Spaghetti, Meatballs, & Murder

by Beth Byers

  Zee passed our table, filled Simon’s coffee cup without a word and then snapped at the man the next booth over, “That’s enough coke for you, Leroy. You’re hanging over the top of your jeans again.”

  “Zee, you old cow,” Leroy replied mildly, “That’s no way to get a tip.”

  “Your wife finds out you stiff me, Leroy Parker, and you’ll hear about it later. Especially for looking after you. You think she wants you to keel over dead?” Zee considered for a moment and then said, “Well, maybe she does. I’m sure you don’t appreciate her.”

  “Now, Zee,” Leroy said, dropping cash on the table, “Don’t be like that.”

  A few moments later, our second waitress came through the door. She was young, late everyday, but everyone loved her and she worked hard once she finally showed up.

  “You’re late, Tara,” Zee snarled as she took down an order, set it in front of a man at the bar, and filled coffee cups down the line of the bar.

  “Sorry Zee,” Tara yelped and ran to the back.

  I grinned at Simon as Jane put her cash on the table. She stopped long enough to say, “Have a good one. Are you doing the spaghetti thing?”

  I nodded. Jane winked and left adjusting her coat over her scrubs.

  Simon leaned back, took a slow sip of his coffee, and set his cup back down. I had to grin at the sheer laziness of his movements. Every once in a while, he reminded me of his old dog that snuggled into every spot, lolled about, lived for lengthy stretches. I didn’t really get his life. Was Silver Falls really so lacking in single women that he was alone? I liked myself well enough, but he seemed far more handsome than someone with my thickish behind, frizzy red hair, and the new zit on my chin could interest. I liked myself well enough, but for too long no one else had seen anything about me to like. Why did he?

  Nope, Rose, I thought—enough of that. I was awesome. I’d just been looking for someone who recognized how great I was. I wasn't sure I found that in Simon, but I wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn't somehow out of my class. Frizzy hair or not.

  “You doing ok with Zee?” He glanced towards the sour woman where she was flashing a rare bit of sweetness as she talked to a young mom and her two little kids.

  “I’m not worried about Zee,” I said. I grinned, looked over my shoulder to ensure that Zee couldn’t hear me and said, “She’s delightfully spicy.”

  Simon leaned forward just a bit, with his gaze on my lips, and said, “I’m glad you think so.”

  He didn’t kiss me, but I was pretty sure he’d been thinking about it.

  “Sunday? Spaghetti and meatballs? Blind taste test?”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  My grin couldn’t be kept back, but I could clear the table to feel a little less awkward about how excited I was.

  * * * * *

  “Tara,” I said on Sunday, as she left for her break before the spaghetti event. “Be on time for the event, please.”

  “Sure, Rose,” Tara said as she ran out the door. She hadn’t been on time yet, but I reminded myself that I liked her. Az told me she’d broken up with her boyfriend, but given that she’d been unreliable since she was hired—according to Zee—I didn’t think that was much of an excuse. I suspected that she was just one of those people who thought you could do more in 10 minutes than was possible.

  “She’s never going to be on time,” Zee snapped. “I suppose you’ll fire her even though she’s a dumb kid.”

  “Daisy likes her,” I said to Zee mildly. “I think we’ll keep her around.”

  “I’ve been on the clock all day,” Zee snapped. “I’m sitting down with my girls and having some pasta. And don’t think I’ll be here in the morning. Cause I won’t. We haven’t been open on Mondays in all my days here and that’s my day off.”

  “I hope you have a good time with your friends. Monday is still our day off,” I said mildly as the first of our customers came in for the event.

  We had closed at 2:00 pm and opened again at 4:30 pm, but we’d all stayed behind to help in the kitchen. I had no idea how many meatballs to make, but I didn’t want to run out. Az assured me we’d be fine, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d rather have way too many and serve them in weird ways in the coming days or give them to the local pet shelter before I’d have too few.

  The 2nd Chance Diner filled up faster than I’d have expected. I didn’t think free iced tea, coffee, or soda would have been that much of a draw. And yet…my tables were all full. Even with the free drinks, I could see the money inside my head. We were well on our way to having the best revenue day since my purchase of 2nd Chance.

