Pizza Chef #2
“Dad!” Maria protested. “I’m cooking—you know that’s the thing I always wanted to do. And I’m here with you and Grandma. What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, the way things are right now, I know you’re not happy,” Dad said. “I think a while out West will help you to get a fresh perspective.”
Maria folded her arms. “I hardly think staying with Grandma Austin and a bunch of other relatives I don’t even know will give me a positive perspective on anything.”
“Well, I’m not trying to make you go,” Dad said. “You’re an adult. It’s your decision. But I thought I’d give my two cents.”
Something inside Maria’s head nagged at her. It’s not for that long, Maria. You could take a few weeks, learn about Mom, and see if those relatives are as awful as you’ve always thought. You could be the family peacemaker.
Shaking her head, Maria stuffed the nagging thoughts down. “Thanks, Dad.” She sank back into the couch. “I do appreciate it. I don’t know. It’s late, and I’m tired. And it’s true I don’t like the pizza job. But maybe it’ll get better. I’m not ready to run away to the West just yet.”
Dad chuckled. “Well, I guess it’ll be better if I don’t keep you up all night, too. I’m gonna turn in. Goodnight, Princess.”
“Goodnight.”
§
The Main Street Kitchen, Maria decided the next day, was perpetually understaffed.
She worked a shift with Rhonda and another teenage kid, this one a languid girl named Brittany.
Brittany mostly worked the front counter and wasn’t any more experienced with making pizzas than Maria was.
And Maria wasn’t great. She didn’t have any of the recipes memorized, the dough-making covered her in flour and stickiness, and she dropped another scalding pizza on the floor (narrowly missing hitting her on the head).
Those were things that should get better with time and practice.
But she couldn’t get used to the attitude of the other workers, the sloppiness of the way things were run, and the lack of any kind of reasonable help.
To Maria’s relief, especially since she had started early, today she didn’t get kept over. Heather, the girl after her, arrived only a few minutes late. Still floury and spattered with sauce (even on her glasses), Maria started for home.
Halfway home, Maria’s gas tank light came on. Good thing it was the middle of the day—she never felt good getting gas by herself at night. She pulled into a Speedway.
The car at the pump next to hers looked familiar. That was the kind of car Seth drove. Funny how little things reminded her of him. It was frustrating. She didn’t want to think about Seth.
She went in to pay for her gas. A long line of people snaked around the gas station from the counter—they must be understaffed too. Maybe Maria should have paid at the pump, but she didn’t feel safe using her debit card at random gas pumps.
“Hi, Maria,” a familiar voice said behind her. Maria stiffened and kept her focus straight ahead.
“Maria?” Seth’s voice said again. There was no getting around it. Maria turned.
Seth stood there, all six feet of him. It wasn’t so long since Seth’s wavy dark hair and square jawline gave Maria butterflies in her stomach. Now all she felt at the sight of him was disgust.
“Oh,” she said. “Hi.”
She turned away. Seth couldn’t expect her to talk to him, not after the last time they’d seen each other, when Maria had said she never wanted to see him again.
“How’s it going?” He came around her, unperturbed, as though it was a normal conversation. “I heard the Virginian closed. Where are you working now?”
She didn’t want to say. She and Seth had spent so much time in grad school talking about the jobs they wanted.
Seth wanted to be a head chef, all the way at the top.
Right now he was a sous chef at Greg’s, already a higher position than Maria’s line cook position at the Virginian.
She wouldn’t breathe a word about her new pizza job.
“I found a temporary job,” Maria said, “but I’m waiting to hear from other places.”
It was true—some of the places she applied to still hadn’t gotten back to her. She was beginning to doubt they would ever get back to her, and she’d have to start from scratch and try places farther away like Dad suggested. But Seth didn’t need to know that.
“Where’s the temporary job?” he asked. “Let me guess. Pizza place?” He gestured at her clothes.
Maria looked down at her sauce-spattered, flour-spotted outfit, with the restaurant’s logo on the T-shirt. Of course.
“The Main Street Kitchen,” she said stiffly.
He started laughing. How dare he?
“You didn’t go to culinary school to work at a pizza place. You can’t sink that low! Why don’t you work at Greg’s? I could put in a word for you.”
Work at Greg’s with Seth and his new girlfriend? Maria wouldn’t dignify that with a response.
“We might have an opening for a cook,” Seth continued. “It’s hard to get a job at Greg’s, but the restaurant’s doing so well, we’ll need to hire more people soon. Have you seen the “Eat at Greg’s” billboard campaign around town?”
“I’ve seen it,” Maria said. “No thanks. I’m fine. Have a good day.”
Thank goodness, she had finally reached the counter. Seth had to drop behind, and Maria paid for her gas.
She ducked around him, not letting him catch her eye again, and went out to put gas in her car. While the pump worked she leaned against the car, heedless of her clothes. They were filthy anyway. If she worked at this pizza place any longer, she would have to replace a bunch of her jeans.
Of all the people she didn’t want to run into, Seth was the worst. How could he talk as though nothing had happened?
How dare he invite her to work at his restaurant, presumably in a position under his?
Didn’t he know how much he had hurt her when he broke up with her?
Didn’t he know how embarrassed she was to learn about him dating that other girl, right after the breakup?
Didn’t he know how he had broken her trust?
Men! These modern men! They were all oblivious, untrustworthy, and didn’t understand a thing about women.
Was that Seth coming out the door? Maria didn’t want to talk to him again.
That must really be his car at the pump next to hers.
She stopped the gas pump early and whisked into her car, zooming out of the parking lot.
What was he doing here at this time of day, anyway?
As sous chef, wouldn’t he have a shift that worked through dinnertime? Maybe it was his day off.
Whatever the reason Seth was there, running into him had made Maria’s adrenaline spike. Her heart pounded, and her breathing felt weird. She didn’t want to go home like this and worry Grandma. She’d come home in a bad emotional state too often lately. A walk would do her good.
She came to a park that had a trail winding through the woods. She’d rode her bike there often when she was younger. She didn’t have her bike with her now, but it would be a good place to let off steam. Maria called her grandma, told her she was going on a walk after work, and locked the car.