Page 10 of Single Dad's Christmas Cookie

I ducked behind the counter and followed her through a curtained off door. She handed the papers to a woman sitting behind a desk in a cramped little office. She looked mean. And she probably thought I was too fat. In my mind, we were both being overly judgmental toward each other, which was fine. Wedidn’t have to like each other. She just had to like me enough to want to hire me for the next two to three weeks’ worth of work.

She quietly read over my resume, occasionally nodding.

“You grew up in the South?” she asked.

“Atlanta,” I confirmed.

“Do you know how to make biscuits?”

“Buttermilk biscuits? I sure do.” My accent twanged out as if I were trying to impress her with my authentic Southern-ness.

“Carol!” somebody yelled from the front of the cafe. It didn’t sound like the girl who had brought me back here. It sounded like a man’s voice.

“I’ll be right back. Hold on.”

I sat primly with my purse perched in my lap as I waited for Carol to return. I tried to keep my focus straight ahead and not look like I was eagerly checking out her office. But after a few minutes, I did begin looking around. After all, she had left me alone. I didn’t touch anything, and I didn’t read things I shouldn’t have been reading. But I did cast my gaze about in idle curiosity. Another ten minutes went by, and I was beginning to wonder if I should go look for Carol when the phone in the office began ringing.

I twisted around to see if I could see anybody through the office door. I got up and peeked out into the hallway that was empty. It was as if everyone in the cafe had completely vanished. By the time I returned back to the office, the phone had stopped ringing. At least I didn’t need to worry about that anymore. I sat and arranged myself so that it looked as if I hadn’t budged waiting for Carol’s return when the phone started ringing again.

It just kept ringing.

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” I reached across the desk. “Hi, can I help you? Um, Carol’s Cookie Catering,” I said as I quickly read the top line of a notepad that matched the front entrance to the cafe. I hoped I had the right company name.

A deep voice said, “I’m hoping you can help me. I’m in need of a cook.”

“Do you want to schedule catering?” I asked.

“No. I need a cook.”

“So you’re calling here to hire a cook,” I repeated back to him.

“Yes, but I only need a cook temporarily. Do you have any extra cooks in your catering business that I could hire?”

“You don’t want to hire catering, but you want to hire a cook?” I confirmed.

“Yes. Am I not being clear here?”

“You’re being perfectly clear,” I said. “However, I don’t know if that’s something they do here. You know, hire temp cooks out. Why don’t you give me your information and I’ll have somebody follow up with you?” I reached for the pad and pulled a pen out of a branded mug full of other pens. I noticed those also had the company’s name emblazoned across them.

“Send somebody over to cook dinner tonight at seven o’clock. Here’s the address.”

I quickly scribbled down the address.

“I’ll pay for the test run, and if everything works out, I’ll hire them.” He sounded very frustrated with me.

“Do you want dinner to be served at seven, or do you want them to show up at seven to begin preparing dinner?” I blurted out quickly before he had a chance to hang up on me.

“Serve dinner at seven.”

“Great. I’ll have somebody there by five thirty.” I hung up the phone and looked around. If this had been a test, I thought I had done pretty well. Only, there still wasn’t anyone around.

Like some kind of trained puppy, I sat and waited for Carol again.

I flipped the sheet of note paper back and forth as I waited. When I realized no one was coming back and no one from Carol’s Cookie Catering had heard the conversation I had, I shoved the page with the address into my pocket and walked out of the office and out of the cafe.

6

BRYAN

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