by Dale Mayer
Ilse pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “When can you come in?” she asked, not even believing that she was asking such a question. But Stefan was the only one looking after his mother, who had stage four breast cancer and was homebound. How did you even begin to ask somebody to come in when his life was falling apart like that?
“The hospice nurse will be coming this afternoon,” he said. “She’ll be here for about an hour, and then I’ve got Rosy coming over to sit with her.”
“So, you can come and help with dinner service then? That would work.”
“The thing is, it can only work if everybody shows up as planned,” he said hesitantly.
“I know,” she said. “Otherwise, maybe tomorrow morning.” After the call, she put away her phone and looked over to see the others quickly glancing away. “All right, you guys. What would you have me do?” she asked. “His mother is dying.”
With that, she turned and walked out, heading to her office. She knew they would talk about it because no kitchen in any of the big companies would allow this behavior. But she wanted to be more than just a company and more than just another commercial kitchen. She wanted to show the heart and the face of what Hathaway House stood for in Dallas and worldwide. For the patients but for the staff as well.
She’d worked here for years and had seen how important it was to set the right tone. She had seen the success and the growth that came with it. She’d seen it in her own staff too, but this was a hard thing to let attendance slide because of the precedent it sent. And she knew that, as the top dog, she would step in to do Stefan’s work. She didn’t have a problem with that and had done it many times before and would do it many times in the future. But it was a whole different deal when it happened over and over again.
As she sat behind her desk with the paperwork to review, Ricky came in and handed off the signed forms that he’d stapled together with the others. “Okay,” he said, “all these orders are clear.”
She nodded, glanced to make sure it was all in order, and popped them into a folder.
“What will you work on now?” he asked, walking back to the doorway.
“Next week’s menu,” she said, standing up and walking over to the huge whiteboard that already had the days of the week lined out with spaces for the meals on each day.
“Do you want a hand?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
Ricky closed the door quietly behind him, and she stood here in silence for a long moment, wondering if and when any of these staff issues would ever change. She hoped soon for Stefan’s sake, because his situation had to be just brutal. And her thoughts went from Stefan, with his dark hair and skinny body, to the dark-haired guy with the alabaster white skin and the frail body she had met earlier today. Keith, Robin’s brother.
He obviously hadn’t seen the sun in a year. His body had been beaten and torn first by the explosion and the associated physical and emotional trauma, then by all the surgical procedures trying to stitch him back together as well as possible. She had long been amazed at the versatility and the agility of the patients in this place but was stunned when she’d heard from Robin how many surgeries he’d had and what a mess his body still was at this point. She could only hope he would get through this.
She also hated the idea of him barely eating. That’s the chef in me, she thought to herself. Going to bed on an empty stomach went against the grain, and she knew he’d sleep better with food, but only if it was something his stomach would tolerate. She quickly checked to see in her New Patient Notice if Keith had any dietary restrictions prescribed, and there were none. A lot of things upset his system because his stomach had taken some shrapnel too.
The last of that had been surgically removed, but it was a different story to get his gastrointestinal system settled again. She remembered that she had a good potato soup in the kitchen, and maybe that, with some big slabs of toasted French bread, might go down just fine. But not a whole lot of protein was in that.
Frowning, she walked back out to the kitchen, got a small pot, and quickly warmed up some of the soup, adding cheese and some chunks of ham. When she had a good thick broth, she put it into a bowl, toasted some French bread, and added a little plate she’d prepared with some sliced meat and cheese. With that done, she called Dennis in.
He came walking through, wearing his bright, cheerful smile as always. She pointed at the tray and said, “Keith just arrived today. He hasn’t eaten, and he’s saying no to food, but, when I was talking to him, I was thinking food might not be a bad idea.”
Dennis immediately nodded. “That’s Robin’s brother, isn’t it?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, and he does not look happy to be here.”
He looked at her in surprise.
She shrugged. “I don’t think he’s all that happy to be on the planet just now.”
Understanding lit Dennis’s face. They’d both been here for some time and had seen a lot of patients come and go, with some pretty serious physical and mental health issues. “I’ll take this and see if I can get him to eat a little something,” he said. He picked it up and walked out with the tray in his hand.
Gerard looked over at her. “Is he okay? The new guy?”
“First day. Traveling is brutal, and his surgical list is long enough for twenty-five people,” she said, with a shake of her head. “The fact that he’s even alive is pretty amazing, but his skin is pure white because he hasn’t seen daylight or sunshine in probably a year or more.” The others all winced at that. “We’ll see if he eats.”
She had just stepped back into her office when the phone rang with a call from Dani. “What’s up?”
Chapter 2
“Hey,” Dani said. “I just passed Dennis, and he said you were sending food down to Keith.”
“Hoping to tempt him to eat a bit, yes,” she said. “Problem?”
Dani chuckled. “Gosh no,” she said. “I just wanted to thank you for being you.”
Surprised, Ilse shrugged, even though she knew Dani couldn’t see it. “It’s all good. You know that.”
