by C.J Duggan
***
"What is this?" A long, immaculately manicured fingernail pointed to their plate.
I tilted my head and leaned down a little to have a closer inspection.
"Uh ? a piece of capsicum?"
"And what was it that I specifically asked not to be served?" She gave me a hard stare, as I fumbled through the backlog of dockets in my booklet.
"Oh, uh ?" There it was, clear as day, scrawled in block letters.
NO CAPSICUM! I fought not to cringe.
"I'm sorry, did you want me to change it for you?"
The lady rolled her eyes at her friends.
"No, I think you have done quite enough." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. I skulked away. Wow, it was amazing how a rather upbeat day can be torn down within a blink of an eye.
Ellie met me at the cutlery drawer.
"Don't worry, Tess, I have something that will make you forget all about Cruella de Vil over there."
"Capsicum spray?" I asked in hope.
Ellie frowned, confused momentarily, but she shook out of it and plastered on a big grin as she handed me a docket.
"Take care of this, would ya, babe?"
She sauntered off to wait on the next table. In my hand sat a crinkled piece of paper. A dinner order for the Onslow Boys decorated with love hearts. It was then I realised the distant pulse of the jukebox through the wall; it was nothing compared to the beat of my heart.
There was a lull in dinner service, which had me anxiously awaiting the sound of the bell to tell me the order was up. I paced within earshot; twenty minutes went by before I heard that magical ding. I slid sideways as I overshot the kitchen door in my haste. Elegance and grace, as always.
I was there before Rosanna spiked the order as done. She wiped the perspiration from her brow and curved the other at me.
"I see the Onslow Boys have made quite an impression on you girls."
I tried not to smile; even Rosanna was calling them the Onslow Boys. I plastered on my best poker face, attempting to appear cool and casual even though I had never been so eager to deliver two Chicken Parmagianas in my life.
"Just be careful, hon," Rosanna said.
"Oh, are the plates hot?" I flinched back just before my hands made contact.
Rosanna laughed. "No, but hot boys can burn you just as easily."
Oh no! Love advice from Rosanna. Now was not the time for a deep and meaningful; in fact, with Rosanna, never would be the time. To avoid the next clich?, I quickly grabbed the plates and legged it. I was about two seconds into my commute when I realised maybe Rosanna's words did have a double meaning; the plates were bloody hot! I bit my lip as I quickstepped through the bar, scurrying as fast as I could to the poolroom. I breathed deeply and grimaced at the pain, and when I entered the poolroom, I managed to voice the fact.
"Ahh-eee-aaah," I said, "hot stuff coming through."
I dumped the plates on the bar, shaking and blowing on my now free hands.
Oh God, did I really just announce that to the room?
"McGEE!" Sean shouted as he looked up from his pool shot that he'd just pocketed with ease. He straightened and swaggered towards me, brushing passed me as he reached for his beer on the bar. He saluted 'cheers' towards me before taking a sip.
"Murphy!" I tipped my head.
"Ah, so you've done your research? You know my name."
"I think everyone knows your name."
"Really? Why?" he mused.
I gave him an incredulous look. "'Cos of footy, of course; star ruck-man, why else?"
Stan slapped Sean on the back as he took his seat to get stuck into his meal.
"It's that, or the fact that he's such a ladies' man," Stan teased.
Sean cast Stan a hard look as he watched his friend eat. "Don't choke on that, will you?"
My eyes locked with Toby's who was across the bar, about to swig on his own beer. He was smiling at his mates' banter, and his eyes never left me as he took a long, deep drink. My burning hands were long forgotten as I felt other areas of my flesh burn up, with those eyes on me. Toby swallowed his beer and opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off by two hands covering his eyes from behind.
"Guess who?"
He smiled broadly and grabbed at the hands.
"Vanessa?"
It was then that Angela Vickers swung around to his side, hitting him with her clutch purse.
"Real funny, and who is this Vanessa, huh?" She mocked anger, but it was quickly defused as she melted with Toby's blinding, beautiful smile. She closed the distance between them, claiming his lips passionately as if it were a long-lost reunion.
