Chapter 7 #3
“I’m good,” I said, shifting again. A melodic Liar, liar, pants on fire twirled in a loop in my mind, and I grimaced.
“How about you take a break, and I’ll get you something to eat?”
I lifted a fork, knife, and spoon out of the three plastic dispensers Levi had set them in. They were still warm from the dishwasher. “I just have a couple more to go.”
Her hand came to rest on top of my right wrist. “I can finish that. You need a break. You look pale, honey. Take a seat.”
It wasn’t a request, and if I refused, I’d come off as difficult, so I pushed a grateful smile onto my lips and moved around to the other side of the counter and took a seat, which felt wonderful for my aching feet, but my ribs continued to protest.
So, I leaned my elbows onto the counter and waited for Wanda to ask for my order.
“What can I have Gus make you, Maddy?”
I thought about my twenty-eight dollars and mentally rolled through the orders I’d written up that day. The cheapest thing on the menu was the chicken noodle soup. It was $4.49 a bowl—which felt steep, especially because I planned to give Levi and Gus a cut of my tips.
If I gave them each six bucks, that’d leave me with $11.50 for several hours of work. “I’ll take a cup of the soup, please.” A cup of soup was only $2.39.
Wanda looked at me like I had to be kidding. “Meals are on the house, hon,” she said softly, like she’d seen my brain calculate the math.
Heat rose to my cheeks. I felt like a charity case, and I didn’t want to. “Make it a bowl then,” I said, grinning like I couldn’t wait for a bowl of soup.
Wanda huffed out a chuckle, but she moved over to where the soup urn was, ladled me out a bowl of the soup, carried it over with a package of crackers, and set it down.
“Thank you,” I said, barely able to hold back from making a display of tucking into the soup. I was famished!
“If you want more than that, and I mean it, you can have anything on the menu, Maddy, then just tell Gus and he’ll prep it for you, okay?”
I smiled at her, beyond grateful for her kindness. I decided to eat the soup and see how hungry I was afterward. “Thank you, Wanda.”
She patted my hand before she headed over to the register to sort through the cashed-out orders and balance the drawer, then she went into the back where Levi was still busting his butt.
He came out a minute later and sat at the counter too, eyeing my soup like he hadn’t had half my meal only five hours earlier.
I offered him a couple of my oyster crackers, and he nibbled on them greedily.
Wanda hadn’t come back out of the kitchen area yet, so I didn’t know if Levi was also getting his meal for free or if he’d have to pay for it.
Taking out my carefully stacked one-dollar bills, I slid six of them to Levi. “Thanks for the busing help.”
He stared at the money on the counter, then back up at me like he didn’t understand.
I pointed to the stack. “Sorry it’s not much, Levi. Tips here are on the small side.”
He shook his head and pushed the money back toward me. “Wanda’s paying me cash,” he said. “I’m good.”
I furrowed my brow. “You guys don’t split tips here?”
“Uh, no. Where’d you work before this?”
I shrugged. “Honestly? No idea.”
He blinked at me, confusion clouding his pale features.
I pointed to my head. “Amnesia.”
From the kitchen came the smell of cooking beef, and Levi’s attention seemed split between me and the scent of what was probably a hamburger.
I hoped it was his dinner.
“For real, you’ve got amnesia?” he asked.
“Yep. For real. My past, including my name, is a total blank. I’m calling myself Maddy because I like the way it sounds.”
There was a sad sort of twinkle in Levi’s eyes. And for a moment, his expression appeared almost…envious. “How’d you end up here then?”
I shrugged. “No idea. I woke up in the hospital a couple of weeks ago with no idea who I was, where I was, or how I got there. They were hoping my memory would’ve returned by now, but it hasn’t.”
Levi pointed to my casted arm. “Maybe you were in a car accident?”
I knew that was unlikely the case, but I nodded all the same. “Yeah, maybe.”
The smell from the kitchen continued to intensify and started to smell less liked cooked beef and more like charred beef.
I didn’t say anything, but Levi must’ve noticed it too, because his attention switched over to the window at the top of the back counter, where we could both just make out the back of Gus’s head while he worked the griddle.
I pointed to the window. “Did you order something to eat?”
Levi frowned. “Yeah. A burger.”
“You like it hockey puck–style, huh?”
“What?”
“You know, like a hockey puck. Well, well, welllll done.”
To my surprise, Levi’s face crumpled. He simply looked sad.
“Order up!” Gus barked from the window as he slid a plate under the hot lamp.
Levi simply looked toward the window, eyeing the plate like he was afraid it might bite him.