“I know,” Dani said, “but it’s also why this place works,” she said. “We come from the heart. That doesn’t mean Keith’s eating anything. It doesn’t mean he’ll even be in any condition to excel here,” she said. “That was my concern with bringing in a family member, honestly. But we’ll do our best by him regardless.”
“Looks like a lot of people have done their best by him,” Ilse said quietly. “Now he has to get to the point where he can offer that to himself.”
“I know,” Dani said, “and that’s a mental shift that he’ll have to figure out how to make. He’s barely even recovered from the last of the surgeries, and I know his trip here was pretty brutal. But now that he’s here, he can settle in and hopefully make some progress.”
“Got it,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind keeping an eye out to see how he does,” she said. “I know Robin will fill me in to a certain extent, but she said it would be okay if I walked down there to see if he needs anything later.”
“If you want to do that, it’s fine,” Dani said in surprise. “But, given the number of relationships that happen around this place”—her humor slid into her voice—“you might want to watch out, just in case somebody’s watching.”
“You mean, the gossiping tongues?” Ilse asked drily. “I don’t care who talks. That doesn’t mean I’m listening.”
“Got it,” Dani said. “In that case, enjoy.” And, with that, she hung up.
Ilse put down her phone, and, ignoring everything else around her, she picked up her marker and headed back to her meal planning calendar up on the wall, which kept track of what had been served over each season of the current year. For previous years, she had an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of those. Her whiteboard sat on an easel near the wall calendar, in case she was stumped on what to offer or just to check what may have been repeated too often or not often enough.
The me
nu was something she had to work on constantly. Never was an easy time to deal with it, though. And, from any given week, she carried certain favorites over as regulars. The food was always touted as being some of the best in facilities of this kind, and no way she would let any month, day, or week drop below that standard. It was just not in her to do any less today than she did yesterday. And, with that note, she started working on the next menu.
Keith was dozing in bed and shivering slightly when a knock on his door got his attention. He opened his eyes to see a huge male, wearing a big grin, walking in the door, carrying a tray. He put it down on the small swing table and moved it closer to the bed.
“Hi, I’m Dennis,” he said. “Ilse sent this over for you.”
He looked at the food, looked at Dennis, and said, “I’m pretty sure I told her that I didn’t want anything to eat,” he said with caution.
But Dennis studied him with a critical gaze. “And you’re shivering,” he said bluntly. “You need some hot soup, and we need to get you some warm blankets. You start eating. I’ll take care of the other.” With that, he was gone.
Now that he was more awake, Keith realized that he really was quite cold. The hot soup was a good idea; he hadn’t really expected to get room service. It was a nice concept, but the thought that Ilse had sent it was what he struggled with. Still, he picked up the spoon and took a sip. Only partly admitting he was doing it for her.
Then he stopped, savoring the taste in his mouth before swallowing. Not only was it good and the flavors beautifully blended but it added a wonderfully warm and soothing element to his body. He picked up another spoonful chock-full of tender meat, and, before long, his soup was half gone.
He stared at his bowl, surprised. He almost never ate this much. And he noted a plate with meat and cheese was on the side too. At first, he wouldn’t have any, but he picked up one and then a second piece. The next thing he knew, one of the big pieces of toast was gone, as was most of the meat and cheese.
By the time Dennis walked back into his room, Keith was pushing away the tray.
Dennis caught sight of it, looked at him, and said, “Wow, you were hungry.” Quickly Dennis opened up the heated blanket and laid it across Keith’s body.
Immediately he moaned. “Oh, God. Now I know how cold I was. I had no idea.”
Dennis tucked him in, and the shivers started.
“You let those shivers work,” Dennis ordered. “Let’s get that body temperature back up again.” He nodded at the tray. “You ate half of everything. Do you want any more?”
“I want to,” he said, “but I’m scared of pushing my stomach.”
“You know what? That’s probably wise,” he said. “Let’s just call it quits with this amount right now, if that’s okay with you.”
Hesitating, Keith looked at it. “Let me have a few more bites of that soup.” Struggling to keep the blanket tucked around his chest, he had another three or four spoonfuls until it was mostly gone. As the tray was about to go, he picked up the rest of the meat and cheese and said, “Okay, now I’m done.”
“Good thing,” Dennis said, “because the only thing you left was a half a piece of bread.”
He smiled, sank back into the covers. “Man, I don’t know where you got this heated blanket from, but, God, it’s exactly what I needed.”
“Yeah, we all need them sometimes,” he said. “Now hopefully you’ll get some sleep tonight. That must have been a rough trip getting here.”
“Yeah, it was pretty painful. Right now, I’m mostly just cold,” he said.
“Of course you are. Your body has been through a lot. Now rest. That’s what you need.”
He nodded and sank farther under the covers, slowly munching the last of the meat and cheese. By the time that was gone, his eyelids drifted closed. He wasn’t sure how Ilse had known what he wanted to eat, but it was a perfect choice, and he appreciated it.
