Life of the Party (19 page)

“What? Oh shit,
that’s right. Grey’s covering for Riley now.” I groaned. “I totally
forgot.”

“I know it
sucks, Mac. Just ignore him. Just do your job and ignore him,
okay?” Charlie looked towards the entrance at an incoming couple.
“You can start now. Go seat that table.” She handed me two menus
and gave me a reassuring pat. “We’ll get through this Mac. Just
ignore him.”

This turned out
to be easier than I expected. By the time I returned from seating
that table, another four had taken their place at the entry.
Charlie and I were slammed within minutes, in half an hour every
seat was full and a line up had begun at the door. This was
unexpected for a Monday night, and we were nearly run off our feet.
Luckily, I was kept busy enough that I couldn’t worry about Grey
except when I needed an order.

We didn’t say
one word to each other, he kept his head down most of the time
anyway—the kitchen staff were just as hard pressed to keep up with
the rush as we were. Dishes piled up in the pit, the salad
dressings were out, and we ran out of soup before seven o’clock.
Orders kept coming in; there were tables to wipe, coffees to
refill, plates to clear. We could barely hear ourselves over the
general restaurant din and the clamour of the busy kitchen.

This was when I
first met Ralph. I was in the waitress station, filling up Pepsi’s
and getting a piece of pie out of the fridge at the same time.
Multitasking was a necessity. The door from the kitchen opened just
as I was shutting the fridge with my foot, and a tall, heavy,
middle-aged man emerged. He was balding, with thin red hair. His
face held deep wrinkles, but his thick lips revealed perfect white
teeth. He wore a collared shirt and dress pants and smelled like
expensive aftershave.

I looked up at
him curiously. “Hello.”

“Hello.” He
greeted politely, but his eyes worked me over, from the top of my
head down to the toes of my shoes, then up again. His eyebrows
rose. I wondered what that meant, but was too busy to really care.
I squeezed some whipped cream onto the pie and placed a fork on its
dish.

“You must be
Mackenzie.” He was staring at me.

“Yes.” I was
trying to be polite, but had many things on my mind. I couldn’t
remember if I had gotten table thirteen ketchup or not. I grabbed a
bottle anyway, just in case.

“Ralph.” He
introduced, holding out his hand. I looked up at him in surprise,
barely remembering in time that this man was my boss.

“Oh, hi.” I
floundered. I set down the ketchup so I could shake his hand. “I’m
sorry; we’ve just been really busy. I didn’t realize ….”

“Oh, no. No
trouble. Just thought I’d introduce myself.” He shook his head in
approval and smiled. “That Mark, he sure can pick ‘em.”

“Uh … thanks
….” I smiled again impatiently, not really paying attention. I had
to get going. I grabbed the ketchup bottle again.

“We’ll talk
later. I’ll be here doing some interviews to replace Riley. Let me
know if you need any help.” Ralph offered. I nodded in thanks and
then whizzed by him, my mind already focused on the path I would
take through the restaurant to make the most effective use of my
time. A rule in waitressing was never to walk anywhere with empty
hands. There was always something to grab and take or clean and I
busied myself with exactly that. By the time I returned to the
waitress area, Ralph was gone.

The rush didn’t
last all night, but it remained steady. We spent the rest of the
evening just trying to get caught up. Charlie and I each took a
turn in the bathroom with her little silver vial as well, a little
pick me up to help us keep going.

It was at about
nine o’clock, an hour from close, when a table of ten came in
without a reservation. Charlie and I grumbled as we pushed tables
together for them. There was nothing worse than a big table so
close to closing after such a busy night. I made Charlie break the
news to the kitchen. I wasn’t in the mood to get sworn at.

To make matters
worse, I had to wait on the table, and all of them were guys from
my school. The majority of them were from my grade. There was
nothing more awkward than waiting on people I barely knew but who
still would recognize me. I handed them menus and we exchanged some
polite hellos.

They were
cowboys. All of them. I knew without even looking that our parking
lot would be full of their diesel trucks, large and loud with some
kind of ATV strapped in the box and mud splattered along the sides.
Typical boys raised on a farm, heading to local colleges that
offered courses in agriculture and livestock breeding. The talk
around the table consisted of various ranch-hand work stories and
rodeo cabarets. I rolled my eyes and kept my mouth shut, refilling
their Pepsi’s with regularity and serving them all the same large,
greasy plates of hamburgers and French fries.

