Stressed Spelled Backwards

by Ivanova, Svetlana

  The place was never actually jam-packed, and it made the deli look like a sardine can. I was pretty sure I made more money than Celia had ever seen in weeks.

  I even had patrons from different parts of the city who had come in just to try my new dessert. A whole new crowd started to come about six in the evening, and all they wanted was dessert. They weren't neighborhood crowd, either. Some pulled up in their Rolls-Royces and limos. Even the supermodels from last night showed up. They brought along their endless legs into our place, and suddenly, everything was a party in the Rio. Even Celia's rival across the street came out to watch the spectacle.

  At night, there were those from the trendy night lifers, winding the evening down with coffee and cakes. They got from movies and plays, concerts, and clubs, basketball games, all converging on our street to eat my delicious inventions. The buzz of conversation included such topics as foreign films, astrology, science and funky fashion, all this in Celia's restaurant.

  I was afraid my fellow tenants might complain about the noise and the late hours. But they seemed to enjoy the excitement. Karmen, Elise, and Ms. McHugh did their best to keep their tables, speed them through lines, and give them quick service.

  Clarice helped to take their orders while I felt like I had turned into an octopus in the kitchen. Once in a while, the blonde model would come in with new orders but not without giving me a peck on the lips before she left. That gave me enough energy to go on throughout the whole event.

  The opening day was a huge success!

  I pulled in twice as much as money from my dessert than from the three meals combined. I wasn't running Celia's business into the ground; I was launching it through the roof!

  The next day, it was still the same. Everything was going better than I expected. The one thing I wasn't looking forward to was that phone call from Celia. I'd already called her in the morning and had acted like it was business as usual. I'd even pretended to be ringing up a check because I knew the sound of the cash register was soothing to her ears. But now, would she be able to tell, with all her finely honed senses, that her deli was long gone, and mine had risen from its ashes?

  "I hear music, Miss. Kononovich, what is going on?!"

  "What music?" I pretended to say while signaling Karmen to tune it down. She had put on the best playlist that young hipsters loved these days. "Don't you also hear a lot of ka-chings?"

  I ran the cash register to calm her down.

  "Miss. Kaverina and Miss. Novikova came to see me this afternoon. I'd forgotten how annoying they are."

  "How are you doing, Celia?"

  "How am I doing? The nurses deny me all my favorite food and give me stuff they insist it's a good diet. I would rather have a strip of bacon right now even if they poisoned it."

  "Aw come on," I said. "You're gonna be just fine."

  "You're maybe deaf, Miss. Kononovich? This doctor I have here is a more annoying person than your two friends combined. What would make me well is to work in the restaurant. I'll ask them if I can go back soon."

  My heart lurched.

  "Well, I've got to go, Celia," I said. "A freshly baked cake is waiting for me!"

  "Okay. Go in good health. Make more money! You're a good girl!"

  That's twice she called me a good girl, and I couldn't be better.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Business continued to bomb and by early next week, I was totally exhausted. There was no way I could continue to be a cook, dessert chef, and landlady for a going concern like a clogged pipe. Besides, Ms. McHugh could only cover for the morning shift. Now, the deli was making more than enough money to spring for another staff member, especially since I was working for nothing more than tips and glory.

  The Help Wanted sign spent about forty-five minutes in our window before I had to interview my first applicant. Guess who?

  "I love what you've done with the place," Clarice raved. "Do you know that the whole neighborhoods have been known to turn on one or two little renovations like this?"

  "Do you have any restaurant experience?" I asked, figuring I would go through the motions before telling her she was overqualified after the interview.

  "Not really, but I learn fast, and I really need this job," she said with a bright smile at me. It was hard trying not to give in to her charm, but I had to be professional and cleared my throat.

  "Oh really?"

  "To be honest with you, I'm bored," she said. "You're always in the deli. That's the only way I could see you, Azra."

  I tried not to smile.

  "I still don't think you'd like it here," I said hopefully. "You see, here is all work and no play."