  “Hello there,” I said as the bell rang again without even looking up.

  “Rose!” Mattie shouted, and I turned towards her. She was glancing around, taking in the people waiting for tables, and giving me a thumbs up. “It smells amazing in here.”

  “Yeah it does,” Simon said. He’d walked in without me even noticing, and Jane was just behind him. Seeing my friends on my big night made everything better.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” I told them. My hands were shaking, so I handed them the specialty menus I’d had printed up in an effort to hide my nerves. There were just so many people, and the food was going so fast. Az had pulled in his brother to help him make even more meatballs and another huge pot of sauce.

  I’d have been helping in the kitchen, but I was spending so much time clearing tables, seating people, and refilling drinks I hadn’t been able to do more than ask Az what he needed, try to grab things from the fridge and bring them back. If we’d had a full menu instead of the choice between vegetarian and spaghetti with meatballs, we’d have been in trouble.

  “I’ll be back,” I said, running to clear the table in the corner. It was near the restrooms and a side door to the kitchen, and pretty much the worst table in the house, but I was going to seat my friends early. I’d feel less bad about it if I gave them the worst table.

  “You’re doing great,” Simon said, sliding his arm around my shoulders and giving me a sideways hug. Jane and Mattie noticed. As did Zee with her razor-sharp eyes and…once I thought about it…half the town.

  Even still, I let the heat of him sink into me and borrowed the confidence in his voice. I needed those things and I reminded myself that I was going to own my second chance. I led them to the table, hoping that I’d be able to take a break with them.

  It didn’t happen. We were flooded with people. Tara was late. Of course, she was, but it irritated Zee who’d finished eating and then scowled at the people waiting for food and drinks. Zee got up to deliver plates, cursing the whole time, and then chewed out Tara when she got back.

  “Zee,” I said, “You’re making it worse.”

  Given that Tara was near tears, I told her, “It’s all right. Go take a deep breath. It’s just spaghetti.”

  “It’s your big night,” Tara said as she sniffed. She wiped her face with shaking hands. “I just…things have been…I’m sorry…”

  “Maybe you could take out Daisy for me?” I asked to give her time to gather up her emotions. “It’s been too long. And then, maybe crate her in the back? I think it’s a bit too busy in here for her.”

  Daisy was fine, but I needed Tara to be capable of working.

  I took the next round of plates out and when I got back, Tara was pale but steady. Zee had kept serving, and the rhythm of our normal days was coming back even though everything was different for Spaghetti night. It was impossible to tell if Zee were having fun chatting with everyone or if she were furious about working, but she’d gotten up of her own volition and I was willing to take her help.

  “This,” Mattie said when I stopped by her friends’ table, “is a raving success.”

  “Which meatballs do you like better?”

  Each plate was served with four meatballs with 2 that had red toothpicks and 2 that had blue toothpicks.

  “Red,” Mattie said as Jane said, “Blue.”

  The three women tu
rned to Simon who said, “Rose’s are the red ones, and they’re amazing.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question,” I said laughing.

  He grinned and shrugged and said, “We’ll see what the people say.”

  I gasped and then turned to the others, “He prefers Jenny’s.”

  “He’s a man who doesn’t like change,” Jane said. “Never did. Pancakes on Mondays. Scrambled eggs on Tuesdays.”

  “Shut it,” Simon said mildly to Jane who was laughing too hard to continue.

  “I prefer eggs over medium on a bagel on Tuesdays,” I said. “Clearly there is something wrong with him. Scrambled eggs are all wrong for Tuesdays.”

  “Clearly,” Mattie said, “Someone else is going to snatch up Rose and her food-making-ways while Simon dillydallies and struggles over the better meatballs.”

  Simon tangled his fingers with mine and said, “We’ll see.”

  “I am not something to be snatched,” I told Mattie virtuously. “Though I am, of course, a prize beyond measure. Back to spaghetti,” I said, winking and teasing so naturally I almost forgot we’d only been friends for a few weeks.

