by Sandra Byrd
“Hello,” I said. “This is Alexandra Stuart. You e-mailed me this morning about the recipe job?”
“Ah yes, Ms. Stuart. So nice to hear from you. I loved the enthusiasm in your letter and the fact that you already use Allrecipes.com. When can you come in for an interview? I am interviewing every afternoon this week between two and four.”
I’d opened early today, so I could leave by three. Tomorrow and the next day I’d have to stay later.
“Would today be too soon?” I asked. “Four o’clock?”
“Not at all,” he said. “I look forward to seeing you then.”
I hung up, nervous, not knowing what I’d do if he offered me the job.
I helped Patricia scrub down the entire bakery. It took hours, and my hands were red. She didn’t notice or even make polite conversation.
“Margot will be here in a few days,” she barked. “Everyone from France is coming next week. I want things to look perfect!”
I looked forward to Margot’s arriving. She had to be easier to work with than Patricia.
Once we’d finished, Patricia took two small, identical stainless steel bowls of cream out of the walk-in.
“Before we wash these, I want you to taste something,” she said. She dipped a clean spoon into each and bid me to taste them, which I did.
“This one,” I said, pointing at the first, “is sweeter. And maybe not as evenly blended.”
I tasted the second one again. “Not as sweet, but creamier.”
“Bon,” Patricia said gruffly. “Which cream would you use with the mille-feuille?”
“The second, less-sweet one,” I said, “because the mille-feuille has a sweet glaze.”
“Correct,” Patricia said. “And what would you use the other one for?”
I ran through some options in my mind. “Cream puffs?”
She gave a stiff nod. “Oui. The first one, the sweeter cream, was the one you made last week. It was adequate.”
Adequate was high praise from Patricia.
“But I shouldn’t have used it in the mille-feuille,” I said. “Too sweet, right?”
“Too sweet,” she agreed. “Hopefully, you’ve learned something.” She pursed her lips, indicating her doubt.
I felt almost honored that she was teaching me something. “Thank you.”
She wordlessly handed me both bowls, and I went back into the kitchen to wash them. I had a lot to learn.
Even taking the stress of the French visitors into account, Sophie seemed weird to me. She avoided me all day, not meeting my gaze and making excuses about why she had to be at the other end of the restaurant whenever we worked together. I offered to drive her home, and she politely refused.
“I’m going to look at an apartment after work.”
“Sophie, how great!” I said. “Tell me all about it.”
Reluctantly, it seemed, she told me it was a studio near L’Esperance, so that she could walk to and from work. “It has a peek view of the Sound too,” she said.
“I’m so glad!” I told her. “I know how much that view of the Sound means to me at my new place. We’ll be neighbors! Within a few blocks of each other.”
“Cool!” she agreed, but she seemed sad. After finishing her work, she went to the back to talk with the Trois Amis, and I opened the cash register to count out the bulk of it and give it to Luc for the afternoon deposit.
Under the cash drawer were this week’s pay envelopes. I grabbed mine to put into my purse. Below mine lay Sophie’s. The wording on her envelope caught my eye.
Sophie Straccia, Assistant Manager, L’Esperance I picked it up. What?
Sophie came back to the front.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. I probably looked as malarial on the outside as I felt on the inside.
I still held her pay envelope. “I wasn’t snooping,” I said, trying to find my footing. “I was just getting my paycheck.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Lexi,” she said. “The accountant brought the checks before lunch. I know Luc has been meaning to talk with you. He asked me not to say anything until he told you himself, but he’s been swamped. And he just asked me a day or two ago.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, congratulations.”
How could she? Didn’t she know I was hoping for that job?
Well, no, she didn’t. We’d never talked about it. Luc had never mentioned it to either of us. I’d just assumed…and she was probably hoping for that job too.
Luc walked in. He must have guessed from my expression and general confusion what had happened. “Alexandra? Could we meet in my office for a moment?”
I wordlessly handed Sophie her pay envelope, then followed Luc into the office. He closed the door.
“Alexandra,” he said, “Please let me express my deepest regret for not talking with you about this sooner. I have been so busy preparing for our guests from France that some things got away from me.”
“No worries,” I mumbled. “You certainly have the right to do what you need to do here.”
Luc nodded. “Yes, but you are very important to me, and I didn’t want you to find this out in this way. Sophie has been with us for almost a year, and I felt she needed to have the opportunity to be the assistant manager, if she wanted it.”
“She doesn’t speak French,” I said miserably, trying to point something in my favor. As soon as it was out of my mouth, though, I realized how petty it sounded. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t nice.
“Non, non, it’s fine,” Luc said. “C’est vrai, she doesn’t speak French. But, in reality, she doesn’t need to speak French to do a good job as an assistant manager. And she is a good organizer.”
He paused. “You have many talents, Alexandra. And someday you may find yourself managing the front house of a bakery too. Although, I doubt it.”
He, too, thought I was an underperformer. I sighed deeply.