  "Who says there's no play?" she said and bit her bottom lip. I felt my cheek redden.

  "Clarice...I don't think..." I started.

  "You don't want me around?" she cut me off. She looked saddened and hung her head.

  "No!" I said and reached over for her hands. "It's not like that, Clarice. It's just that the pay is pretty lousy. The hours are hard, and there are no breaks..." And we flog you every night, and if you drop a glass, we feed you to the dragons in the dungeon. Please don't take the job!

  The blonde got up and sat beside me.

  "You're doing all those things, and you seem to be having fun," she argued.

  "Clarice, fun for me isn't the same for you," I persisted. "Your fun is trying on designer's clothes, shoes and fancy blink-blink on the runway, not weaving between tables and carrying trays!"

  "I think you underestimate me," she said and crossed her arms stubbornly. "I think I'd be a really good waitress because I work so well with people! Come on, Azra —please! "

  Then she gave me a lethal dose of lost puppy eyes.

  So I took her out and got her a uniform, only with a baby blue apron as to not be confused with mine, but she still ended my reign as the cutest waitress in our neighborhood.

  Karmen and Elise also seemed skeptical about my new choice. But surprise, surprise! She was a pretty good waitress, efficient, friendly, and unbelievably hardworking. Between us, we ran the place like clockwork. We were actually a perfect team!

  I wondered what would happen if Celia found out what I had done to her business. We already dealt with her back injury; I didn't want anything to do with her cardiac arrest. I hoped she wouldn't mind after she came face to face with the happy reality of a successful restaurant and a full cash register.

  Things were going as well as they could with word of mouth, my main form of advertising. My customers loved my Pyramid of Chocolate Cake, Marshmallow Mountain Fudge, and Rainbow- Candy-Floss UFO. They were my latest inventions for kids. I also made classic, gold-glittered, expensive-looking dessert fit for royalties for my mature fans. Business was growing steadily, but I knew it would take a special break to bump it up to the next level.

  Suddenly I found myself kind of disappointed by our current status. I spent my time at the blender contemplating Azra's Secrets' next big leap. Naturally, the best thing would be a media blitz, but we couldn't afford that.

  Actually, we could, but if Celia ever found out, I'd be in trouble. Clarice didn't understand my blue mood.

  "How much better could it be, Azra?" she said with her arms around my slumped shoulders. "Do you know how many places open up and never get near this successful?"

  "I want people lined up down the block," I tried to explain my perfectionist problem. "I want it to be like Gourmet Week. What is great about that Monica's place? How did she get a Michelin star?"

  Oh no! Before, I was starting to think like my mother, and that was bad enough. Now I was thinking like—Celia!

  But out of nowhere, came our big chance. One of the magazine editors I met at the fashion show called and told us that, on Friday, they'd be sending a restaurant critic to review my dessert kingdom. We wouldn't know who or when, just that they'd be coming Friday.

  I freaked out. Clarice, Ms. McHugh and I washed every square inch of the deli. I had our clothes bleached and starched. I e
ven replaced the plants that weren't doing well.

  Clarice was confident. "Relax, Azra. The place is gorgeous. Believe in your craft. We'll do fine."

  She gave me a kiss on the lips. It made me feel better, but I still wasn't sure.

  "I don't know," I muttered. "It's okay, but there's got to be that one little something extra we can add that'll take us from a good place to a great place. Like that Monica's."

  Geez, did I just turn into Celia already? I sounded exactly like her, minus her loud mouth.

  But Friday morning and afternoon I wracked my brain. Entertainment? No money, and no room. Food? I was lucky with the pastry department, but the rest of Celia's menu? Forget it, I was no great chef. Decoration? I had done all I could to turn this place into a sparkling gem. I needed a gimmick. Something different. And cheap.

