“If it wasn’t for her, the PTA wouldn’t have survived the baked bean scandal.”
“She was also Margot Merriweather-Brown’s inspiration for her generous donation to the mathematics department, which she denies because she never takes credit for herself.”
“But if you want to listen to the rumors the Camilles are pretending they’re not spreading about her since Jake dumped her…”
“Which won’t get you any better roles with the community theater…”
I interrupt them by holding the tablet out of the window for payment.
The older of the two women taps a card to the reader with a very clearly dangerous look slid in the direction of her male companion.
And I continue to adore this town.
More so than even my continued inspiration, I adore my growing role in it.
“It really shouldn’t be about sides,” the gentleman says. “Good food is good food.”
“Does character matter in this debate?” I inquire.
He grimaces once again.
“Characteralwaysmatters,” the younger of the two women tells me. “Especially when you realize it might not have always been what you thought it was. And we’ll be back.”
“Three secret menu baskets and an extra order of chips,” I call to Bea.
She doesn’t answer, though I’m certain she heard me.
I pretend I don’t notice her dabbing at her eyeballs with the edge of her apron before she ducks to grab the fish from the fridge beneath the prep counter.
Sometimes a person needs to know they’re appreciated.
It’s unfortunate that I’m only now understanding how little Bea realizes she’s appreciated by the entire community.
Not pitied for her situation.
But valued for her contributions and respected for the extra sacrifices she’s made to participate in the community.
And also fucked sideways by this break-up with Jake Camille, who seems to be one of those men who portrays himself one way in public, and an entirely different way in private.
Much like my parents.
There are things in this world that I can fix, and there are things in this world that I cannot.
This falls into thefixcolumn.
And it shall be my next project.
“Don’t forget to offer the chef’s table,” Bea calls to me. “It’s twenty bucks to sit and watch us work for half an hour.”
“Marvelous. Consider it done.”
19
COULD YOU PLEASE KNOCK FIRST?
Bea
We did it.