  I moved back to refill glasses and then stopped in my tracks. The first table had the jerk who’d nearly run me and Daisy down. I thought for a moment about kicking him out of my restaurant and then decided not to. Instead, I walked over and said, “Pepsi?”

  He looked up and nodded but his gaze wasn’t focusing on me. His eyes slowly blinked and then I noticed the sweat on his face. Was he high? Or sick?

  “Are you all right?”

  His head bopped towards me and then he fell out of the booth and onto the floor.

  “Kyle!” The girl across from him shouted and threw herself down on the floor next to him. The buzz of happy noise in the restaurant faded as people heard the girl calling his name.

  “Jane!” I shouted. “Jane!”

  I turned to get the doctor, but she was already running across the restaurant.

  “What happened?” Simon asked.

  “I…I don’t know,” I replied. “He was acting funny. I asked him if he was ok, and he just fell…”

  “Call for the ambulance, Sy,” Jane said. “Quick.”

  “Is it food poisoning?” a customer asked, sounding panicked.

  That thought struck me cold, and I shook my head frantically looking over at the customer’s doubtful face. Goodness no. We were careful. We kept all the food safety laws.

  Zee said, “Of course, it isn’t you fool. There’d be more than one person sick. He probably overdosed. Like we don’t know he’s a drug addict.”

  “He didn’t,” the girl on the ground next to him said. She sniffed and wiped her tears away and then whimpered, “Kyle…he wouldn’t.”

  Zee scoffed down at the girl and her snide voice said, “Kyle Johansson is trouble. I’ve seen him high more than once.”

  “He said he stopped,” the girl said. She wiped her tears away and added again, “He said he stopped.”

  “What does he use?” Jane demanded glancing at the girl from where she was working on the kid, “Tell me.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t do that stuff.” The girl was openly crying now, tears rolling down her face. She wasn’t a loud crier—more of a little sniffle here and there with a stream of tears.

  “You know what he uses, Morgan,” Simon said and then ordered, “Tell us the truth.”

  “He uses pot,” Tara said. I looked over not even realizing she had been there. “Sometimes some ecstasy. Whatever is easy to get. Oxy a few times. If he could steal it from someone.”

  “He doesn’t do it anymore,” Morgan shouted wiping her tears away. “He wouldn’t. I don’t like it. He wouldn’t. He promised.”

  The ‘wouldn’t’ was a cracked plea, and I was pretty sure that the poor kid didn’t believe herself. I certainly didn’t and if the expression on Jane’s face was any indication, she didn’t believe it either.

  Simon moved people back and we stopped serving food until Kyle was moved out of the restaurant. Tara burst into tears and ran towards the office with Zee following. The look on her face was concerned and I was surprised to see the real affection behind the usual anger, and the only thing coming out of her mouth was soft little tut-tuts.

  I looked to Az for an explanation who said under his breath,“Tara and Kyle have dated off and on since kindergarten.”

  “Oh man.” I’d had no idea that guy was Tara’s ex. What a jerk to come to this restaurant with someone else.

  “Morgan was her friend,” Az muttered. “Supposedly.”

  “Do we just keep…serving?”

  “We can’t do anything about Kyle,” Az said. “Zee is right. That kid was bad news. And this was an overdose.”

  “Turn the music up a bit,” Mattie said. She grabbed a plate and started serving, laughing off bringing the food to the wrong places but Az coached her as he handed her plates, and we took up a new rhythm. I refilled drinks and handed out cookies and did whatever I could to enliven the place. With the shock fading, some of the fun returned, subdued though it was.

  Chapter 5

  “What even happened?” I asked at the end of the night. The rest of the evening had been subdued, but I think that all of us who’d been there when Kyle had collapsed were worried about his chances. Jane’s face had been tight with worry given that she’d been a doctor, I took that pretty seriously. That kid…that stupid, moronic kid might be dying.

  We kept moving and serving because what else were we supposed to do? The restaurant stayed busy and after the round of customers who’d witnessed what had happened left, 2nd Chance upped in energy. It wasn’t as cheery because rumors were flying and Tara disappeared to cry in the back and Az and his brother, Eddie, spent as much time talking to her as shouting, “Order up.”

