“The opposite,” said George. “Even though it’s my baby, I want him to feel very much a part of it—like a partnership minus the expenses. His stake in the business is for mentoring and exposure. If I do well, he does well—building a reputation, just like I did with Old Ebbitt. I want him to learn it all—business and numbers too. You’re only as good as the people you hire.”
“True. I haven’t had to hire anyone other than Cassie. And I barely need her.”
“You will soon. Once we open, I’m going to make sure of that.” He grinned through his scruff which was almost a beard, toasting her with his sandwich.
The store door opened and in walked a skinny black teen with a bright yellow chiffon scarf tied around his waist, the ends flowing with his svelte movement. An older white woman accompanied him.
“Hey, there,” May said. “Welcome. What brings you to Ruff Stuff?”
The teen smiled shyly at George, saying nothing. The woman’s greeting, however, was warm and friendly.
“Hi there. I’m Rachel, and this is Wilson my... oh, my. I guess I’m technically your grandmother.” She looked to May and George. “I’m notthatold I swear.”
“I wouldn’t think you were old at all,” said George.
“Thank you. You’re too kind. I have a large family, both professionally and personally. It’s a little confusing even for me. Anyway, we’re here because Wilson has an addition to his household... the four-legged, furry kind.”
“How exciting,” said George. “What’s her name?”
“Madelaine,” Wilson said, drawing the name out and gesturing grandly with his hands before they landed on his hips and he settled into a relaxed, albeit calculated, pose. “Maddy for short.”
“Great name,” said May. “And a fabulous introduction, by the way. Is she purebred, or a mutt?”
“She’s a mix,” Rachel said. “Part-pit, part lab.”
“Nice! She’s going to be big... with a LOT of energy.”
“She already is,” said Wilson, dropping the grandiose and completely breaking character. “DJ—one of my Dads—says she’s like a bull in a china shop.”
George grinned at Wilson. The teen wore his effeminacy proudly, which included what appeared to be a bit of eyeliner. “I’m sure your dads have their hands full with a cutie like you.”
“Me?I’m too much for color TV—that’s what DD says.”
The adults laughed.
“True enough, but we’re here to get some food for Maddy, remember?” Rachel smiled at May. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“I’m May, this is George.”
“Jack—DJ—told us about your shop. He refuses to feed Maddy, and I quote ‘any old crap.’”
“Then I like Jack already,” May said. “And it’s good that Maddy’s a mutt because there’s often less chance for food allergies. Wilson, have you noticed any issues so far with her itching or chewing her feet?”
“No, girl. She’s too busy knocking folks down and chewing up furniture.”
George laughed again.
“OK, then.” May came out from behind the counter and crossed to some shelves containing a variety of wet and dry food brands. “I think I know what we’ll start with.”
“Wilson,” said George. “You’re a natural. I think you’re destined to be a performer someday.”
“Don’t make his head any bigger,” said Rachel. “All he talks about is auditioning forDrag Race.”
“You’ll get there one day. I have no doubt.”
“It’s not my destiny, child...yet,” Wilson said, emulating RuPaul, the popular show host. He lifted a slender forefinger to his lips and gave George a quiet “shh.”
George pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Wilson. “Bring your family back. I’m opening a restaurant in a few weeks next door. Tell them they need to come down and help support another local business.”