As soon as he got the chance, he would tell her. Later. Anything that required movement right now was way too much to contemplate. He closed his eyes, and, within minutes, he fell asleep.
Chapter 3
When Ilse walked from her on-site apartment into the center in the wee hours of the morning, she took a long, deep breath. She loved the place when it was quiet and almost empty. It was five o’clock in the morning. She didn’t always come in at this hour, but she had woken up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so she figured she’d get an early start on breakfast. She knew that some of her crew would already be here, but she had her own keys to get in and out.
Nobody manned the front desk yet, but nurses would be on, orderlies around, and, of course, her kitchen staff filtering in. She walked the long hallway where a light shone through a door partially open. She frowned at the idea that she wasn’t the only one awake a little too early.
“Good morning,” she called out softly as she walked by. The voice that called back was one she recognized. Stopping, she turned around, walked back, and poked her head in the door. “What are you doing awake so early?” she asked Keith.
He looked at her in surprise. “I guess you’re up early, being a chef and all, huh?”
“I could work nine to five,” she said, “but I’d much rather work early.”
“Aren’t you here for all the meals?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “Sometimes I take a few hours off in the afternoon. It all depends on what I’m cooking.”
“And I guess it also depends on whether you have a decent staff or not,” he said with a smile.
“I have a very decent staff,” she said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. But it’s hard to let go of control on something like that.”
He nodded.
As he shifted uneasily in his bed, she watched him, knowing he was already in pain. “So, let me guess. The pain is getting to you, and you can’t go back to sleep.”
He shrugged. “Seems like something I just live with these days.”
“I don’t think you have to do that here,” she said. “The hot tub and the pool might be something you could use.”
“And that might help too,” he said. “I don’t know. I hate to ask anybody to give me a hand getting there.”
“Asking for help is hard,” she said, “but it’s also pretty necessary.”
He just smiled but didn’t say any more.
“So, I’ll go make a fresh pot of coffee,” she said, wagging her eyebrows at him. “You interested?” She watched the surprise light up his dark eyes, and, in spite of himself, he smiled and nodded slowly.
“That would be awesome,” he said. “And thank you for dinner last night. That soup was delicious.”
She smacked the doorjamb as she walked back out again. “See you in a few.” She headed down to her kitchen. Stepping inside her gleaming domain, she smiled. She didn’t know what she would do if she ever came in to find it completely destroyed or something because this was her space. This was where she belonged. It was her home, and a home she wanted spick-and-span and in perfect order at all times.
Gerard was already in. She rolled her eyes at him. “What are you up to?”
“You gave me free license to make pasta,” he said with a big grin. “So, here I am, making pasta.”
As she surveyed the kitchen, he had several counters full of rectangles of dough already laid out to be cut. “You’re hand cutting it?”
He nodded. “After you put on coffee,” he said with an encouraging smile. “We’ve been waiting for you to come in.”
“And why would you do that?” she asked.
“Because you are about to turn on the espresso machine,” he said with a laugh. “We just made regular drip coffee, and we already drank it.”
“Well, I do like my espresso in the morning,” she said comfortably. “But I’ll put on a pot of drip too.” And that’s what she did.
By the time she walked over with a cup for Gerard and for herself, he already had most of the dough cut and was laying everything onto a mobile unit of s
trings and long poles to roll in the backroom to dry.
“They won’t dry very much if we use them today,” she warned him.
“I know,” he said. “They’ll dry just enough.”
She laughed and gave him a hand.
By the time all the noodles were hung, he looked remarkably proud of himself. She had to admit they looked lovely. “Maybe I’ll take a picture of that and post it on the website,” she said. “We’ll see how many people choose fresh pasta today.” Pulling out her phone, she took several shots, including some with Gerard beside his work. “Now, let’s get our coffee.” And then she remembered her promise. “Oh, but I have to deliver a cup first.”
He looked at her in surprise.
“One of the patients is awake,” she said. “I met him yesterday, and, when I walked past his room, I saw his light was on, so I called out a good morning and stopped for a minute.”
Gerard nodded. “Potato-soup dude?”
“Yeah, exactly. Potato-soup dude,” she said, laughing. “Good thing I sent it up. He ate 99 percent of it.”
“Wow,” Gerard said. “We should be doing more of that, shouldn’t we? You know? Checking out the patients ourselves to make sure they’re getting what they need from us.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure Dani has all that taken care of, but I do think it would be a good idea every once in a while for us to spend some time visiting with the patients, to see just what they’d like to eat.”
“I think the last time we did that,” he said, “we had menu ideas for six months.”
“Considering that I struggled with the menu board just yesterday,” she said, “that’s not a bad idea.” She walked over and poured a cup of drip coffee, put it on a small tray with milk, sugar, and a spoon, just in case. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’ll be here,” he said.
Tray in hand, she headed back down the hallway, wondering whether Keith would be sleeping by now or not. She walked to the doorway, finding it was still open, the light still on. She poked her head through and saw he was just lying there, his eyes barely closed. “I don’t want to wake you,” she said quietly, “but the coffee’s here.”
