, centering it. “And just imagine how glamorous that will look from outside.”
“I could have done that myself,” I teased.
“Well, you didn’t. That just goes to show, no matter how independent you think you are, you still need a man in your life.”
I laughed. “Sure I do, like a bullet in the head.” But for some reason, Mitchell immediately popped into my mind.
Minutes before the first customers were due to arrive, a harried-looking Toni came stumbling in through the back entrance. “I need help.” Jake and I followed her to the alley and burst out laughing. The roof of Toni’s beautiful BMW was stacked high with chairs.
“This looks like an IKEA commercial,” Jake said.
“How many chairs did you get?” I asked.
“Ten. The owner made me a deal. He agreed to charge me ten bucks apiece, as long as I took them all.”
“You’re good at this. You should do all our negotiating.”
“I don’t intend on ever doing that again. Do you have any idea how many people were staring at me on my way here?”
We brought the chairs inside, washed off the dust and decided that only seven of them were salvageable. Jake nodded approvingly. “Now we don’t have to turn anyone away.”
The bell above the door tinkled and Jake hurried out to greet the guests. For the rest of the evening, we all rushed about, pitching in wherever we were needed. Charles, Scott, Marley and I diced, chopped and blended as fast as we could. Even Toni ran about, helping Jake with the service. By the end of the evening, when we tallied the numbers, we had served eighteen people, twelve bottles of wine and twenty-two courses. Our Skinny Menu had brought in more money in one night than our full-fat one ever had.
Toni stared at the balance sheet in disbelief. “This is amazing. If we’re that successful so soon, it won’t be long that we’ll be fully booked all the time. We’ll need more tables, more chairs. Maybe this place isn’t big enough. We’ll need a larger space.”
“Whoa there, partner. Not so fast. I’ve been studying the reservation book and there’s a lot we can do before we even think of moving to a bigger place. We can stay right here and still increase our numbers.”
“How do you propose we do that? Stack our customers like sardines?” Toni asked.
“Don’t be silly. We’re still a far way from being that busy. But look here.” I pointed at the open page. “Most bookings are for eight o’clock. If we steer our customers toward earlier and later times, we can fit in two sittings per table each evening.”
I flipped a few pages, pointing along the way. On every page, the early hours had few bookings, as did the later hours.
Toni put down the deposit book and nodded. “That’s smart. Tell them we only have openings at seven and nine. Most people will accept that. If they argue, we find a cancellation.”
* * *
When I left for home later, I was beyond tired. But I didn’t care. The restaurant was taking off, and the money would soon pour in. No more financial worries—now there was something to look forward to. And in just a few days I would trap Harry, and I would no longer be a suspect. And just as important, I’d no longer go around suspecting everyone around me. Life was definitely looking up.
I turned onto my walk, darting a quick glance at Mitchell’s dark front window. He was probably fast asleep by now, not surprising since most people were in bed by the time I got home. It was just as well, I told myself. After that little episode on the street a few mornings ago, he was just about the last person in the world I wanted to see. If that was true, why did my heart sink when I didn’t catch a glimpse of him?
I walked into my house and punched in my alarm code. “Jackie, I’m here,” I called, expecting her to run over and greet me. “Jackie,” I called out again, heading for the kitchen. Sure enough, she was napping on the mat in front of the sink. “There you are, little girl. What’s the matter? Is your tummy hurting?” I carried her to the back door for her evening pee-pee. She slipped out by her doggie door and I watched through the window as she hopped down the steps slowly. Within two minutes, she was back.
Showered and in fresh pajamas, I crawled into bed with Jackie. “Here, baby. You can sleep right here.” I moved the second pillow to the foot of the bed and gently placed her on it. Soon she was snoring.
* * *
I was having my second mug of coffee with Jackie on my lap and one hand on her tummy when I feel a small flutter against my palm. Was this what I thought it was? I pressed gently and held my breath. Yes, it was. I could feel faint flickers, like butterfly wings. Jackie looked up at me. “I can feel them, Jackie. I can feel your babies.”
She squirmed out of my hands, hopped to the floor and lumbered to her favorite spot, the rug in front of the sink. Poor little thing, she was probably uncomfortable. “It won’t be long, little girl. One month, that’s all.”
