@JeremySP: Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?
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7
LEAH
I wouldn’t saythat I’m a professional waitress, but I’m pretty good at what I do. For instance, I know better than to put straws on a wet table. I always bring extra napkins to families and am conscientious about when to clear empty plates.
Except today.
I’m off my game. I forgot to bring drink refills, got a couple’s order backward—she ordered the burger and he got the Buffalo chicken salad—and thought I brought a table their bill, but it was in my apron for twenty minutes.
Emerson, my coworker, restocks the sugar packets for the caffeine addicts who are desperate enough to drink our coffee rather than go to a real coffee shop. “Do you need to chill?”
Despite my pride, I say, “Yes. Literally.”
“Take three. I’ll cover you.”
I pass through the kitchen to the walk-in freezer and seal myself inside. I sit down on the upside-down milk crate and reach behind the bin of shredded cheese to our secret gummy bear stash. Aleeyah introduced Heidi, Emerson, and me to this little trick.
We used to call ourselves the Core Four, but only two of us still work here at the Fish Bowl. Aleeyah got her decorativewreath business off the ground and has a studio in the Old Mill building. Heidi married her hockey sweetheart, though having heard the story in its entirety during shifts, it wasn’t a love-at-first-sight thing. More like she fell for her brother’s best friend when he saw that she was all grown up. Gracie probably has an entire shelf for books with that trope in her shop.
I wonder if she has one titled,My Ex-Best Friend’s Brother Just Emailed Me Back But Doesn’t Know I’m His Secret Adversary and Now He Wants to Expose My Identity. That’s a bit long, but it’s to the point.
Seated on the milk crate, I pop a frozen gummy bear into my mouth. It takes exactly three minutes for it to melt. You can’t bite it. Otherwise, you risk cracking a tooth. But for the first twenty seconds, you’ll want to chomp that cute little bear and crush it between your teeth like all your frustrations. But as the sugar melts in your mouth, a strange soothing comes next. It helps if you close your eyes, too.
No sooner is the bear gone than I’m refreshed, on my feet, and back on the floor.
A woman with caramel-colored hair sits with her back to me. It doesn’t look like Emerson had a chance to wait on her. A lot can happen in three minutes, including but not limited to a customer gettinghangryand then taking it out on you for the rest of their visit.
“Hello, welcome to O’Neely’s—” I start my usual spiel welcoming her to the Fish Bowl and explaining how we specialize in all things potato and corn, including corn on the cob served five different ways, corn fritters, and cornbread, along with french fries, also served five different ways with special sauce. People also love the loaded potato skin pub pucks, topped with corn and five more things. Many of the menu items are deep fried, but the Fish Bowl is a reference to a hockey player’shelmet rather than a home for fish. However, we do offer fish fingers on the children’s menu.
I stop my spiel because it’s Heidi and she’s alone. I incline my head because this worries me. I can think of several other places this busy mom would patronize if she had the opportunity to dine solo during the day.
“Can you sit?” she asks.
I look around. The dining room is half full and everyone is relatively content, though I anticipate the lady with purple poodle curls is going to ask for another straw any time now—she doesn’t like it when too much of her lipstick gets on it.
I ask, “Is everything okay?”
Heidi smiles. “Yes. I just have a special request and it’s time-sensitive.”
I perch on the edge of the wooden chair, ready to hop to my feet if someone so much as drops a fork. “Anything.”
“I’m wondering if you’ll offer figure skating lessons.”
When she first moved back to Cobbiton, she worked here—her uncle’s place—and offered private lessons at the arena.
“Isn’t that your side hustle?”
Her mouth tugs to the side. “I can’t take on any new clients and Badaszek is desperate.”
“The Knights’ head coach is many things, but I cannot fathom that he’s desperate. But wait. Does this mean that he wants one of his players to?—?”
She nods. “To sharpen their skills.”
I hold in laughter. I mean, there’s nothing overtly funny about a hockey dude figure skating, except maybe a little bit, or if you have a sense of humor like mine. “I’m pretty busy.” This is true.