Ringer groaned. "Get a room you two!"
I quickly looked away. The thought of her running her hands through his hair, pressed up against him in an embrace was just too much to bear.
I made a quick exit back to the kitchen to grab the two remaining plates that had mercifully cooled to the touch by now. I had hoped to spot Ellie en route, in the hopes that maybe she'd switch with me, but she was nowhere to be seen. At the risk of the food getting cold, I had no choice but to grin and bear it.
"Tess, can you do a glass run while you deliver those?" called Chris from the restaurant side of the bar.
Oh great, what timing. A glass run when I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I set the meals down with no witty banter from Sean; he was too busy talking to Angela who had decided to perch herself on Toby's lap.
I slowly, methodically made my way around the edge of the poolroom, picking up empty beer glasses from the windowsills and barrels. I spotted an empty glass near Toby and Angela.
Oh great.
I shyly excused myself as I leant passed them to grab the glass. Angela, who seemed to not even be aware of my existence until then looked me over and gave me a cool, calculating assessment. She didn't like what she saw.
"Hey, bar-keep!" she shouted with a smirk.
"Her name's Tess, Ang," said Stan. For that I was totally in love with him and wanted to tell him thanks, but I didn't, as Angela had me in her sights. As she stared at me, all I could think of was please don't call me Tic Tac, please don't call me that.
I could see the nickname register in her cold eyes. She smiled slowly.
"Tess, would you be able to get me a glass of your house white?"
I was at first surprised by the simple question, and then I realised I would have to give her my standard answer.
"Oh ? um, sorry, I'm not allowed to serve alcohol, I'm only seventeen." I blanched. Her brows rose in fake surprise. She damn well knew I couldn't serve her alcohol. She just laughed and waved me off as if to run along.
"Oh, never mind. Chriiiiissssss," she shouted down the bar.
Her attempt to make me feel two feet tall had worked. I became embarrassed and flustered. I went to add the last glass to my stack, but it slipped through my fingers and fell. Everything happened in slow motion until it hit the floor and shattered in a loud, almighty smash.
"Taxi!" several people called out and laughed. All eyes were on me.
The entire stack wobbled in my arms but Sean jumped up and steadied them for me.
"Whoa, careful!"
I pressed my free hand to my forehead as I surveyed the damage. After carefully placing the glasses back on the bar, I bent quickly to pick up the shards, averting my eyes from all their gazes. An extra pair of hands appeared in front of me and carefully picked up some of the larger pieces. Silently, Toby had crouched beside me and my heart swelled at his kindness. His hand then grabbed my wrist as I went to lift a smaller piece.
"Don't cut yourself."
I froze, suddenly aware of him touching me, and then all too quickly he removed his hand from my skin and I looked away.
"I'll get a dustpan," I said under my breath. I also wanted to get away from them, from Angela, who I could hear laughing behind me. I was so determined to get away from the shrill sound that I nearly collided straight into Chris, who was holding a broom and dustpan.
"Thanks." I reached to take it from him, but he moved them from my reach.
"No, it's okay, I'll take care of it."
"No, it's fine, I can-"
"Why don't you go and take over from Amy for a bit?"
I did a double take. In other words: you have made enough of a mess, Tess, get back to the kitchen where you belong. It felt like a physical blow.
I nodded and pushed passed him. Ellie gave me a smile and a little wave from across the restaurant but I just made my way to the kitchen.
When I informed Amy I was there to take over for her, she hooted joyously and ripped off her apron with lightning speed.
With a "See ya later, losers," she pushed open the door and was gone.
"What a little shit she is," Rosanna said.
I surveyed the sink area and my new work zone. It appeared that Amy had made more mess in her attempt to clean. There was water all over the floor, and the dishes still had remnants of half-chewed food and sauces on them. I had visions of her furiously dunking them in the putrid water, fantasising it was my head as she slammed them onto the dish rack in a rage. I couldn't blame her. I was about to do the same; instead, I would be imagining someone else. I would be dunking Angela.