Stressed Spelled Backwards

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Stressed Spelled Backwards Page 7

by Ivanova, Svetlana


  I tried to be soothing. "You'll be all right, Ms. Celia. You're not tied up. You're in traction. It's for your racked back."

  "What good is health when my business is going to come to an end? I'm a poor woman. My tenants and customers need me! They'll starve to death or worse forget to pay their rents!"

  I tried not to judge her priorities. All I knew was that we needed to calm this old woman.

  "Don't worry about the deli. I'll run it."

  Karmen and Elise stared at me.

  "You? Ha!" came the response over the phone. "You wouldn't know a tuna from a crab!"

  "I'll have you know I've been doing a lot of cooking lately," I said in defense.

  "I'll be out of business in a week!"

  "No, you won't!" I snapped back, but Celia already hung up.

  Elise gasped. "Girl, you're sure you're in for it?"

  "This is a fourteen-hour-a-day job, no weekends off," Karmen said.

  I went to the counter and picked up Celia's ladle and shook it at her. "Just watch me, Miss. Kaverina."

  We laughed. I caught Clarice's eyes staring at me and she smiled.

  Chapter Twelve

  Because I didn't have a potty mouth like the previous proprietor, the deli was fairly quiet the next day. Celia's apron was replaced by a small petal pink one. Elise bought it for me so that I didn't look like a burrito in Celia's. Fifteen minutes after the opening, destruction had found its way into the grill and was on fire. The Lovebirds and the Pole Dancer helped me put the flames out. It took some squealing and struggling and cursing before the fire stopped.

  I returned to my eggs, waffles, and pancakes. Some people had to wait a little longer than usual, but I made it through breakfast just fine. I told everyone that Celia was on vacation in the Caribbean, and the Jogging Grandma promised to spread the word around the building to back me up. I'm not usually a lair, but my conscience just couldn't handle telling them that I was the cause of her being hospitalized.

  I would have been better if Celia hadn't called long distance from the Caribbean five times that day. She just needed to talk to me through the morning routines.

  "So, are you having a good time, Ms. Celia?" I faked giggling. "How's the weather?"

  "You're either crazy or you're having a severe case of amnesia, Miss. Kononovich," she said. "I'm hanging up here like a barbecued chicken, and you're talking about the weather?"

  "Great! Have you been to the beach?" I said when one of the tenants walked past.

  "No, I haven't been to the beach! Now listen, when the meat company delivers, weigh everything on our scale, not theirs. They're professional criminals. And when the baker comes, count all the hot dog buns or he might as well rob you blind."

  She continued to list all the things I must do and look out for. I felt like I was running an illegal business instead of the deli.

  Things quieted down until lunch when the flurry of takeout orders came for deli sandwiches. I just sliced and slapped and wrapped while talking to Celia on the phone again, which was wedged up against my hot ear. If my neck and shoulder stayed like that much longer, the hospital was going to have to save a little traction for me.

  "Don't overfill, Miss. Kononovich! I can hear you're overfilling!"

  "No kidding! You went snorkeling? What a vacation! Don't disturb yourself by calling again!" Then I hung up her on.

  The takeout orders tapered off around two, so I had plenty of time to clean up the place and get ready for the dinner hour. The first customers began trickling in around four-thirty, and among them was none other than Clarice Kingsley.

  She didn't take a seat at the booth and just grinned at me and said, "Coffee and croissant sandwich, please, Ms. Celia Jr."

  I frowned at her, and she giggled musically. I served her with a flourish, put on my best Celia voice, and said, "So, Miss. Kingsley, you're going to eat or just leisurely wasting my time?"

  She pouted. "Hey, you don't look so hot. Something wrong, Azra?"

  "I think I'm getting executive burnout," I said. "I feel like I might sprout extra hands doing this alone."

  "And where is everyone else?" she asked.

  "Elise has a fashion show to attend," I said. "And Karmen won't be home until late. Ms. McHugh now only waited on the weekend because she's still recovering."

  Clarice chewed on her bottom lip. "I can help you out if you want."

  "You?" I said and squinted my eyes at the blonde model.