As I left the house, I noticed an envelope stickin
g out of my mailbox. I pulled it out and tore it open. Inside was a note.
Dear Nicky,
I hope you’ve forgiven me my tactless teasing. Am I still invited to your dinner party Sunday?
Your neighbor,
Mitchell
My already good spirits rose even higher. I retrieved a pen from my bag and quickly scribbled a reply.
How can I stay angry with the man who saved my life?
See you Sunday at seven.
Nicky
Besides, the man had seen my fat ass and wanted me anyway. I marched off to work, almost skipping for joy.
* * *
Saturday morning I woke to the sun streaming in through my bedroom window. A gorgeous day, I thought. Then I remembered I had a million things to do in preparation for the next day’s dinner. Now that it loomed so close, I couldn’t help feeling nervous. What if things went wrong? What if Harry Johnson became violent? A picture of him pulling a knife on me popped into my mind. I quickly brushed it aside. Unless I trapped Harry myself, the police would probably keep me as prime suspect for the rest of my life. I wasn’t about to turn back now.
I climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves. It wasn’t exactly a high-fashion outfit, but I was thrilled nonetheless. The last time I’d worn these jeans, I’d had to pull and tug at the zipper. Today, it zipped effortlessly. I was so happy that I allowed myself a full-length inspection in the closet-door mirror. Jackie watched silently.
“What’s the matter, Jackie? Are you worried you might not be the prettiest girl around here anymore?” Jackie harrumphed in disgust and trotted away. “Sorry, little girl, but you’re the only fat one in this house now.” From down the hall, I heard a growl.
I turned to the mirror. I was hardly what anyone would call slender. In fact, by Toni’s modeling standards I’d be considered a plus size. But I didn’t care. I looked good. I still had curves, but now they were in all the right places. I had a waist. It was incredible how fifteen pounds could make such a difference.
I closed the closet door. “Okay, Jackie. Time for a walk.”
We strolled around the block, Jackie, of course, refusing to cooperate. She pulled and tugged on the leash until I gave in and went to the park. “I swear, you are testing my patience today. I’m having guests to dinner tomorrow. I have to prepare. We don’t have time to visit your boyfriend.”
Yap, yap, yap—her way of telling me to quit bitching. I sped up until Jackie’s short legs were hardly more than a blur. Funny how energetic she suddenly became when she sensed the possibility of seeing Charlie.
Luckily, Charlie was nowhere around—otherwise, getting Jackie out of the park would have been a challenge. I walked her in one end of the park and out the other before she realized we were heading home. She dug in her heels and I dragged her the rest of the way. Sometimes that tiny dog could be so obstinate.
Inside, Jackie sulked off to her crate while I pulled out my recipe books and listed the ingredients I needed for tomorrow night’s dinner. After reviewing all I had to do, I figured that unless I took a few hours off from work, I would never be ready in time. I picked up the phone, imagining what Toni would say. But to my surprise, she didn’t argue.
“Don’t worry about it. Take the whole day off if you like,” she said. “Normally I’d say we need you at work, but I know you have a lot riding on tomorrow evening. Charles and I can handle it for one night. Besides, you always put in more than your fair share of work.” True, but all those hours were what had kept me sane over the past month.
By ten o’clock, I was out of the house and on my way to St. Lawrence Market. With the entire day off, I could afford to take my time, browse through the food stalls and search for just the right ingredients.
* * *
A few hours later, I was hurrying up my walk, loaded with groceries, when I spotted Maria Fernandez next door, sweeping her stoop. The woman had been so kind to help me search for Jackie. That was already a month ago and I’d never really thanked her. I set my bags just inside the door and hurried across the lawn to see her.
Maria waved my apology away. “Don’t worry about it. I know how busy you are. I was just about to have some tea. Come in, come in. I’ll put on a pot.” She gestured me in. “I saw you taking your little dog for a walk the next day. I was so relieved that you’d found her. Where was she?” I was about to launch in when a stooped, gray-haired woman with a face like a dried apple came limping up behind Maria.
“I can’t find my glasses,” the old lady said.
“I’ll find them for you, Mama.” Maria patted the woman on the shoulder. To me, she smiled and said, “Mama is always losing her glasses. I’ll go find them and be right back.”
