Page 28 of Spoonful

He had a brief fleeting thought of just leaving, but not only did he not want to do that to Carlos, he also wanted to be able to come back toEl Guanacoin the future. Which meant he couldn't just high-tail it now that he’d offered to help.

All that was left to do was set his shoulders and try his best.

He headed to the kitchen to locate a water pitcher–refill drinksCarlos had said–and when he arrived, there were several trays of freshly-made food just sitting there. Waiting to be taken out.

“Uh,” Jaylin tried amid the bustle and noise of the kitchen. “Who is this for?”

No one even looked over to ask why on earth some random guy was in the kitchen.“Tables seven through nine!”someone barked in Spanish.“Happy fucking twenty-fifth!”Jaylin thought he recognized the man as Miguel. Jaylin had only seen him leave the kitchen a couple of times, but Carlos had pointed him out once, chattering on about how their abuela was planning on leaving the restaurant to himwhen she retires at one hundred thirty-seven but no sooner than that.Basically, when Abuela wasn’t there, Miguel was in charge.

Okay,Jaylin thought resolutely. No one liked cold food.

He’d seen enough servers to know that–ah, okay, he located the little folding table things that big trays got set on, stacked on up one side of the kitchen. He grabbed one and hooked it over his elbow, then very carefully picked up one of the large trays of food.

Right. Okay.

He didn't know the table numbers all that well, but several of the big table groups had balloons. Jaylin had trouble differentiating his2sand5s, but he did know the general shape of them. They looked different from5and0which were what the balloons on the other big table grouping across the room said.

Mindful of the heavy tray, he picked his way towards tables seven through nine, all clustered together so that the group was as close as they could be. When he got there, he tried to manage a smile to hide his nerves as he gingerly unfolded the table and set the tray on it. “Uh, hi–happy anniversary. Sorry, I’m filling in for a sec, so I didn’t take your orders.” He glanced down at the tray and thankedEl Guanaco’sincredibly visual menu, because at least he mostly recognized the dishes.Fake it til you make it.He’d figure this out through the process of elimination. “Who ordered the chimichanga?”

The dishes were miraculously distributed without issue, and Jaylin assured the table that he’d be right back with the rest of the food. As he rushed to the kitchen, someone from another table flagged him down to ask for drink refills.

“Yeah, I, uh, sorry,” Jaylin said. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”

He got to the kitchen, grabbed the second tray of food, went back to the anniversary table to distribute it, swung by the other table to get drinks orders, then headed back to the kitchen again. He didn't bother trying to write anything down, because all the drinks were easy enough to memorize.

He also didn't bother asking where the drinks were once he got to the kitchen, because he spied the soda machine on the right side and beelined to it, plucking up a tray on the way.

One sprite, one diet coke, two strawberry lemonades–then he added a pitcher of ice water and went back out.

Camille was just seating a table of four when Jaylin finished with the drinks, and she gave him a truly bewilderedlook as he passed her with the water pitcher. He shrugged, unable to convey how completely he didn't understand what was going on either, but he did fill four glasses with water and brought them to the new table, taking further drink orders before noticing that the two people at the table behind the giant anniversary party didn’t look like they were eating anymore. Just sitting and talking, with mostly-empty plates.

They were interested in dessert when he asked, so he just went with it, scribbling down his best guess at spelling their orders before heading back to the kitchen to give the order to Miguel.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when someone grabbed his arm just as he was heading to the kitchen again. Jaylin jumped and whirled around—to see Carlos staring at him in horror.

“What?” Jaylin asked uneasily. Did he get someone’s order wrong?

“What do you meanwhat?” Carlos burst out. “We said twenty minutes!”

“Okay…?” Jaylin honestly didn't know how long it had been.

“I thought you ate and left!” Carlos said, jabbing a finger in Jaylin’s direction.

Jaylin huffed. “No one told me my food was ready. And it’s been busy.”

“‘It’s been busy,’ he says,” Carlos repeated, grabbing at his hair. “Aubela’s going to kill me.”

“Why?” Jaylin was doing his best not to scowl now. He kind of thought he had been doing a good job.

“Because I don’t have the authority to hire someone! And you’re going to have to be on payroll after tonight!”

“Oh–” That reminded him. “About that…” Jaylin pulled some bills out of his pocket and offered them to Carlos. It wasn’tan insignificant amount of money, and Jaylin didn't need to be holding it any longer than he had to. “A few people finished and stuff.”

Carlos looked at him as though Jaylin had insulted his mother. “Those aretips.”

“I know that,” Jaylin hissed, more annoyed than concerned now. “But you were busy.”

“I was busy working the other side of the restaurant, because I thought someone had been called in to take care of my side!”

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