  "Don't worry, I won't charge," she said and giggled a little. "I've never waited the tables before. I think it looks fun."

  I hesitated at the prospect, but I actually needed some help, and Clarice had a nice pair of extra hands at the moment, so I agreed.

  Together we served five giant course meals and a dozen more takeout orders. We took a break after the customers left and sat at my usual booth.

  "Phew! What a day!" I said, wiping the invisible sweat on my forehead. "Thank you for helping me out, Clarice."

  She suppressed a smile as she looked at me.

  "You can thank me in dessert," she said suggestively. I knew what she meant, but I didn't want to entertain her sweet fantasy, so I just shrugged.

  "Too bad, Celia doesn't serve it here," I told her.

  I watched her lovely face fell, and I instantly felt bad for it. After few seconds of silence, I scanned the deli. There were just us and the Lovebirds now, who were in the middle of their late lunch and wouldn't need attention for a while.

  "Watch the cash register," I said then got out and ran upstairs, grabbed my eggs, butter, cream chess, and vanilla fudge cake mix, and smuggled it into the deli kitchen then proceeded to work my magic. I mixed up a quick batch, stealing frequent tastes for myself, and stuck some in one of Celia's finest tall glass ice cream dishes. When I brought it out, Clarice's face broke into a bright smile. She immediately dug into the dessert and went into ecstasy. I was so pleased to see that she enjoyed it.

  "Hey," the Lovebirds called. "Let us have what she's having."

  So I made two more for them.

  "It's fantastic!" they approved. "What is it?"

  "Secret recipe," I said smugly. "It's handed down from many generations of the Slavic housewives."

  "Oh wow really? Hey, Peter, you've got to try some of this!"

  I smiled. In fact, I was just exaggerating, all I did was throwing everything that felt right into the mix, and that was it. But the thought of a dessert with authentic history perked them up even more, and I sold three more Azra's Secrets. Even Clarice got a great tip from everyone who tried one, but she said I deserved to take it since I did all the work. For the first time in my life as a hopeless model wannabe, I had cash that I'd earned with my own two hands. And I hadn't had to look up the Employment section online or make a single call. Not bad.

  Then Clarice said she had to go home, and I ran out of the counter to see her off. She smiled as I opened the door for her. But for some reason, we lingered there in silence. Twilight already settled down over the city. The streetlights were on. Clarice stood under the radiant glow, and she looked like she was missing a pair of wings. I felt a tug on my heart when I stared at her.

  "So I guess I'll see you later," she said and gave me a little wave before she turned and slowly walked away. I felt kind of sad to see her go, especially after her helping me on the first day running the deli.

  "Hey, Clarice, wait!" I said and ran up to her. She looked at me and smiled again. "Er...I was wondering...if...if you're free this Saturday?"

  She looked quite shocked and then also a bit amused. I felt my cheeks reddened as my hands fussed over the edge of my pink apron.

  "Yes, I think so," she said. "I don't have any projects at the moment. Why?"

  I was about to open my mouth to ask if she would like to go out for a movie with me when I remembered Karmen and Elise. They both would be so happy to put me on a chopping board if I betrayed them.

  "Oh, nothing! Just asking," I said. "Goodnight!"

  Then I t
urned on my heels and dashed back into the deli. From my peripheral vision, I could see Clarice stood frozen for a moment outside then she turned and walked away. I grabbed the rag from the counter and furiously wiped everything in sight. I had never felt so hopeless.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Karmen got fired from the publishing company. The charge was laziness and inappropriate dressing. In her defense, she said that the boss tried to hit on her multiple times and was pissed that she threatened to report him. Karmen was not one to succumb to patriarchal pressure in the workplace and could have won the lawsuit if she wanted. Not many people realized that she held a law degree, but she said she hated the job anyway, so she quit.

  Instead of throwing herself into the want ads, she put on the apron and came down to the deli with me.

  "It did bring back the old days working for Celia," she said. "But now I work for you."

  "This is Celia's business we're running, and we're here because we put her in the hospital," I said. I'm not the boss here, and you're not hired yet. I need to interview you first. Ever been fired before?"