I waited in the living room while Maria hurried up the stairs. Her mother stood staring at me through rheumy eyes.
“Hello. I’m your next-door neighbor.” I extended my hand, but she ignored it and continued to peer at me.
“Are you the girl I saw stabbing that man a few weeks ago?”
“What?” I stood slack jawed. “You saw Rob get stabbed?” I asked, regaining my senses.
“I never sleep. I haven’t slept in years. I just lie awake all night long and wait for morning.”
Maria walked in and handed her mother her glasses. “Here you go, Mama. Now let’s get you back to your room. It’s time for your nap.”
“Wait!” I stopped Maria. “Your mother just said she saw Rob get murdered.”
Maria shook her head and smiled apologetically. “Mama is nearly blind. She couldn’t possibly have seen anything. Mama, why do you say things like that?”
The old lady scowled. “My eyes aren’t so good but I can hear just fine, and I heard every word those two said.”
“What did they say?” I asked. “Please, tell me.”
“Mama, you never told me this.” Maria said, steering her mother to a chair.
“You never asked,” replied her mother petulantly. “Even when the police came, nobody asked me. It’s like I don’t even exist around here.”
“Do you remember what they said?” I asked, again, holding my breath.
“Of course I do. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m senile,” she said, circling a finger around her ear. “I can remember just fine.”
“What did they say?” I pleaded.
“I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.” She scrunched up her face. “They were arguing about some kind of medicine. The girl was saying that somebody could die, and the man was saying that he would get caught.”
“Are you sure it was a girl? Could it have been a man?”
“I told you. It was a girl,” she snapped back.
“Did they mention the kind of drug?” I asked, patiently.
The old woman yawned and continued, as if to herself, “They used plenty of foul language, her as much as him. It was shocking. In my day, a lady never used language like that. A lady was a lady back then.” She looked at Maria. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed now.” The old woman looked at me again, squinting. “Are you sure that wasn’t you?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Maria walked me to the door. “Some days she’s well, others, she’s…” She tapped her forehead. “She’s tired right now. I’d better let her sleep.”
food is an important part
of a balanced diet
In my kitchen, I played the old woman’s words over as I put away the groceries. It was just as I’d suspected. The motive had been drugs, but the argument had been between a man and a woman. So Harry Johnson was innocent after all. Dammit. I was back at square one…or was I?
Harry Johnson’s high-pitched voice could have been mistaken for a woman’s. I was already convinced that he was the one who’d ransacked my place. It was so logic
al, I couldn’t shake the theory. Besides, if he wasn’t the murderer, then who?
I was putting away the groceries when the doorbell rang. I hurried down the hall, and Toni came sweeping in. “Whoa, you look so skinny in those jeans. Have you been eating?”
“Of course I have.”
She struck a model’s stance and pointed a finger at me. “Don’t forget, food is an important part of a healthy diet.”
I shrugged her concern away. “You won’t believe it.” I told her about running into Maria Fernandez and what her mother had to say. “Have you noticed how high-pitched Harry Johnson’s voice is? Doesn’t it sound like a woman’s?”
“You’re right,” she agreed.
“I’ve been thinking about that story of Mrs. Grant’s, how she learned about Rob’s drug problem? I think it might have a bit different from what she told me.”
Toni’s eyebrows shot up. “You think she lied?”
“No, I think Harry and Rob pulled a fast one on her.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to call her right now.” I picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, Mrs. Grant, this is Nicky.” After a few words of polite conversation, I explained the reason for my call. “Do you remember when you told me that Harry Johnson once caught Rob stealing painkillers from the hospital?” Mrs. Grant mmm-hmm’d in acknowledgement. “This might sound like an odd request, but would you mind describing the scene to me? I have an idea about who killed Rob and I just want to check something first.”
As soon as I’d said that, I immediately regretted it. Mrs. Grant was now frantic.
“No, I haven’t heard anything new,” I told her regretfully. “If I do, you’ll be the first to know, I promise.” I listened for a few minutes. “I see…Yes…I understand.” After she finished, I thanked her and hung up.
I turned to Toni. “Turns out, when Rob lived with his mother—”
Getting Skinny Page 24