I got up, grimacing a bit, walked around the counter, and took down the plate, then lifted the top bun to stare down at a completely inedible hunk of charred meat.
Coloring the plate was only a thin slice of lettuce.
No onion. Tomato. Pickle. Or fries. Every burger I’d served tonight had had those on the plate. Along with a side of slaw.
Something angry roiled inside me. It took only one look toward Levi to know that he didn’t like his burgers anywhere near this burnt offering, and he’d no doubt been hoping for fries.
The kid had worked his ass off for the past five hours.
I knew that Wanda had promised him only thirty bucks—fifteen to clean up the lunch dishes and fifteen more to clean up dinner—less even than minimum wage.
And, yeah, I wasn’t on her payroll at all, but I was getting room and board plus tips out of the deal.
Turning back to the window, I said, “Um, Gus?”
The cook was busy scraping the griddle, shoving shards of blackened meat into the well that collected the residue from everything fried on top of the griddle.
“Yeah?” He had his back to me, and I waited for him to look at me over his shoulder. “What’s up?”
I held up the plate with Levi’s burnt burger, smiling at him for all I was worth. “Wanda said she’d comp my meal, and, after smelling your cooking all night, I’m starving! Could I have one of these?”
He grinned. “Sure. How you want it?”
I pointed down to the bun, obscuring the lump of inedible meat beneath it. “How’s this one cooked?”
Gus’s grin faltered just a hair. “Well done.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I like mine medium-rare. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” he said, turning back to his griddle.
“Any chance I could get an extra-big portion of fries with that?”
He chuckled but didn’t turn around. “Yeah, I got at least one more batch of frozen fries in the bag and I haven’t shut down the fryer yet. Gimme three minutes or so.”
“Thank you, Gus,” I purred.
Then I turned back to Levi and, without blinking, I dumped the ruined burger into the trash before tucking the plate into the dirty dish bin.
Levi looked crestfallen, and then, astonishingly, he looked resigned. He got up and began to shuffle away when I stopped him.
“Where’re you going?”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder at me, then at the hallway to the dish room, then back at me. “Uh, back to work?”
“Like hell you are,” I said, pointing with my good hand to the stool he’d just gotten up from. “Sit.”
He studied me while he took his seat again, looking thoroughly confused, and maybe even a little scared.
I headed over to the soda fountain and got a glass, filled it with just a little ice, and poured him a large Coke.
Then I grabbed a to-go cup—one of the extra larges—and copied the ratio of Coke to ice in that container as well.
Moving back over to Levi, I set the large Coke in front of him and said, very softly, “Sit tight. Your dinner’s almost up.”
Understanding blossomed in his expression, and his gaze darted between me and the window, where the smell of a properly cooked burger wafted out to us.
While Gus was occupied at the griddle, I moved to the station where the other to-go containers were stacked and took out one that was large enough for Levi’s meal, set it to the side next to a big white bag, into which I threw a bunch of ketchup and mustard packets, adding a set of plastic utensils.
I then busied myself by cashing out the last of our customers, motioned to Levi to clean off their table, and just as he was taking the last bus tub into the back, Gus hollered, “Order up, Maddy!”
Heading back to the window, I placed five one-dollar bills on the metal shelf. “Gus, I just want to say thank you for taking care of me tonight. I know I’m new, and there were one or two rough orders on your wheel, so I really appreciate your patience while I get used to the menu.”
The man stared at the bills, then back at me, then back at the bills, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Hon, you don’t have to pay me to cook. Wanda takes care of me.”
“I know,” I said, shoving the money forward. “I don’t think I’ll be able to afford this every time I work, but tonight, Gus, I just want you to know that I appreciate you, okay?”
He shook his head and put his hand over the money, moving it back toward me. “I’m not gonna take your tips. You worked your butt off. You keep it. I’m glad to help you out. And you’ll get better. Hell, you’re already the best new waitress Wanda’s ever hired.”
I took back the bills, offering him my most grateful smile. “You’re a kind, kind man, Gus. God’s probably thinking He’s lucky He created you. Thank you.”
He smiled again, but it was that same a-little-bit-off smile that he’d worn when I asked him how Levi’s burger had been cooked. I knew it was guilt and hoped it bothered him for the rest of the night.
Moving out of his view, I slid the burger and fries into the to-go container, then tucked that into the bag, folded over the top of the bag several times, and left it next to the register.
When Levi walked back out after putting the last load of dishes through the dishwasher, I pointed to the bag and held a finger to my lips. “Gus, this burger is amazing!” I called, knowing I was out of his view.