When they were
finally done, I placed the black check holder in the middle of
their table.

“Thanks guys.”
I said generically. One of the boys, his name was Brad, looked up
at me and smiled.

“Uh, we didn’t
order that.” He quipped, pointing at the check. I could tell he
thought he was clever.

“Oh, well, it
comes free with every meal.” I smiled sweetly at him. His friends
around the table cracked up at my little joke. Brad smiled in
surprise and chuckled—he was still grinning at me as I left the
table, trouncing over to shut the open sign off. The one and only
plus to waiting on a big group was the chance of a big tip, but I
wasn’t going to get my hopes up. These were high school boys, after
all.

Brad personally
brought me the check holder when they were ready to go. It was
stuffed with bills, but I figured it was rude to count the money
right there in front of him. I shoved the folder into the front
pocket of my apron.

“Thanks.”

“You’re
welcome.” Brad smiled. He looked over me, and his face was soft …
admiring, almost. “So, tell me Mackenzie, why don’t we hang out
more?” He broached.

I laughed at
him. “… Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh ….” I
cleared my throat, trying to be polite. “Uh … I guess it’s just
because we … hang in different crowds.” I shrugged.

“Well, I think
we should rectify the situation. Don’t you?” He asked.

“I don’t know.
I don’t really see how. Unless maybe … you start growing weed in
your fields or something.” I smiled at my ridiculous
suggestion.

Brad leaned a
hand against the wall, grinning widely at me. “See. Right there.
You have the most adorable smile. Did you know that?”

I felt my
cheeks warm. “Oh, you’re just saying that.”

“I am?” He
chuckled. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”
I shook my head. “Maybe you’re still in awe of my amazing service
or something.”

“Trust me,
Mackenzie,” Brad leaned towards me then, his voice dropping
seriously. “The service wasn’t that good.”

I laughed. I
couldn’t help it. I laughed and laughed, looking up at him in
amazement, startled that he had an actually personality. It was a
pleasant surprise. He laughed with me, and as he did his odd, amber
coloured eyes twinkled handsomely. His wide smile was becoming in
his face.

“Uh, thanks … I
guess ….” I giggled.

“There it is
again. That smile.” Brad sighed. He glanced back at his friends
waiting impatiently by the front door. “I should go. But you and
me, we’ll hang out soon, okay?”

“Um ….” I bit
my lip, not sure what to say.

“Don’t think
about it. Just say yes.”

“… Okay. Yes.”
I nodded, and found myself smiling at him.

His answering
grin flashed charmingly across his face, and I watched him go,
amazed. What was happening to me? Was I really desperate enough for
a friend that I’d consider fraternizing with a cowboy? I shook my
head as I rang up the bill, but I couldn’t keep the smile from my
face. Maybe I was going crazy or something, but it seemed like
there was more to Brad than just wrangler jeans and roper boots. I
watched the lights of his truck as he pulled out of the parking lot
and felt an odd, inexplicable surge of hope.

Charlie met me
in the waitress area afterwards, her tray full of dirty dishes, and
handed me a crisp, green twenty-dollar bill.

“Your tip.” She
smiled in disbelief. “Man, what did you do for those guys, a lap
dance or something?”

“Something like
that.” I joked in amazement. But I honestly had no idea. Maybe my
service hadn’t been as bad as Brad said it was … maybe my sudden
wit had won him over … or maybe, he just liked me. I took the bill
and stuffed it into my tip cup, which was almost overflowing from
the busy evening. I stared at the heap of change, trying to
approximate its worth. There must have been at least fifty-dollars
in it before the twenty-dollar tip, which was exciting—a nice,
unexpected bonus.

“Good night?”
Ralph appeared then again from the kitchen, the door swinging shut
behind him. He smiled nicely at me. “Looks like it.” He pointed at
my tip cup.

“Yeah. I hope
so.” I nodded. “It was busy enough.”

“You girls did
great.”

“Thanks.” I
smiled at him again, but felt uncomfortable just standing there. He
was my boss after all—I was sure he wouldn’t like me to be idle. I
picked up a cloth and spray bottle and started wiping down the
counters. He leaned against the station and watched me as I worked.
The longer he stood there the more whiskey I could smell, it
overpowered even his nice cologne. I wondered how long he’d been
drinking in the back.