  It came to me five minutes before opening. Elise's latest hobby was charcoal sketching, and she was pretty good at it, especially the portraits. Back when my two best friends were dating my now girlfriend, she'd done one of Clarice that came out so realistic that Karmen threatened to tear it into shreds.

  Wouldn't it add a sort of classy and artistic air to have a portrait artist working right in the restaurant? Nothing fancy, just a multi-talented Elise in a quiet corner, sketching the customers. They could pay attention if they were interested if not, it wouldn't bother them at all.

  I called Elise at work and offered her an extra job drawing my patrons.

  "But that's my hobby, I don't work," she said.

  "Of course, it's your hobby, and you can also put it into good use," I said.

  "A hobby is already a good use in itself," she reasoned. "If I turn my hobby into a business, it will give me pressure, and pressure is bad for hobbyists."

  I rolled my eyes, which that nerdy girl couldn't see.

  "Please, Elise, just help me out this one time," I said.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely," I said, only vaguely aware that I might be risking. "You don't have to do it every day. Just for one night."

  "Well, okay," she said reluctantly.

  After we hung up, I turned to Clarice. "We've got a portrait artist. Guess who? Elise!"

  Clarice was thrilled. "What a great idea!"

  Only Elise didn't show up. I called her agent every ten minutes, and I was told that she was out on another photo-shoot and was still on set. Why hadn't I been more specific? "Just for one night," had been my exact words. But I'd forgotten to mention that the "one night" had to be tonight. What if the night Elise picked was in July 2020? The people from the magazine would come and go, we'd get a mediocre review, and that would be it.

  As the evening wore on, my despair became just a dull ache. I stared long and hard into the face of every customer, trying to smoke out the reviewer so I could explain that our resident portrait artist was sick tonight. And couldn't he or she come back sometime to see how great it was? Like, maybe, in July 2020? Then I gave up on that, too. I didn't actually expect them to be wearing a flag that said, "Restaurant Critic Here!"

  But then, at eleven o'clock, guess who showed up? —Karmen.

  At first, I wasn't thinking much when I saw her. It happened in a flash that my hopes rekindled. I grabbed Karmen by the arm and began dragging her to a corner.

  "What's that?" she asked.

  "I need you to be an entertainment for tonight," I said. "It's important!"

  Karmen looked at me like I was crazy.

  "What am I, a lion tamer?" she said.

  "You always come up with crazy ideas that work," I said. "Now all I ask is one thing that will save the restaurant."

  Karmen wrinkled her nose as the cogs and wheels in her head began to turn.

  "Okay, but promise me that you won't interrupt me," she said. I nodded vigorously.

  Then she ran up to our apartment and came back with a ream of bond paper. Taking her place at the stool that we set up beforehand, she removed the top sheet and folded it painstakingly into an airplane. She sent it sailing over the tables.

  "That's it? Paper airplanes?" I gasped. I prayed that the critic had already gone home to write a nice quiet review of a nice quiet place where nobody flew paper airplanes over everyone's head. Was my glorious success coming to an end so soon? I stood rooted with horror to the spot until I heard Clarice whisper in my ear.

  "Look, Azra," she said.

  With the undivided attention of every patron in the place, Karmen made about fifteen of those airplanes and test-flew them. The people had their eyes glued to the ceiling in fascination.

  The fifteenth plane landed nose first in the Jogging Grandma's cup of Chocolate Dream Castle. She burst out laughing, and everyone burst out laughing.

  Someone called, "Hey, can I make one too?"

  Before I could stop her, Karmen was handing out papers and everyone was engrossed in the art of paper airplane-making. She even taught them how to fold and make their craft fly high. In no time, they came up with a competition for whose paper airplane flew the longest. I had to contribute the prize of ice cream sundae.

  It wasn't the entertainment I had in mind, but everyone seemed to be having a good time, and you can't argue with that. People were also ordering my desserts faster than ever.

  I didn't even know when Elise had arrived from work. She stood beside me as her eyes looked at Karmen across the room.