  She laughed.

  "Come on, Azra! How hard can it be?" she said. "As long as my customer is not the Princess Peach, I'm the best employee you can get."

  Karmen dropped three omelets during breakfast alone. The last, which landed on the bald guy's shirt, came while I was on a transcontinental phone call from Celia.

  "What was that noise? I know that noise! No! Don't tell me! It was a breaking dishes noise!"

  "Jet-skiing? Wow, Celia, you're on fiyaaah!"

  "When they untie me, Miss. Kononovich, you better watch out for yourself!"

  As lunch approached, I left Karmen in charge and ran to the supermarket to buy more fudge cake mix and ice cream. When I returned, Karmen was comfortably engaged in a conversation with a brunette while my customers waited.

  "Hey, can we get some service over here?"

  "In a minute," called Karmen impatiently. Her eyes never left the object of his affection.

  I ran over to the irate man. "Is there a problem, sir?"

  "Yes, please take my order."

  So I took his order, and I cooked, and I served and fielded calls from Celia while Karmen flirted with some girls.

  I could bear it no longer. It was the height of the lunch hour, the deli was full, and there were Karmen and that girl, taking up a whole table for a $3.50 cup of cappuccino. So I grabbed Karmen by the elbow and dragged her back to work.

  While we were arguing, her girl ran out on the check. Karmen was livid.

  "I had her in the palm of my hand, Azra! You own me a girl!"

  "This isn't a game!" I hissed. "Clear some of those dirty tables!"

  At last, she reluctantly agreed to perform her job, but her heart wasn't in it. And it wasn't long before I overheard her on the phone, flirting with another girl. Between keeping Karmen on the leash and running the place single-handedly, I didn't get a chance to make any dessert until dinner. I made a giant batch in Celia's blender and added a little card to all the menus advertising that, for only $1.99 more, my patrons could experience the miracle of Azra's Secrets.

  Not one person ordered it. I flogged the dessert section to death with every table I waited, but there were no takers.

  I sat slump at the counter again. I found myself checking the front door of the deli, expecting to see a blonde angel coming in and inhaled my dessert with her usual oohing and aahing and smacking of those lovely lips.

  But what's the point of a heavenly dessert if there's no sweet-tooth angel to devour it?

  Karmen and I sat down staring at our untouched desserts. Karmen offered to buy them, but I said she wasn't helping my business.

  As evening approached, the other side of the street was more boisterous than usual. I forgot that Celia's business rival had the Gourmet Week. People were coming in fancy cars, dressing like they were from the Great Gatsby movie.

  A moment later, Elise showed up on horseback. Yes, an actual horse. Its coat was pure white and it even had a fake unicorn horn on its head. I felt as if I was in a twilight zone. Karmen and I went outside and gawked at her with open mouths.

  "Elise, what is this?" I asked.

  "A horse," she said as if I couldn't tell. Elise swung herself off the horse and patted the mammal lovingly. "We were shooting a commercial with Betsy here. We got along so well, so the owner lets me borrow her for a ride. Isn't she beautiful?"

  "You can't just borrow a horse, Elise!" I said. "Where are you going to keep her? In Celia's deli?"

  "Relax, Azra," she said with an eye roll. "Her caravan is just two blocks away."

  Karmen was quiet than usual as she stared at the horse. Normally, she wouldn't miss an opportunity to taunt Elise. I was starting to get worried.

  "Azra, I have an idea," she said. "This unicorn may be your ticket to succeed."

  Karmen's logics never failed to make my mind spin. She told me to make extra desserts for we were going to have a big break tonight.

  She went upstairs and changed into a less sophisticated dress. Elise wrote my dessert menu on a cute board sign and hung it over the horse's back. Once everything was ready, we stood on the sidewalk with our commercial horse and freshly made products.

  Karmen started greeting the people going into the restaurant with samples. They only stopped because they saw the unicorn behind us. Soon we attracted quite a crowd. I had to admit that Karmen's ideas, bizarre as they were, always seemed to work.

  "Vanilla, sir?" I said, proffering the dessert tray to them. "Vanilla, ma'am?"

