A Slice of Life

by Margaret Lake

  Chapter Five

  Grace skipped her morning routine the next day so she could catch an early bus. She didn't want to miss Rosalie and she wanted to talk to Hank. She approached him as soon as she got on.

  “Hank, I really liked your story.”

  “You read it already?” he smiled.

  “Yes, and I wanted to thank you for letting me ride your bus and talk to your passengers. I know I must have been disruptive sometimes.”

  If you understood my story, you know I enjoy people and I admire you very much.”

  Grace blushed under his frank appraisal. She had no experience with men and didn't know if he was flirting with her or what. But that didn't matter. Only Mandy mattered.

  “Even so, you've been a big help to me and I wanted you and Mandy to be my guest at Coulter's for dinner.”

  “Coulter's!” he exclaimed. “That's a pretty pricey restaurant. A diner would do fine for us.”

  Grace had to laugh.

  “I guess I never told you my last name.” She grinned and extended her hand. “Hi, I'm Grace Coulter.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Coulter.” He took her hand in his. “I'm Hank Watson.” Then he had to laugh, too. “I should have guessed. I pick you up every day right outside the restaurant and you're writing a cookbook.”

  “Hey, Gracie,” Rosalie called from the back, “will you let go of the man's hand so we can get this show on the road?”

  Grace blushed again as she dropped Hank's hand like a hot potato.

  “Any time tonight. A table will be waiting for you.”

  Grace moved down the aisle toward Rosalie, happier than she'd ever been in her life.

  “You got something going with ole' Hank?” Rosalie asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “No, not really,” Grace protested. “And he's not old. He's just a few years older than me and ...” She stopped, blushing again when Rosalie laughed at her.

  “Look at you, lady,” she grinned. “When you first got on this stagecoach, you were wound tighter than a clock spring. Now you're asking a man out on a date.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Grace protested. “It's not like that at all.”

  “And just what is it like, Gracie?” Rosalie asked archly.

  “It's Mandy. You told me about her and I saw her pictures. I heard him thanking Mrs. Haverty for the idea of getting her a puppy. I can put two and two together. With all that she's been through in her young life, she's withdrawing more and more into herself. I'll bet she doesn't have any playmates and doesn't like to be seen in public.”

  “How do you know all that?” Rosalie asked.

  “Because, I was just the same way until a few weeks ago. Not just painfully shy, but so shy that I wouldn't even say good morning to the people I work with. I'm lucky that most of them have known me since I was a little girl and they accept me the way I am.”

  “Looking at you now, I'd never know it.” Rosalie shook her head in wonder.

  “For the last thirty years, I've been alone. No friends, certainly no husband or children, not even a boyfriend. I don't want Mandy to waste her life like that.”

  Rosalie reached across and touched Grace's arm.

  “You're a good lady, Gracie, with a good heart. And I'll bet my last dollar that you'll have all those things before you know it.”

  Grace bit her lip and sighed before replying.

  “One step at a time, Rosalie. One step at a time.”

  Rosalie had gotten off the bus at the college. She'd told everyone where she’d be if they wanted to drop off their recipes. She left Grace with the promise that she'd bring anything she got to Coulter's.

  Grace wanted to stay on the bus until Mrs. Haverty and Mr. Roberts got on so she could tell them she wouldn't be around for a while. She had their contact information and would stay in touch. But it was getting late and she had a lot to do. Hank promised to pass on her message and tell them they could stop by Coulter's any time for a meal on the house.

  She raced up the stairs to her apartment, throwing her purse on the sofa and kicking off her shoes in the living room. Those were things she'd never done before, but she didn't even give it a second thought. What she did give thought to as she sat down and arranged her skirt was that she needed some new clothes. She looked like a turn of the century factory girl in a shirtwaist.

  Later. I'll have to think about that later. Right now I've got to start making friends on line.

  Rosalie had advised her to write up three or four blogs so she'd be ahead and she decided to start with that. All the new fliers had her Twitter and Facebook handles and Rosalie assured her friends would follow.