Since seeing that closing schedule, I’d been thinking in the back of my head that he might ask Sophie to be the manager. She was there first. But then, I thought, he might train me to manage the next bakery his family opened. But now he was saying that wasn’t going to happen either.
“I think very highly of you,” he said, taking my hand in his. “Very highly. And I do think you have a future.” He looked deeply into my eyes. “One that is becoming more and more clear to me.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, heart pounding. I tried not to focus on his hand holding mine. Is he suggesting that he and I might have a future together?
“First, I must check on some details. I promise to speak with you soon.” The telephone rang. He chatted for a minute, and it was clear it was something that needed his immediate attention. “We will talk more later, Alexandra, I promise,” he said, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. “Do you need to go home for the rest of the day?”
Although I didn’t need to, he was offering me an opportunity. I could go home, shower again after working in the bakery all day, and put on some clean clothes before the Allrecipes.com interview.
“Maybe just a little early,” I said. He looked sympathetic. It made me feel worse. He was letting me off early so I could go to a job interview that might result in my leaving before the promised six months.
I exited Luc’s office and found Sophie in the café. “I’ve got to help in the bakery,” I said. “Is everything under control up here?”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “It’s fine.”
I started walking toward the bakery—shuffling, really—then turned back. “Sophie?”
“Yeah?”
“I really am glad for you,” I said. “You earned it.”
She walked over and hugged me. “Thanks, Lexi. I wasn’t sure how you were going to take it. I thought maybe you’d be interested in the position, but then I thought, Nah, she’d rather work in a bakery than run a café!”
I wouldn’t be running anything except my car engine. If it even turned over this afternoon.
She went back to work, a bounce
in her step, and I squeezed back tears. There was no way I could afford to move into my apartment now if I kept working here.
I left work a bit later, called Tanya, and left a message on her voicemail. She was probably in an after-school meeting.
“I didn’t get the job; Sophie did. Please pray for me. I have another job interview this afternoon, and I’m really confused about everything.”
Then I turned my phone all the way off and drove home, passing my apartment building. I looked longingly at it, not knowing what to do. I drove down 1-5 and onto the West Seattle Bridge, but instead of heading up the hill, toward home, I went down, toward the beach. It was a weekday, and cool and blustery. I’d probably have the place to myself.
I parked the car, took a blanket out of the trunks emergency kit that Dad had packed for me, and walked toward the sand.
I kicked my shoes off and dug in my heels. I closed my eyes and let the tears course down.
God, what am I going to do now?
I’d meant what I’d said to Sophie. I understood that she’d been there longer than me and had paid those dues. But hadn’t I paid some dues, too, working hard through college?
I let the tears dry on my face and the wind whip some pink into my golden skin. I liked the windburn. It made me feel on the outside how I felt on the inside.
I needed to pull myself together. I had a job interview for a job I’d really like, that might get me out of the dead end in which I suddenly found myself. But if I got it, and I took it, I’d be breaking my agreement with Luc and letting him and Sophie down when they needed me most.
When I got home, my mom was in the family room, packing photo albums and scrapbooks. “Come on in, honey,” she called. “So much to do! Are you sure you don’t want to come to Whidbey with Dad and me next weekend?”
I didn’t answer. She didn’t look up.
“Then the shower, the wedding, Italy, and oh my, moving in,” she continued. She finally looked up and saw the expression on my face. “Lexi! What’s the matter?” She set the scrapbook down.
“Sophie got promoted to assistant manager,” I said. “And Luc said he couldn’t really see me in that position anytime in the future.”
“Well, why ever not?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know; it wasn’t the time to ask.”
She pulled me to her, and I folded into her arms like I did as a girl. You never outgrow the need for a hug from your mom, I thought.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Go to the Allrecipes interview at four,” I said.
“That might be just the place for you. Do you know how much they pay?”
I shook my head. I’d find out soon, I hoped.
I showered and wrapped my hair in a towel, then sat on my bed and thought about what to wear to the interview. I had to leave in half an hour. I spotted my Bible on the nightstand and picked it up on impulse, searching for the verse I’d read a couple weeks ago.
“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”
I closed my eyes and prayed. I’m not a sparrow, Lord, but I feel like Im falling to the ground. Please catch me. And put me in the nest in which I belong.
By the time I’d located Allrecipes on Third Street, I was starting to get excited. It was really close to my parents’ house, but I’d been commuting to Seattle every day, anyway, and if I took the cool apartment, I could certainly drive here. I felt pretty good about things.
“I’m here to see Cameron,” I said to the receptionist.
She seemed very kind and asked me to sit while she paged him. A few minutes later, he came forward.
“Alexandra?” he asked in that deep voice with its lovely lilt.
I stood, getting a good vibe already.
He showed me into his office. “Tell me about yourself and the kind of job you’re looking for.”
I told him about my college degree and lifelong love of food and recipe experimentation, from Jell-O cube salad as a girl to Boyfriend Bait Beef Stroganoff.
