by Beth Byers
“We have the tasting cookies ready to be baked just before they come in, so they’ll be warm,” I replied. We were a stop on the chocolate tours for the next three days with our double mocha chocolate chip cookies. I sort of regretted it since we’d be working after closing time for the next three days, and I was hurting, but it should be some good extra income and draw some good attention to The 2nd Chance Diner. “We need more of the dozens ready to go for sales. It’s better to have enough ready for everyone on the first tour. Not that I expect to sell that many…but….it’ll give us an idea of how many to make for the next two tours and for the next two days. If I can get a chance, I’ll get started on more cookie dough.”
Zee grinned wickedly and said, “But…they’re coming here after the chocolate wine stop, so maybe their judgement will be impaired. We should definitely count on selling more cookies rather than less. ”
I paused, shook my head, and then asked, “Did you do that on purpose?”
“Course I did,” Zee scoffed. “Made sure of it. I wouldn’t have pressure Leroy into being a spot on the tour if I hadn’t intended on benefiting.”
I’d have been surprised if it were anyone else, but this was Zee we were talking about. Of course I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I was only startled I hadn’t realized she was up to something. She had looked like the cat who swallowed the canary after she came back from scheduling that tour a few weeks ago. Even though I’d noticed something was up, I hadn’t thought to ask her about it.
She’d also insisted on creating a pamphlet for a “DIY Chocolate Tour” once all the spots were sold out for Saturday and Sunday. I’d read the pamphlet the previous evening and noticed how many of the items on the tour “paired well” with the double chocolate chip mocha cookies found at The 2nd Chance Diner.
I laughed because what else could I do? A quick peek into the kitchen showed me Az was moving nearly at the speed of light and I said, “You, Roxy, and Lyle keep the tables running. I’m going to go help Az.”
Zee nodded and I knew I didn’t have to worry. The diner always ran well when Zee was around and I preferred cooking to serving.
“Rosie, luv,” Az said as I went into the kitchen, checked out what he was doing, and started to plate the food he was just finishing cooking. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Sore feet you mean,” I said with a grimace. “And back.”
“That too.” There was a grin in his voice, and I doubted he was feeling the day as much I was. His eyes laughed at me, and I kind of wanted to smack him, but I figured that was the back pain talking. Zee had become my best friend, but Az was my favorite employee. Being friend with Zee was like cuddling a cactus. Working with Az was having a big, protective brother around. He was always chipper, always worked hard, and always made my days better.
“Please,” I told him. “You are not wearing orthotics.”
I didn’t glance down at my shoes but they’d look good on a nurse. An older nurse. With white hair and half-moon glasses. Or possibly a librarian. Someone very…not young. I didn’t object to the shoes so much as the feeling that I was aging. I still felt like I was 25 in my head.
“You need a minute to take some ibuprofen?” His voice was gentle, and I knew he was looking out after me. The fact that I probably should take some meds irritated me even more. I couldn’t work well with Vicodin because it made me loopy, so I was alternating acetaminophen and ibuprofen and trying to stretch out my back.
I scowled and grabbed the bottle from the counter. Years of working in a call center had not prepared me to be on my feet all day. I’d lost weight for which I was grateful, but I’d gained aches and pains which frustrated me to no end.
“You should schedule a massage at the spa for Monday, Rosie luv,” Az suggested gently enough that his tone told me I’d been too grumpy that day. He was being careful, and I didn’t want him to feel the need to be careful around me.
“Oh my goodness,” I replied with a rush of hope. “You are so right. Oh geez, Az, I’m sorry I’ve been a stinker.”
I took another moment to stretch out my back, arms, and calves and then turned to the grill. Telling myself I’d run to the office to take some meds in a few minutes.
“No problem, Rosie luv.” He gave me orders on what needed to be done, since he knew what was in hand, and we worked in perfect rhythm. He kept the waffle irons running while I topped them with fruit. We had a fair number of omelets and fried eggs order. A few skillets of potatoes and eggs, but it was a heavy day for waffles. Those were hard to slam out given we were limited by the number of our irons, but we moved as quickly as we could all the same.