  She jotted down several ideas for blogs and then decided to start with her parents’ story and how they had founded the restaurant. The next one would be about the recession and how it was affecting them and the whole downtown area. The third one would be about the cookbook and finally a fourth one about how the merchants were starting to pull together to save downtown.

  Grace soon lost track of time as she became lost in the world of blogging. She finished the second one and thought she would take a peek at her accounts and was surprised that she had a dozen friend requests on Facebook and about thirty followers on Twitter. She responded to all of them as Rosalie said she should. Just as she finished the last one, her phone rang, startling her. She rarely got phone calls.

  “Hello?”

  “Grace, honey, it's Mom.”

  “Mom? Is Dad alright?”

  “Yes, your father's fine.” Evie cleared her throat, afraid that Grace might have had a relapse. “Honey, are you coming to work today?”

  “Oh, gosh, the time!” Grace exclaimed. “I'll be there in five minutes.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Grace hung up and raced to her room, tearing off her clothes as she went. She threw on her uniform and tied a bandana around her hair as she dashed down the stairs.

  “Sorry, Mom,” she apologized as she rushed breathlessly past her to the kitchen.

  She was brought up short by the sight of her father in an apron and chef's hat adding seasoning to something on the stove..

  “Dad, you shouldn't be doing that!” Grace rushed up to him, all but snatching the spoon out of his hand.

  “Don't worry, Gracie,” he assured her. “I'm just keeping an eye on things.”

  “And I'm keeping an eye on him, Chef Grace,” Felix assured her. “Nobody here is going to let Chef Keith lift a thing.” He looked sternly around the room to make sure that everyone agreed with him.

  “Thank you, Felix. My thanks to all of you for the way you've come through for us.” They were staring openly at her. It was the most she'd ever said to them at one time. “You know what we're doing to try to save the restaurant and I spent the morning working on a blog to get the word out. That's why I was late.”

  “Chef Grace, doing what you're doing is a lot of work so we talked among ourselves and made a decision,” Felix told her. “We're all going to come in an extra hour or two in the morning to give you the time to do what you need to do to make this cookbook a success.”

  Grace was overwhelmed by their generosity and felt the tears well up in her eyes.

  “But you've volunteered to help with the testing, too. We can't ask you to do more than that,” she protested past the lump in her throat.

  “We'll do the testing on Sundays when the restaurant is closed,” Felix told her.

  “But what about your families?” Grace asked.

  “Coulter's is our family, too, and what's good for Coulter's is good for all of us,” Felix declared.

  There was nothing left for Grace to do but thank these warm-hearted people humbly for their generous offer.

  “Gracie,” Keith grinned, “how would you like chicken fricassee for lunch?” He waved his hand over the pan of chicken he'd been seasoning and laughed at the expression on her face.

  “Rosalie's recipe?” she breathed. “I'd be delighted!”

  The fricassee turned
out to be heaven on a plate. Keith had made some side dishes from other recipes they'd gotten and had a suggestion to make.

  “What do you think if we put together a whole meal for that Sunday dinner section of yours?”

  “I think that's a fine idea, Dad.” She paused to mop up the last of the gravy. “Did we get any more in today?”

  “Sure did. Your Mom has them.”

  “I'll go help her with them. We need to start coordinating them. I guess I'd better set up a data base that we'll use to put the book together.”

  As she left, Keith could only shake his head in wonder. Could this confident, take-charge woman be his shy, retiring daughter of only a few weeks ago? It was nothing short of a miracle.

  Grace and Evie worked furiously all afternoon to get everything organized before the dinner hour. They'd just about finished when Rosalie rushed in with a big stack of recipes. It was all they could do not to groan out loud.

  “I've got a camera full of pictures, too. I numbered all the forms so we'd know which picture goes with which.”

  “Rosalie, you're a treasure,” Evie declared fervently.

  “You just show me where I can download these and print them out. Then I can attach them to the forms and label them with a name in the computer.”

  “I take that back, Rosalie. You're not a treasure. You're a godsend,” Evie declared.

  Rosalie beamed at Evie, pleased with the praise.