He laughed aloud. “Who named that?”
“My roommate said it was boyfriend bait so that’s what I decided to call it. Boyfriend Bait,” I said proudly.
“Let me tell you about the job,” he said. “It’s entry level, inputting recipes when needed, organizing our online files, sometimes checking things out if something seems wrong with an entry. You’d be technical support, but there would be some chance to interact with the food now and then.”
Entry level. Well, as Nate said, I wasn’t going to be vice president out of the chute. “Is there room for advancement?” I asked.
“Definitely.”
We chatted for a few minutes longer, and then the interview was over. I’d flunked enough interviews to know when one had gone wrong, and this one had not!
Cameron shook my hand. “I’ll be contacting people in the next few weeks,” he said. “Thank you for coming in.”
“Thank you for interviewing me,” I said. “I appreciate your time.”
On the way home, I felt hopeful. The job had a lot of promise, and if I did leave L’Esperance, it would make it easier to date Luc.
But there was still Sophie. I truly didn’t want to leave her in a pinch when she was getting her first crack at management. Plus, Luc seemed pretty set on heading back to France this summer.
Despite my new hope, none of my questions were easier to answer.
At home, I changed into some jeans and sat in the hammock in the backyard. I’d brought my Bible outside. After reading a bit of Matthew earlier, I decided to get chapter twenty-two done as well. Only six more chapters and I’d have read the whole thing.
I opened the Bible and nearly closed it again. A chapter about a wedding and a bridegroom. I couldn’t escape weddings and romance no matter where I turned, even in my Bible, for heaven’s sake. No pun intended.
Who was I going to invite? Maybe this was encouragement to ask Luc. Yeah!
I read further. “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
God, I’ve been trying, trying, to love you with all my heart and soul and mind. I just don’t know what else to do, and I’m not feeling good about church.
I should try another church. Maybe that little Church on the Hill in Ballard. I went into the house, looked them up online, and smiled. I’d go Sunday.
A few minutes later, I heard some commotion in the house and realized Nate and Leah were here. I went into the kitchen and saw them sitting with my parents.
“Hey!” Leah stood and gave me a big hug. She looked so happy.
“What are you guys up to?” I asked.
“Oh, we’re just getting ready to sign a lease on an apartment,” Nate said. “Nothing like yours, according to Leah, but okay for now. We’ll live there for a few years until we buy something, and that will be fine.”
“Oh good! I’m glad you found something,” I said with forced cheerfulness, wondering if I could even keep my apartment.
“I can’t wait for my wedding shower,” Leah said. “My mom isn’t bugging you, is she?”
I chuckled. “Nope. I’m screening my calls. But seriously, she’s handled almost everything by herself and taken all my suggestions. She’s been good.”
I stayed and chatted for a few more minutes, then made up a reason to excuse myself. Everything was going perfectly for Nate and Leah, and the comparison to my own tattered life was more than I could handle after my day.
The next morning I arrived at L’Esperance early, like every Saturday. Sophie was already there.
“Hey, it’s my early day,” I said.
“I’m trying to come in early every day now,” she said, blushing. “Anyway, you’ll never
guess who called me last night.”
“Who?” I asked, wiping down the coffee machine. “Roger?”
She made a face. “Nah, we’re kaput. I don’t think I’m going to date anyone for a while until I get my head straight about the job and why I keep picking Rogers.” She shook her head. “No, it was Michelle.”
“Michelle?” I asked, not able to place the name.
“From your church group. She asked if I was going to the barbecue tonight, and I told her you’d already asked me weeks ago. If it’s still okay with you, I’d like to come.”
I sighed inwardly and fixed on a smile before turning to her. “Oh, I’m sorry. When you said no, I made other plans. I promised my mom I’d bake a cake with her tonight. I know that sounds crazy, but they’re moving soon, and this is her preschool class’s graduation cake…”
Sophie held up her hand. “Say no more. It’s fine! I’ll go another time.”
“No, no, you can…borrow my car,” I said. I wanted her to go, but how would I get to church tomorrow?
Sophie stopped wiping down the mirrors. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really. Take me home tonight. We’ll bring the bread over to Pete’s and then you can have the car until the morning. I’ll get a ride to work after church, and we’ll be set.”
“Thanks,” Sophie said softly. “If there’s any way I can help you, here at work or anything, let me know.”
“I will,” I said.
Later that night, after Sophie had dropped me off, my mom and I packed some of the kitchen and then baked several cakes. We took a break to let them cool before frosting them, and I heard her talking with my dad in the next room.
“I guess Nate and Leah won’t take that apartment after all,”
she said. “There’s going to be bridge construction nearby for six months, and Nate doesn’t think he could handle the noise.”
It’s too bad they couldn’t find someplace nice like mine, I thought.
“Maybe they could,” came the voice inside of me. It was so clear, I dropped a pan on the floor. “You okay?” my mom called from the other room. “Yes,” I answered.