Chapter 8
Tonya worked well with identical twins Nicole Dupree and Melinda Shaw, who arrived together at eight-thirty and greeted her as warmly as if she were a long-lost cousin. She had met them for the first time the summer before at St. John’s family reunion. The thirty-five-year-old women had inherited their father’s complexion and height, and their mother’s doll-like features.
Both had graduated college, earning degrees in social work like their hospital-based social worker mother, but after marriage and motherhood they were stay-at-home mothers until their children were school age, and then opted to work in the family-owned restaurant. They told her they left promptly at two in order to arrive home to meet their children’s school buses. Nicole, the mother of two sets of twins, admitted she didn’t miss counseling clients or updating case notes, because now she could spend more time with her children, while Melinda admitted she had always preferred working with her hands, because her first career choice had been to study art.
Melinda adjusted the hairnet covering her short natural hair under a baseball cap before she unlocked the front door. “Tonya, you can work the counter with me, while Nicky will take care of table service.”
“Are you ever filled to capacity?” Tonya asked as she placed a tray of white rice in one of the aluminum pans filled with hot water. Several other trays were filled with red beans, shrimp etouffée, chicken-andouille gumbo, dirty rice, and jambalaya.
“Not too often. Most times our customers fax their takeout orders, and a few will begin calling around ten thirty for an eleven o’clock pickup. Then we have some folks who have a standing order, so once we hear their names we know what they want.”
“What happens when you sell out of a particular item?” Tonya asked.
“We don’t replenish it,” Melinda said. “If there are leftovers, then Daddy will donate them to our church for their soup kitchen. He believes it’s a sin to throw away food.”
Tonya nodded in agreement. She had worked at several New York City restaurants that had joined City Harvest and donated food to organizations dedicated to feeding the hungry rather than throw it away.
As soon as the first customer walked through the door, the work continued nonstop until closing time. There was nothing left to donate, because everything had sold out. Melinda and Nicole tossed their aprons in the laundry bin, kissed their father, and rushed out to make it home before the buses dropped off their children. Tonya cleaned off tables and stacked chairs in a corner, and then swept the floor. By the time she returned to the kitchen, Eustace had filled the dishwasher with dishes, flatware, and pots.
“It’s quitting time for you, young lady,” Eustace announced loudly. “As soon as I clean the stovetop and mop the kitchen, I’m out of here.”
“Do you want me to clean the stove?”
Eustace pointed in the direction of the back. “You’re done for the day, so I’m ordering you to leave.”
Tonya affected a snappy, “Yes, sir, boss!” Both were laughing when she took off her apron. “I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early.”
Eustace wiped his shaved head with a paper napkin. “Not too early. Remember, I’ll be here around six.”
“And I’ll see you at six, because I have to put up the bread dough for the baguettes.”
“Thank you for reminding me that I have to call the bread man and cancel tomorrow’s delivery.”
She left Chez Toussaints eight hours after she had walked in, feeling more alive than she had in months. Working in the kitchen alongside Eustace had revived her passion for learning to prepare dishes that were not in her repertoire. She managed to sample a spoonful of each dish and concluded red beans and rice with grilled chaurice—a Creole hot sausage—was one of her favorites. Tonya knew if she did not carefully monitor what she ate, she would regain the weight she had lost.
When she had gone for her annual health checkup, the results of her tests indicated she wasn’t overweight, but over the years the pounds had begun to creep up, and there were times when she felt winded climbing subway stairs, especially in the winter when wearing a heavy coat. But once she began shedding the pounds, she had a lot more energy.
Tonya left the restaurant and drove in the direction of the Lower French Quarter, where she planned to buy fresh produce. Hannah had stocked the guesthouse with meat, fish, and staples, but Tonya had made it a practice to eat several servings of fruit and vegetables every day. She managed to find parking and walked to the market with its graceful arcades that spanned six blocks.
Within seconds she felt as if she had been transported back in time to when residents went down to the river, where fishermen, farmers, and artisans called out to customers to purchase their products. She passed trinket stands and shopkeepers selling pralines, muffulettas, and fresh herbs. By the time she left, her tote and several shopping bags were bulging with her purchases.
She was five minutes into the return drive to the Garden District when her cell phone rang and Gage’s name and number appeared on the dashboard screen. Tapping a button on the steering wheel, she activated the Bluetooth feature. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go out with you tonight because I have to get up early and bake bread,” she said teasingly.
A deep chuckle came through the speaker.
“I’m not calling to take you out tonight, because both of us have to get up early. But I do need to see you.”
Tonya stopped for a red light at Jackson Square. Her pulse quickened. The first thought that came to mind was something had happened with Eustace. “Is Eustace okay?”
“He’s fine.”
She exhaled an inaudible breath of relief. “When do you want to see me?”
“Now. That is if you’re not busy.”
“Right now I’m not home. Can you give me about fifteen minutes to get back to the Garden District?”
“I’m already here. I’m parked on the street outside the house.”