We’d changed our hours for the next week. Usually we were closed on Sunday and Monday, but the events of the weekend had moved our closed day to just Monday. A spa day was just what I needed. I pulled out my phone and messaged my friends, Maddie and Jane to see if they wanted to join me and determined that regardless, I was going to be spoiled following this weekend from Hades.
“This weekend is good for the town,” I told Az, trying to convince myself. I was convinced, but melancholy that I hadn’t been able to have breakfast or lunch with Simon. He was my boyfriend even though I objected to the term. Boyfriends were for teenagers. We were adults who loved each other. Maybe partners? Simon enjoyed the term ‘girlfriend’ so maybe I should get over my objections. A problem for another day, I told myself.
“We’re pretty busy today,” Az said not seeming stressed at all, “The businesses who struggle a little more than we do will be happy with this kind of turnout.”
“It’s great,” I told him, trying to sound happy. My back took that moment to shoot lighting up my spine and down my left leg, and I took a deep breath.
I looked out at the diner and watched a gentlemen close his eyes and moan a little when he tried our pot roast special. The fact that we’d hit lunch hours delighted me. We were that much closer to closing time and some Vicodin. I grinned, pointed the moaning customer out, and bumped fists with Az as I served up another pot roast special, gravy on the side, and added a side salad to the tray. The second order was the banana split waffles, and I grinned down at the tray with its weird mix of food. “It is good to be busy. I’m just achy. I hate feeling old.”
“You’re not old, Rosie luv,” he said, laughing at me. “You’re a little bit injured. That’s all. Shake it off, sweetie.”
I felt old. Which was the real problem behind my attitude. The over the counter pain killers and muscle relaxers my friend Jane had prescribed weren’t helping enough to counteract how physically hard working in the diner actually was. The tens unit and hot pads helped me a lot, but I couldn’t use those while working. I had the sticky kind of hot pads on under my clothes, but even then, I hadn’t had a chance to switch to new ones.
I was irritated and frustrated because I was in pain, and I needed to not take it out on my friends. I had hoped moving would get my back to smooth back into place, but I hadn’t been so lucky. Especially given that I’d been carrying heavy trays all morning.
“I’m going to run to the office for a minute,” I told Az. Thinking deep and longing thoughts about fresh, sticky hot pads for my back.
I was going to change those pads, take half of a muscle relaxer, and add a shot of caffeine in the hopes that any sleepy effects from the muscle relaxers would be dissipated. If I also added a few minutes of stretching, I might make it through the day without too much more trouble. Especially, after we closed for everything but the chocolate tours.
I walked across the hall and into my office where my sweet Daisy lay. She was mostly a basset hound. She got up and moseyed over to me as I scowled down at her. It wasn’t Daisy’s fault I’d lifted her.
Daisy and Mama were the only dogs I brought with me to the diner, leaving them in the office. Mama Dog, however, was home that day. I didn’t always take them both, but I did always take Daisy. Poor Duchess, Snickers, and Cherry—the three puppies I’d adopted after a fire had killed their pre
vious owner—never got to come. I snuggled Daisy since it wasn’t her fault I’d lifted her up and then I curled up into my chair before forcing myself to lean down and touch my toes.
What frustrated me was how long it was taking to heal. That frustration had been topped with guilt for being snappish to my friends and whiny to Simon. I’d struggled to get out of bed that morning and what I really wanted someone to hand me some wine, a soaking tub, and a Swede with magic massage hands. But I had pie to serve up.
“Sometimes,” I told Az as I came back into the kitchen and in order to remind myself, “I forget how lucky I am.”
“Rosie luv,” he laughed, “Don’t beat yourself up. You’ll be back to yourself in a few days.”
I made a face at Az and then checked the dining room. It was full. There was a line out the door. Roxy was clearing tables and wiping them down while Lyle and Zee were keeping the tables happy. Carmen, Lyle’s mother, was acting as hostess the moment a table was cleared, she was seating it. The perfect symphony of my staff working together brought a grin to my face, and I said, “Today isn’t going to be a day I forget how lucky I am.”