  “Can I get you something from the kitchen?” Grace asked.

  “Maybe after I finish. You have some pretty fancy food here and I might not feel like working after I stuff myself,” Rosalie laughed.

  Grace was anxious to get back into the kitchen. Evie was the one who thrived on paperwork; not her. Her place was in front of a stove. The work needed to be done, and she was actually having some fun doing it, but she knew she'd be glad when it was over.

  Hank called Carrie as soon as he and the second shift driver changed places. He wanted to alert her to the fact that he had plans for the evening and enlist her help in convincing Mandy.

  “Hank!” she shrieked into the phone as soon as he told her. “Oh my God, you're actually going out on a date! I can't believe it!”

  “Don't get all excited, Carrie,” Hank sighed, “it's just the cookbook lady. I think she might be able to help Mandy.”

  “Well, maybe you better let me keep Mandy tonight so you and the cookbook lady can discuss your strategy,” Carrie offered.

  Hank knew it was a genuine offer, but he knew his sister well and he could almost see her impish grin over the phone.

  “C'mon, Carrie, it's just a dinner at Coulter's,” he protested.

  “Coulter's? That's a pretty fancy place for a casual night out.”

  “Guess I didn't get around to telling you,” he mumbled. “The lady's name is Coulter. Grace Coulter.”

  “Wow, Grace Coulter. I'm impressed,” Carrie breathed. “When you finally get around to dating, you do it in a big way.”

  Hank rolled his eyes. Carrie just wasn't going to give up.

  “Carrie, my dear adorable sister,” he tried once again, “I did not … I repeat not … ask Ms. Coulter out on a date. She merely asked me to stop by for dinner with Mandy.”

  “Oh-ho,” Carrie laughed, “so she asked you!”

  “Enough,” Hank laughed. “I give up. Have it your way.” He reached his car and pulled out his keys, clicking the lock open. “Look, I just wanted you to prepare Mandy a little. I don't know how she's going to take going to a restaurant and meeting new people.”

  “You're right,” Carrie sighed. “This might be a tough one. She thought about it for a minute. “How about if I run out and buy her a new dress? There's plenty of time while you shower and shave. And it wouldn't hurt for you to put on that shirt I bought you last Christmas. I'll bet you haven't worn it at all!”

  “That's a good idea, Carrie.” It had to be. He couldn't think of any other way to convince Mandy to go out for dinner and he certainly wasn't going to force her. “I'll be there in fifteen minutes.” He clicked off and got in his car, relieved that his sister had given him a bribe (there was no other way to describe it) to use on his little girl.

  Mandy was waiting for him on the porch steps as usual. It always gave his heart a lift to see her delicate beauty. Something was different today. She didn't have her nose buried in a book but sat with her arms across her knees, her head down.

  As he drew closer, Hank waited for her look up with that shy smile on her face. There was no Hello, Daddy to greet him today.

  Carrie signaled to him from behind the screen door, shaking her head. Apparently, she'd been unsuccessful.

  “Hiya, Honey,” he said gently, sitting down beside Mandy on the steps. “Did Auntie Carrie tell you about the nice place we're going to have dinner tonight?”

  “Not going,” Mandy said, turning away from Hank.

  “Can I just tell you about it, sweetie?”

  Mandy peeked at Hank from behind the curtain of silky hair she used to cover her face. At least there was a gleam in her violet eyes that meant she wasn't hiding in her make-believe world.

  “Okay. There's this nice lady that rides my bus and her family owns a restaurant. She invited you and me to come have dinner there. Not with her,” he hastened to add “because she has to be in the kitchen. She'll probably come out just to say hi, but that's all.”

  Mandy continued to glower at her father, but he kept on trying to convince her.

  “And she said there's a special table in the back away from everyone else that she keeps for special customers like you and me.” He smiled at Mandy hopefully. “How does that sound?”

  “Not going,” Mandy said stubbornly.

  “Auntie Carrie is going to buy you a new dress. A blue one. Your favorite color. It's been a long time since you've had a new party dress. I'll even put on a blue shirt and tie so that we match. How's that?”

