by C.J Duggan
***
Chris pushed through the swinging kitchen door, spiking a lunch order docket for the Onslow Boys, something I silently resented; it was, after all, my job. Maybe he didn't like the nut comment?
Geez, what a square.
Even though it killed me, I decided to let Ellie take the meals out to them, so she could reacquaint herself with Stan. After how she behaved last night, I didn't know how the others would respond to her. They seemed pretty loyal guys. I could only hope that if Stan was alright with her, then they'd respect his wishes and take their cue from him.
And that's exactly what they did. Ellie picked up and was back to her normal self by the end of the shift. I bet guys our age wouldn't have been as mature about it.
We were on the homeward stretch when we heard the creaking of the staircase that led down to the main reception area of the restaurant. A rather seedy, sorry-looking Adam shuffled down the stairs, hair all messy, sleep still in his eyes.
"Where am I?" he croaked.
"You're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, that's for sure." Ellie looked him over with a bemused frown.
He clasped his head in his hands. "Why are you shouting?"
"What on earth did you do last night after I left?" I asked.
"Lock-in," Adam groaned.
Ellie and I looked at each other in surprise. "You mean Chris let you stay?"
"Don't sound so surprised," he snapped at me.
But I was surprised. Chris wouldn't let me and Ellie in a lock-in and Adam was Chris's younger, grounded, naughtier brother. He was always extra hard on him. The whole thing made no sense.
"He got me to take over the bar for a bit." Adam gingerly pulled out a chair and pressed his forehead to the tabletop.
Now this made even less sense.
"He left you in charge?" I asked, my disbelief pouring off me.
"Yes! God, is there an echo in here, or something?"
"Why would he do that?" Ellie asked.
He looked up at us as if we were deluded, and then it was like a light bulb went off in his mind - a low, painful, groggy light bulb.
"Oh, that's right, you weren't there." He buried his face in his hands and attempted to wipe the sleep from his eyes.
"Weren't there for what?" I pressed.
He lifted his head out of his hands and a huge, cheeky smile broadened across his face.
"When Angela Vickers puked all over the bar."
Whaaaaaaat?
Gold! The stuff to tell your grandchildren. Adam relayed how Angela Vickers had been dancing drunk on top of the bar. Chris had been yelling at her to get down but she just ignored him, so when he yanked her down to kick her out, she spewed all over the bar, the floor and herself.
Awesome!
Chris ended up taking her home because everyone else had been drinking. And that's when Adam stepped up to the plate. A win-win situation for all, apart from Angela. So sad!
The boys finished their counter meals and waited around until Ellie and I knocked off. Even though I was surviving on little-to-no sleep, I had never felt so alive. I washed dishes with great enthusiasm, polished silverware like a thing possessed. I noticed the same eagerness in Ellie. We both had a core focus: get the work done and start living again (between the hours of two and six).
The only person who didn't seem to be so in love with the world was Adam. He glared at us from across the room every time we made so much as a clinking noise with the cutlery.
Every time the kitchen door was pushed open, and we brought food out, he turned a deeper shade of green until he couldn't take it anymore and quickly disappeared, clawing his way pitifully back up the stairs. We didn't see him for the rest of the shift. Some catch up.
At shift's end, Ellie and I darted behind the door where we kept our bags in the restaurant section of the bar. We didn't need to talk; there was a humming undercurrent of excitement running through each of us at hearing the jukebox in the poolroom and that familiar laughter. We took turns in fixing our hair in front of the small mirror, crudely nailed to the wall. We sprayed some Illusion Impulse body spray to mask the eau de Windex and sweaty kitchen hands that we currently smelled like. We topped up our lips with strawberry Lip Smacker. I could tell Ellie was a bit apprehensive. Stan and the boys were being pleasant enough to her, which helped, but she was still embarrassed. This made me strangely happy. It was like this new Ellie, with a conscience. I liked it. Maybe Stan was rubbing off on her.
"Okay, I'm going in." Ellie breathed deeply. "Wish me luck."
"You don't need any luck." My words came out funny through my stretched lips as I applied the sweet lip balm.
I spun around but she was gone.
I had a sudden thought and delved my hands frantically into the pocket of my soiled apron, which I had hung behind the door. I sighed with relief as some small objects made chinking sounds as my fingers brushed them. My rings. I had almost forgotten to put them back on after dish duty. As I placed the gold circles back onto my fingers I heard the unmistakable blast and hiss of the steam from the coffee machine, followed by a crude coughing fit. I peeked around the door to see Uncle Eric brewing probably his ninth cup of coffee for the day.
"Ah, young Tess, just the person I was looking for!" He poured the frothy milk into his mug. "Would you like one?"
Had he just coughed all over the mugs and coffee machine? I decided to pass, and made a mental note to Spray and Wipe the coffee machine tonight.
"No thanks," I said.
"Well, come join me in the beer garden for a bit, I want to have a quick chat."
Uh oh.