“There you go luv,” Az said, taking a moment to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Simon said to tell you he’d be by after the chocolate tours to take you home.”
Oh good. I bet he’d feed me non-diner food and probably rub my back with something that burned in the best way. Something with fire and ice in the description. Or Tiger. Knowing Simon, he might actually rub my feet too. I winked at Az, and I was sure he saw the sudden delight on my face. He grinned at me, and I might have blushed. Just a little bit.
THREE
“Oh. My. Heaven,” a woman said. Her hair was in a sharp cut, angled bob and her eyes twinkled around a mouthful of mocha cookie. The warm melted chips had spread out of her mouth a little bit—just enough to give her lip liner of chocolate. She grinned at me, utterly uncaring that the chocolate was escaping.
I grinned back. The recipe was one that Zee and I created together, and the cookies were good. They were real good. They were going to be particularly good with Vicodin, muscle relaxers, and a glass of red wine. We were selling coffee and wine with the cookies, and making way more money than I’d have guessed. Given that some of the customers were pretty tipsy from the dessert wines they’d just had, I wondered what my responsibilities were as a server of alcohol. Except it was a walking tour, and they had other people keeping an eye on them. They also had other stops to make. We were the third stop, and the tour would take quite a while longer. Maybe they’d sober up some?
I passed around another round of tasting cookies since it was the last round of the day, and we’d bake fresh again the next day. I decided that I’d mention something to the tour guide about the drunker customers and move on with my life.
The tourists were crowded around the diner, some sitting, some standing. Roxy, Carmen, and Lyle were working through them with trays of cookies. Which was my cue, I thought, to sit down. Each of the tour people was supposed to get a little bag of 2 small cookies given it was a tasting tour, but I didn’t care how many they took. I’d lost count and made extra for this round. Probably because Az talked to me into a Vicodin as the diner closed too.
None of the customers were in any hurry to leave, though I was very much in a hurry for them to go. I could hear little snippets of conversation. It seemed that most of this group knew each other. This must be the extra tour that had been added specifically to accommodate a group of people coming to Silver Falls together. I hadn’t cared at that time and didn’t care now. I just wanted them to leave, so I could relax in a bath tub. Even if Simon would have to help me get out after I got in. Given the way my back was acting, without Simon, I might drown.
“Jayla Cooperson,” the woman with the chocolate face said, gesturing to herself. “It is a pleasure to meet these cookies.”
I grinned back and said, “Rosemary Baldwin. It’s a pleasure to see you enjoy them.” The last part was a lie. Usually I loved people enjoying my food. But my back was currently spasming, and I needed nothing more than to leave the diner.
“I must have some to go,” she said, snatching a third bag from my tray. It really was more than she was allowed, but if it would get her to leave, I didn’t care. I had been heading towards Simon and dropped to the booth across from him, winced when my back shouted at me, and sighed.
Az brought me wine and Simon already had my bag. I took the Vicodin which I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to mix with alcohol. I decided to be responsible another day. That day I was going to let Simon pour me into the bath and then into bed. He was grinning at me over a pile of cookies, a glass of milk, and a cup of coffee.
“Roxy can get you a dozen or a box,” I told Jayla. I lied a smile and wished them to oblivion. Or at least out of The 2nd Chance Diner.
“Frank, we need some,” Jayla said to her companion.
He had been looking beyond Jayla, and I was pretty sure he wasn’t even aware of what she was talking about. It took him a moment to blink and then focus on her and in the time it took, her face flushed with irritation.
“We got wine at the last stop,” he groused. “And a box of truffles at the previous one.”
She shrugged. Her eyes flashed cold then, but she crossed to the counter were Roxy was checking out the visitors who wanted extra cookies or glasses of wine and to-go coffees.
I ignored them both and sipped my wine. Simon’s gaze focused on the pills I was taking and then on the wine, but he didn’t say anything. I could almost see him realize he’d be taking care of me that night, but unlike with Jayla and Frank—Simon simply took my hand and squeezed it.