  “Not going,” Mandy said again, but her lower lip began to quiver as tears welled in her eyes. “Won't leave Sam all by himself at home.”

  “Okay. How about we bring Sam here and he can play with the boys while you and I go out?”

  “Sam has to come, too,” she nearly shouted.

  Hank was glad to see his daughter show some emotion, but he still hoped to convince her. He understood her need to bring the pup. She'd developed the habit of using Sam to hide her face.

  “They don't allow dogs in restaurants, but I'll tell you what. I'll call Miss Grace and ask if there's someplace nice where Sam can wait for us while we eat. And I'll bet she'll have a nice bone he can chew on while he's waiting.”

  “If Sam can't go, we don't have to go?” Mandy asked skeptically.

  “Well, I don't want to hurt Miss Grace's feelings, so I might go by myself.” Hank hoped that might help tip the scales. He never went out, not even for a beer after work with some of the other drivers. He'd gradually lost all his friends, had given up everything, to devote himself to his daughter.

  Mandy looked like she wasn't going to say another word, so Hank patted her knee and stood to go inside to make his phone call.

  Carrie was ahead of him. She already had the number and handed him the phone.

  “Just do whatever you have to, Hank,” she whispered. “We can't let this go on.”

  Hank nodded grimly, dialing the number, wondering what he could possibly say to Grace.

  “Coulter's, how may I help you?”

  “Grace? This is Hank from the bus.” Oh, that sounded real smooth, Watson, he chided himself.

  “No, this is Grace's mother, Evie Coulter. Grace told us to expect you and your daughter for dinner tonight.”

  “I'm sorry, Mrs. Coulter, you sound so much like Grace.”

  “That's alright. And please, call me Evie.”

  “Thanks, Evie. Could I speak to Grace for a minute? I'll understand if she's busy in the kitchen.”

  “There's an extension in the kitchen. I'll just buzz her if you'll hold on
for a minute.”

  “Thanks, Evie,”

  Evie transferred the call with a light heart. This Hank had a nice voice and she'd read his bio. From what she had said about him, she thought that Grace might really like the man. A mother never stops hoping for her little girl to find happiness, she sighed to herself, and trotted off to tell Keith about the call.

  “Hi, Hank,” Grace answered, “I hope we're still on for tonight.”

  “I hope so, too,” he replied. “Mandy is refusing to go tonight unless she can bring Sam.”

  “Of course she can bring one of her little friends,” Grace agreed.

  Hank laughed. “No, I don't think you understand. Mandy doesn't have any friends except for Sam and Sam is her puppy.”

  “Oh,” Grace giggled. “I should have known.”

  “I was thinking maybe if there was a storeroom or some place where we could put Sam while we're there, she might be happy with that.”

  “Wait a minute, Hank, let me think.”

  She was quiet way too long for Hank's comfort.

  “I've got it. Can you hold on for a moment?”

  “Sure.” Hank could hear her talking, though her hand over the phone muffled her voice.

  “Okay, Hank, all set.”

  “We can bring Sam?”

  “Yes, but I've had a better idea. I live in the apartment above the restaurant. Would it be okay if we had dinner there? I think Mandy might be more comfortable.”

  “I think that will work. Can you hold on a moment?”

  “Sure.”

  Hank put down the phone to go talk to Mandy. Being the incurable romantic she was, Carrie picked it up.

  “Hi, Miss Coulter? This is Hank's sister, Carrie.”

  “Carrie, how nice to meet you. I read your story and I think you're a very courageous woman.”

  “Not at all. As Hank likes to say, everyone has a story.”

  “Even so, I'm very glad you picked up the phone. I hope we'll be friends?” Grace asked tentatively.

  “Oh, I think we will be, Miss Coulter. I really appreciate what you're doing for Hank and Mandy.”

  “Please, if we're going to be friends, call me Grace. And I'd like to ask your advice. Since I'll be cooking tonight I wanted to know if Mandy likes that cauliflower recipe of yours. I want her to have something familiar to put her at ease.”