After I helped Greta Von Schmitt and her friend Cheryl DeWitt find their seats, I turned to see Ms Vaughn and Al whispering back and forth with less-than-impressed looks on their faces.
I walked over to them. ‘How can you be complaining already?’
Al’s face brightened, and he flicked a hand in George’s direction. ‘Did he bathe in cologne today?’
‘Follow me. You guys are over here on my side of the room.’ I had already seen Al’s and Willa’s names on the table and told Ava which side was mine. I pulled out the chair for Willa – her lemons already placed next to her water glass – as Al whispered into my ear, ‘I have something for you. Don’t let me forget when we leave.’
I shook my head. ‘Whatever it is, you know I can’t accept it.’
Batting the words away with a wave of his hand, he sat down. I knew exactly what he was giving me. He was early – Halloween wasn’t for a few more weeks. Every holiday, Al would pass a card to me when no one was looking. I would always pretend I couldn’t possibly accept it – because we weren’t supposed to accept any kind of gifts or tips from the residents – even though I appreciated it so much. Every card, without fail, had two crisp hundred-dollar bills in it.
It didn’t matter the holiday. One Memorial Day I took his hand and tried to push the card back to him.
‘It’s too much,’ I had said. ‘I really can’t accept it.’
‘Bullshit, you’re underpaid and I can’t take it with me when I go.’ He pushed the card back at me, slipping it into my apron. ‘You’re a good kid, and you put up with my shit. I’d say you’ve earned it.’
I still pretend I can’t accept it, because I shouldn’t, but I don’t argue as much anymore.
‘Ms Vaughn,’ I said, pouring water into their goblets. ‘Are you a Libra or a Scorpio?’ I knew Al’s birthday was in March.
‘Scorpio,’ she said, putting her napkin in her lap and reaching for one of the lemon slices.
‘She’s the definition of a Scorpio, kid.’
‘Look who’s talking, you old ram,’ I whispered. Willa snickered, and Al gave her a sassy look.
Halfway through the shift, we pulled all the servers in from the other dining rooms to sing ‘Happy Birthday’. I moved back to stand next to Gabe.
‘Can I talk to you after work?’ I whispered.
‘Oh no. Am I in trouble?’ He raised his eyebrows at me in a way I would have considered flirtatious if we hadn’t already had the just-friends talk.
‘The most.’ Okay, maybe I was the one being flirty.
He smirked as everyone started singing. ‘I love that for me.’
After we sang, the rest of the servers went back to their dining rooms and George played the game where he asked the birthday people to raise their hands. Then ‘Lower your hand if you were born after [date],’ always starting with the current year to a smattering of forced laughter before going on to 1970 and back from there.
Mrs Donnelly was the last hand up, born on October 13, 1929. She then shuffled her little walker over to the cake, made the ceremonial cut and George served.
Meanwhile, Ava and I ducked out to take stock of the lobster and filet. Filets were on the menu every day, but they were made to order. On birthday night, Roni had a general idea of how many needed to be made, so she made just as many filets as lobster tails.
There were three filets and three lobster tails left.
James took a filet, but Sean G. didn’t want anything and left everything else for us. We plated two lobster tails on one plate and wrapped it up, writing Morgan’s name on it. Then we put a lobster tail and a filet on another plate and wrote Luke’s name on it.
Neither of us wanted the last filet, so we decided to give it to Mackenzie because we knew Bryce wasn’t good for the money, and even with two weeks of helping instead of three, it was a better deal for us.
Once the cake was eaten, Ava and I stepped back into the private dining room, waiting for the residents to leave so we could clean up.
We didn’t have to reset the tables because they wouldn’t be set again until the next private party or birthday night.
Al and Willa were the last two at their table, waiting for the table closest to the door to get up and leave so Al could slip me the Halloween card without drawing attention.
‘Did you behave?’ I asked.
Al acted offended for half a second before Willa said, ‘He went off on Reagan to Mary-Sue Humphries.’