I wasn’t getting up again. Not to help in any way. I stole one of Simon’s cookies since I was pretty sure muscles relaxers, wine, and Vicodin on an empty stomach was especially stupid. When he’d finished his cookies, I begged, “Take me home?”
He nodded, but he knew I wouldn’t leave until the tour was gone, so we watched them eat their cookies and talk about the day. Several had hiked through the trails by the waterfall. Several had spent the day in galleries and shopping. Others had gone for a long walk on the beach—no one had seemed to care that it had been cool and drizzly all day. I wouldn’t have either, though, if I hadn’t been working.
Zee was walking through the dining room with a tray of wine glasses and a jar for cash to buy the glasses with. As she did, she was bragging about tomorrows special. We were, apparently, making chocolate waffles with hazelnut cream. Given the cash in her jar, I knew I’d be hearing about tasting nights in the future.
Zee clearly thought a chocolate special was brilliant. I thought they’d be chocolated-out after today, but who cared? I also wasn’t sure two specials in a row of waffles was the way to go, but again, I didn’t care. My pain had risen as the afternoon progressed and it was almost 7:00 pm. Usually I was home by 3:00 pm. Given the twitchiness in my back, I had told Az I’d probably be late, and he shrugged. He and Zee would have to deal with the mounds of waffles they might end up serving up the next day.
“Where are y’all from,” Simon asked Jayla’s friend and another woman who had gotten a little too close to our table. One of them was eyeing his new pile of cookies and wondering why he got a good half-dozen full sized ones while they got two small tasters.
“We’re all professors over at Reed College,” one of them said. “I’m Stevie Lyman. This is Frank Gentile.”
Stevie pointed to the man who’d been with Jayla earlier. She was still in line buying her extra cookies and, it seemed, more wine. Her gaze, however, was fixated on where Frank’s hand was touching Stevie’s back. It seemed almost an unconscious move on his part. He’d talked to Jayla—crabbed at her really—like the other half of a couple. So what was he doing pawing Stevie?
She didn’t seem to notice Jayla’s gaze or the way I was staring at Frank’s hand on her back as she continued, “There will be 20 of us here covering the course of the weekend. We’re thinking abo
ut buying the Tidesman Apartment building all together.”
Several of their group was glancing between Stevie and Jayla and even semi-high from my Vicodin and getting progressively blurrier, I was pretty sure there was some sort of soap opera history. One woman’s mouth thinned. Another man followed the woman’s gaze, gritted his teeth, and looked away. A tall, very, very thin man took his birdlike companion’s hand, jerked his head towards Stevie and Frank, and without a word—they left their place in line and The 2nd Chance Diner.
I looked again at the woman who was chattering about how adorable Silver Falls was and how she couldn’t understand how she’d never visited before. She didn’t seem particularly draconian. Stevie was a curvy woman with a charming smile, dimples, and her short skirt barely passed her behind. She wasn’t old—maybe 45? She had the body of a younger woman though.
My eyes rose at her skirt length again. Our teenage waitress wouldn’t wear something quite so revealing. Not that it was any of my business. Not that I cared for that matter. I just expected…a suit from a professor. Or maybe a Columbia jacket and sturdy boots with no makeup and a sporty, granola look. I realized I had been type casting probably based off my own mother who taught literature at Mount Hood Community College. I scolded myself.
It was because my mother was a professor and her and all of her friends were just as I’d described in my head. I knew that all professors weren’t like that, and I suspected even less so at Reed College. Mt. Hood Community College was a very different beast in comparison to Reed College. And not because Reed cost at least 10 times the price.
Simon, who had been paying attention to Stevie, raised his brows and said, “Clever. It’s a lot for any one person to buy. But together…”
I had to think back to what they’d been talking about and realized it was something about buying that old apartment building a few blocks from the beach. I blinked a couple times, glanced again at the group of Reed College folks. Given the tension in the room, I doubted they’d make it to closing and signing paperwork before this group exploded into cat fights.