  Elise minded the tamed horse as I vanilla'd my way through the crowd until I went up to this one lady, who dressed in all her finery and seemed to know a good dessert when she tasted one.

  "All of our entrées include a complimentary dessert du jour," I wasn't sure of what I was saying, but I just wanted to sound elegant like a French chef. She picked one of my beautifully decorated Azra's Secrets and I stepped back, holding my breath.

  And had I ever picked the right lady. Much more enthusiastic than Clarice, she savored every drop, raving loudly to her other friends, and before I knew it, she was begging for the recipe. I told her should visit our deli for a variety of goodies if she would like.

  About an hour later, the same woman and a dozen of her friends showed up in our deli before I started on my second blenderful because the whole first batch was sold and gone. More customers came through our door after their Gourmet Week. Elise and Karmen waited on them.

  Every booth was filled with well-dressed people enjoying my dessert; it almost brought joyful tears to my eyes.

  That night alone, I sold twenty-five vanilla and chocolate dishes and ten strawberry cakes. It seemed like an overnight success!

  But there was something missing. In the back of my mind, I wanted to share this with a certain someone. There was one strawberry shortcake left. With a snap decision, I packed it into a small box and borrowed Elise's borrowed horse for a quick ride.

  I didn't know if it was because I felt bad or something, but riding a horse to deliver a cake to Clarice Kingsley was something I never thought I would do.

  And I didn't blame people for staring at a girl in her pink apron, riding a horse disguised as a unicorn along the street of New York City.

  Once I reached Clarice's house, I called out to her like a knight from a medieval calling a lady at her castle. Luckily, Clarice was home. Her head popped out of the window and looked down at me. She gasped.

  "Azra!" she said. "What are you doing here?"

  "I brought you a cake," I said.

  She came down to meet me with wide eyes.

  "What is this?"

  "A strawberry cake?" I said. She laughed and gave a light slap on my thigh. I giggled along and then handed her the dessert.

  "I'm surprised, no one stopped you along the way," she said.

  "So am I," I said with a shrug. There was a silence between us as we stared at each other.

  "Well, thank y
ou for the cake, Azra, that's very sweet of you, no pun intended," she said and we giggled again. Then she waved goodnight and turned to go back inside again. I watched her walking up to her front door, but something in the way she moved made me call her back.

  "Hey, Clarice, you want to have a quick ride on this unicorn?" I said.

  She turned back with a big smile and nodded. After she put the cake away, I helped her got onto the horseback then swung myself up behind her. Her back pressed against my chest. I was careful not to touch her too much, but it was inevitable. Clarice didn't seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to lean back against me comfortably.

  I jerked the saddles for Betsy to go forward. As the horse started to move, Clarice gripped my arm with a squeal of glee. Our cheeks brushed gently as we rode. Good thing that she couldn't see the color on my heated face.

  The next moment, we were trotting down the block to a nearby park. We went under the bridge and into the garden. The garden was lit up with beautiful lights at night.

  There were young couples in the park, strolling hand in hand. I let Clarice hold the rein when I deemed it safe. When Betsy went up a small grassy hill, I clung onto her waist for balance. Then I quickly released her when I realized it, but Clarice caught my hands back and wrapped them around herself.

  "You might fall," she said, turning half way to look at me. Her green eyes pierced through my heart. I guessed she didn't know I might have already fallen hard.

  Chapter fourteen

  I had trouble getting to sleep that night, even though I was really bushed from the day activities. Last time I checked, Clarice Kingsley was positively dating my two best friends. Karmen and Elise were both warring against each other to impress her. If they had figured out that I quite casually slipped and got myself tangled up in the web of Clarice's charm and allure, the biggest mess in Celia's building could very easily be my life.

  My routine was becoming settled. At six A.M. I'd rush down to the deli, set the coffee machine, heating up the grill, and defrosting the meat. The Pole Dancer was usually just coming home from work, so I'd mix her a double Alka-Seltzer cocktail and send her upstairs. Then I'd lock up and out for my morning walk. By the time I came back and showered, I was ready to open for the day.

 

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