Page 28 of Finding Yesterday
I decide to stay in the kitchen, looking around to familiarize myself with everything. I set down the manual Jack gave me and pick up the book of recipes. Turning to the side dishes, I study them. I need to prepare each as they are for a while before making any changes.
Pops comes behind me, and I jump. I recover quickly, managing a smile and quick, “Hello,” before taking the book of recipes and feigning interest in it.
He steps in front of me. “So, you actually came to work here, huh?” He squints at me, his glasses on his head. “Had nowhere else to go?”
I lift my chin and huff, “Jack made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“That’s nice.” He folds his arms. “But when I’m here, it’s my way or the highway.”
I smirk. “You’re so pleasant.” No wonder Daddy didn’t want to stay in touch with Max after Mama and Hannah died.
Jack saunters through the kitchen doors and approaches us. “Hey, Claire, welcome to the team.”
“Thank you.” I point to the manual on the counter. “I was going to start by reading this. Then I was going to go through the side dishes and practice them.”
“Sure, great,” Jack says.
Pops scowls, waggling a finger. “You need a lesson on how to cook the steaks. You work at a steakhouse.”
“Pops,” Jack begins, but I shake my head.
“A lesson is fine,” I say, but my stomach lurches. How will I do that without tasting the meat? Regardless, I’ll do the lesson—and not just to make Pops happy. “It’s good for me to know in case of an emergency.”
“You can shadow me today,” Jack continues. His phone buzzes, and he takes it out. “It’s my manager in San Francisco. There’s a problem. I’ve gotta give Vic a call.” He turns and asks, “Pops, can you show Claire the ropes?”
When Pops gives him a thumbs-up, Jack rushes out the back door.
Pops steps over to me, sliding his glasses from his head before setting them on the tip of his nose. “You aren’t gonna make anything today.”
“Okay, sure, I’ll just head to the office and study—”
“You can start by doing the side work.” He peers at me over the rims of his spectacles. “The table-cloths need pressing, the glasses and silverware need checking for spots, the grease traps need cleaning.” He looks around. “Oh, and the napkins need folding and put in the glasses. Make ’em look like a nice fan.”
My stomach tumbles. “Wait. How am I going to learn to cook the side dishes if I’m doing all that?”
“You’re not,” he replies, flipping a dishcloth over his shoulder. “Today, you’re starting with the basics.”
I point to the door Jack just walked out of. “Well, yes, but—”
“No buts. You already know how to cook and manage. Now you’re going to learn how to manage atop-ratedplace. This restaurant’s not like your hippie joint. Here, we have to take care of all the fine details. When you get that down, I’ll show you how to scrub the pans.”
The pans? Yikes! Pops may have a point—I haven’t worked at a restaurant this high-end before—but sweat is beading on my brow, and it’s not even hot in this kitchen yet. And grease means bacon fat, something I haven’t had to deal with for a long time. My stomach does another flip.
When Jack comes back inside, I let out a whoosh of air. Thank heavens he’s the one in charge and not Pops.
Jack scrubs his goatee. “I’m so sorry to do this to you guys, but I have to go back to San Francisco for a week.”
“What?” I squeak, my breath hitching. “I mean…why?”
“We’re having an issue with the property line of our restaurant, and we have to get a survey done immediately then consult with our legal team.” Jack looks around. “You guys think you can manage here?”
Pops scowls. “Well, a’ course we can. I was running a restaurant before you knew how to peepee in a potty.”
“Right, very true, Pops.” Jack nods. “All right then. I’ll see you guys next week.”
“Bye,” I manage to say. I feel like I’m stuck in a desert, and Jack was the only glass of water, vanishing into thin air.
As soon as Jack is out the door, I look back at Pops, waiting for my sentence.