“How’d your
interviews go?” I asked politely, more to fill the awkward silence
than to satisfy my curiosity. I didn’t like thinking about Riley
being replaced.

“Good enough, I
suppose.” Ralph sighed. “All in a days work.”

“That’s
good.”

“Yep.” He
pushed away from the counter and took a few casual steps towards
me. I moved to the opposite side of the station to get out of his
way, repositioning against the counter by the order window. The
kitchen staff was busy in the back. I could see through the narrow
slit that the rush had put them behind as well, normally they would
be out front already, smoking and drinking coffee. Grey was at the
line on just the other side of the window—horribly close to me—I
could hear his hands as he worked on cleaning the steam table. I
could see the back of his neck as he bent over his work. I tried
not to stare; I didn’t want him to catch me. It’d be so much easier
if I could just ignore him.

I busied myself
with organizing the countertops, stacking up the soup bowls and
putting the coffee cups away. Ralph was still present in the
station; he stood by the fridge now but continued to watch me. It
was becoming fairly uncomfortable, I couldn’t tell if he was there
for a reason or just drunk and oblivious to the awkwardness. I
hoped he wasn’t critiquing my cleaning skills; I was in a rush to
get it done so I could leave for the night.

“You liking it
here so far?” Ralph asked suddenly. He staggered forwards and met
me at the counter, his belly pushed up against my side. Startled, I
looked up at him. His face was disturbingly close. He smiled down
at me and the whiskey on his breath was strong, sour. I moved
discreetly away from him so that our bodies weren’t touching
anymore.

“Yeah. It’s
been great.” I spoke with false enthusiasm. This was getting weird.
Where the hell was Charlie? I refilled the coffee container, moving
just a little bit further away from Ralph as I did so.

“All the staff
around here are real friendly.” Ralph smiled crookedly at me, and
as he spoke I noticed he moved closer. His voice lowered until he
was nearly whispering in my ear. He lifted his arm and reached
around my back, resting his hand on the side of my rib cage. The
moment I felt the hot contact of his hand, I froze, my hands hung
in the air mid-motion. His touch was heavy on my side, his thick
fingers sticking to my shirt. I kept my eyes down, staring blankly
at the countertop, not daring to move. This man was my boss. What
did he want?

“You let me
know if anyone gives you any trouble.” His breath was hot against
my neck. I shuddered involuntarily. His hand moved from my ribs,
sliding slowly down my waist until it rested on my hip. I didn’t
know what to do. I stood there, hoping he would be done soon,
thinking that if I ignored him long enough someone would eventually
distract him. I hoped he’d take my unresponsiveness as
rejection.

But my
disinterest didn’t seem to matter. With a chuckle, he swept his
hand further down and his palm cupped my butt in a playful slap. I
jerked at the touch, a surprised gasp escaped my lips and my eyes
whipped upwards in shock. I found myself staring directly at Grey,
his face before me on the other side of the window. He must have
been watching—his expression was hard, his jaw was clenched, his
lips tight. His eyes swept over my face. His gaze was full of anger
as it settled on Ralph’s drunken leer.

“Ralph.” Grey
warned. His voice was low and threatening.

“Oh, hey Grey.”
Ralph smiled innocently at his employee, completely casual, as if
he hadn’t just slapped my ass. My face burned red with discomfit.
Ralph chuckled and began to whistle, stumbling past me on his way
to the front. I let out a shaky sigh of relief once the heavy man
was out of my space.

Grey was
looking at me now. Hesitantly I lifted my eyes to him. I didn’t
know what to expect, how I should feel, how I should act. His blue
eyes were beautiful, but his expression was impossible to read. A
frown curved his lips.

“You okay?” He
spoke like he regretted having to ask the question. I couldn’t
answer him with my voice, I nodded my head instead.

“Okay.” He bent
back down over his work, as if the whole ugly scene hadn’t just
taken place. That was it then, I guessed. I was still a little
shaken, so I hid out in the waitress station until Charlie joined
me. I told her the whole story, speaking in a hushed voice so that
Ralph couldn’t hear me from the tables out front. She sympathized
with me, rolling her eyes and regaling me with her own tale of
sexual inappropriateness at the thick hands of Ralph the boss. This
definitely was not the first occurrence of such lewd behaviour.