Page 30 of Finding Yesterday

I smirk. “No can do.” I start mopping. “Sorry, Moon Pie.” If he’s going to insist on calling me Chicken Little, then I’m going to call him my version of his nickname that ruffles his feathers.

“Fine, I’m just gonna go with you in here.” Nate approaches the urinal.

I smack him with the broom handle. “Don’t you eventhinkabout that. Are you kidding me?” He keeps approaching the urinal, and I keep smacking him until he backs away.

“Cut it out, Claire, ouch!” Nate throws his hands up and pushes off the broom.

“What is going on in here?” I stop beating Nate to look up. Through strands of fallen hair, I see Pops in the doorway.

Perfect.

Nate just got me fired.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I blurt. “This is just my bonehead brother.”

Pops stalks in, his brows furrowed. He steps around the bucket that’s propping open the door to come inside.

“I’ll get back to work,” I say, keeping my voice steady. I can’t lose this job.

But then instead of approaching me, Pops turns to Nate. Then he looks at me and says, “Your brotherisa bonehead.”

“Hey, now, I was just teasing Claire.” Nate puts his palms up. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“Stay put.” Pops’s voice is sharp as he stares Nate down. “I’m here to take over cleaning, and you’re going to help me, son. Unless you want your daddy to know you were giving Claire a rough time.”

I cover my mouth with a hand, and it takes everything in me not to bust up laughing. I probably shouldn’t, but Nate coming into the bathroom just stomped on my last nerve.

“Yes, sir,” Nate says. Banjo Randy disappears out the door like a magic bunny.

Pops looks at me before giving me a nod. “Go on now, you’re free.”

I don’t like the thought of abandoning a job I started, so I say, “Thank you. But I’m happy to stay and help—”

“You’ve done enough, Poppins.” He takes the mop from my hands before meeting my gaze. “It’s always me who cleans the bathroom when it needs doing. I do the job because no one else wants it, and I’m okay with that. I just…” He blows out a breath. “I was just thinking that if you’re going to run your own place, you gotta know how to do it all. I think you’ve learned what you need to. And now your brother’s gonna learn something today too.” He nods toward the door. “Now, git.”

“Oh.” How does he know I want my own restaurant? And he’s been doing all this because he really wants me to succeed? But why would he do that?

I walk over and put my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, sir.”

“Get out of here. Don’t be coming on to me in the men’s room, now.”

I laugh. “All right.”

As I make my way back to the kitchen, my mind spins. Pops took my side. And I’m not sure how I’m going to get through this “training program” of his, but at the same time, he’s right.

All these things are a part of running a business. If I can’t do them, then I won’t be able to do the job. It’s hard work, and much of it isn’t glamorous. Owning my own restaurant means having to do it all, grunt work included.

Which also means that Pops believes in me, and apparently, Jack does too.

I raise my chin, slap a towel across my shoulder, and get back to filling condiment containers with a grin.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY, when I walk into the kitchen, I can barely believe my eyes. “Jack,” I say, fighting like mad to keep the excitement out of my voice. My pulse kicks up so fast and so hard I hear the whooshing in my ears.

“Welcome back, buddy!” Jordan calls out from behind the grill. “This place fell apart while you were gone.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack bats a hand. “You don’t need me, big guy. That’s why I hired you.” He puts on his vest before turning to me. “How’s everything been?”

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