  “This was lovely fun,” Paige from the little boutique nearby said. She squeezed my shoulder and slid out the door. “I’m sorry to hear about the boy. You did what you could, sugar.”

  “Everyone is so nice,” I told my crew as Paige left. We’d stopped seating a while ago and Az had used the time to clean the kitchen, so we were able to leave as soon as the dessert cabinet and tables are wiped down and the floor was mopped.

  Tara nodded and sniffed and Az wrapped an arm around her yet again.

  “There, there lamb,” he said. “It’ll be all right. You want some company? Eddie and I have a nice guest bedroom. No need to be alone.”

  “He’s going to die,” Tara said, the tears starting again. “He’s going to die and we were so angry at each other. I’ll never speak to him again, and I didn’t get to tell him all he needed to know.”

  “There, there,” Az crooned again. He squeezed her against him and said, “It’s in God’s hands kitten. Don’t worry. Those are good hands to be in.”

  Tara sniffled and then wailed a bit before she tucked her head into Az’s shoulder.

  Zee, however, snorted and said, “This isn’t God. This is what comes from poor parenting.”

  “Oh Zee,” I protested, but she carried on without a pause.

  “Poor parenting, a lack of a moral compass, and entitled children who have never been taught to respect their elders.”

  Az ignored Zee but Mattie looked the woman over and asked, “How does lack of respect for you end up with a kid overdosing on drugs?”

  Zapphirah put a hand to her chest as if she’d been personally attacked and then said, “A lack of social consciousness…”

  “Oh Zee,” I said again.

  Her gaze shot to me with full daggers out, “Thank you so much for your help tonight. You too Mattie. And your brother Az, I’ll figure out payment and…”

  “No money,” Mattie interjected. “Wine. And cake and your hot tub. Please.”

  I nodded instantly that was an excellent deal since I knew she’d share.

  Az just nodded and jerked his head towards the back for Eddie.

  “Enjoy your day off tomorrow,” I told the others an
d gave Tara a quick hug, “Don’t give up hope, Tara. Medicine can do amazing things.”

  She sniffed and gave me a watery smile and darted out the door. A loud sob could be heard, but she was gone in a few steps, and finally, the sound of crying faded. Zee sniffed and followed after. She paused and turned back as she said, “Your meatballs were good, girl. I haven’t had tips this good in a long time. Given the look of you, I’d have expected Jenny’s Diner to fail by now.”

  “Ouch,” Az said for me. He took his share of the tips and nodded to everyone fading into the darkness.

  “Well,” I said because I didn’t see the point in responding to Zee’s venom. “Have a good night.”

  I’d walked to 2nd Chance and my feet were aching. Mattie glanced around and then walked to the wine cabinet and dug through. She put one bottle in her bag, glanced at me and went back for a second.

  I boxed the last of the chocolate cake for us as Mattie’s phone buzzed.

  “Jane is coming. She says to get her cake too. And leftovers. And bread.”

  I yawned, considered, and yawned again.

  “I never want spaghetti again,” I told Mattie as we walked out the door. I whistled for Daisy, remembered that I’d had her crated, and ran back for her.

  “Did you tally the votes? Because I think people would come back for something like this. You should do it every Sunday night.”

  “Themed nights?”

  “Yes. Themed nights. Limited menu. Free drinks. Make it a tradition and see if you can’t get people to come regularly.”

  By the time we’d reached the house, the adrenaline of the evening had faded and my feet were pulsating with pain. I put on my swimsuit and sank into the hot tub with a sigh.

  “My feet hurt so bad,” I told Mattie. She nodded and handed me wine. She’d beat me to the swimsuit and hot tub, but I’d run a brush over Daisy, fed her, and put her dog bed next to the window, so she could see us and stay in the warmth.

  “I’d say I don’t know why you want to have a diner given my current pain,” Mattie said as she rubbed her feet, “But I suppose I’m on my feet all day too.”