  "That silly girl," she said and then she smiled. "So cute."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The restaurant critic wrote about us in their magazine. The review was a rave! I had it framed on my wall, and I told everyone I wanted to be buried with it. It said the desserts were— "surprisingly delicious and creative," the decor— "charmingly welcoming," the service— "satisfactory," and the entertainment —"unparalleled in its energy which brought back childhood joy and pure comic appeal. Anyone who doesn't pay a visit for the mind-blowing sweets and the lovely fun-loving atmosphere is missing out."

  I was so pleased.

  Then Karmen and Elise went to the hospital to check on Celia and make sure she wouldn't see the review and freak out to death.

  I knew we were going to get a crowd the next few days based on this, but nothing could have prepared me for what showed up on Saturday. The Gourmet Week across the street was an off-night by comparison. I pressed Elise and Karmen into service, and they were glad to be part of the excitement.

  The weekend crowds were always larger, and the line formed almost immediately. We were running around like headless chicken.

  Celia's doctor said she could go home next weekend. I knew that the old woman was really concerned about the deli, which was no longer there in a sense. But she probably wouldn't have recognized her customers anymore. They were new and younger. Azra's Secrets' clients brought power ties and tattoos, and all shades of colors in between into our deli. We even hung a lovely pride flag at the front door.

  "Look how we improved!" Karmen said to me. "We did a 360 change for Celia's business!"

  "A 360 is a full circle," Elise said. "That would leave you facing the same way, dumbass."

  "I know your brain is precious, but please take care of your mouth too, or someone else will claim it," Karmen said.

  "What?" Elise scowled at her.

  "Go figure."

  Elise blushed and turned away. I bit my lips from smiling at these two. I seconded Ms. McHugh. They needed to kiss already.

  "Okay, girls, today we need to work harder," I said.

  From about five o'clock on, the line stretched from the doorway to the street and around the corner. We served mostly my desserts until the number was dropping, and Karmen and Elise made no attempt to hide their astonishment at this success. The cash register rang like church bells. We had to get another one to keep the money flowing with ease. I looked around myself and soaked up the satisfying feeling. This was the result of my unemployment period.

  Karmen was working for the deli again, which was okay. And even Elise came straight from her work to help ou
t almost every day. Even Elise earned a big salary, we were out-earning her from our tips alone. We were getting customers from as far away as DC. Azra's Secrets was the hottest place in town!

  Ms. McHugh, Karmen, Elise, and Clarice worked to maintain the orders of the customers. Boy, were we like a tag team! We were afraid to leave anyone waiting. I also had to work extra hard on my dessert's consistency. The worst mistake any restaurant could make is to deliver a mediocre dish. Consistency is the hook that brings people back, my mom always lectured me. Now it became my mantra.

  I let Karmen be in charge of the entertainment hour. She had switched from paper airplanes to origami workshop then to a bubble gum blowing contest, and now she turned to the art of tin cans stacking. She would stack each can on top of the others until it turned into a castle. Its tower reached so high that the crowd fell into a hushed expectant silence.

  We had to bring in the ladder so she could continue her masterpiece. Everyone held their breath watching it. Once the last tin can was successfully placed at the top, a roar of appreciation followed. Who knew Karmen's hidden talents were endless? She said she wasn't going for the world record.

  "But just in case I get it anyway, somebody better has a tape measure for the Guinness Book," she said, smiling.

  Elise was terrified as she painstakingly held the tape measure to the tower. She knew if she knocked it down by accident, she might receive rotten tomatoes from our patrons.

  "Nine feet tall!" Elise cried.

  Our hundred-plus customers stood up on their chairs and screamed. For a moment I thought the ceiling would come down. I looked around. There was dancing all the way to the street. It was like New Year's Eve. People were slapping each other on the back, and kissing. Clarice was dancing on the counter, and later I was locked in an ecstatic embrace with Karmen and Elise. It was the first time that we truly felt what this journey was supposed to be all about— three best friends taking on the world, and winning!