Charming for Mother's Day (A Calendar Girls Novella) (2 page)

~~~~

             
I couldn’t grasp the concept. I stared at Sidney, my mouth moving, but no words coming out. At last, I managed to force a few syllables past my thickening throat. “Sidney?”

             
“I’m retiring, Lucie,” he said, his tone gentle, as if he knew how fragile the news had made me. “It’s time. I’ll be in and out of here sporadically as Colin gets things set up in his own style, but by the end of the month, I’ll be gone for good.”

Deep down, I understood. Really, I did. And I didn’t blame Sidney for wanting out. Snug Harbor’s oldest and most popular seafood restaurant turned a great profit. But all that success required a lot of man hours, and at sixty-eight, its owner was ready to retire to his condo in Florida and become a snowbird. Still, I couldn’t help wondering: where did that leave me?
And Ariana?

Sidney
Soto, executive chef and soon-to-be-ex-owner of the Gull and Oar, was a doting grandpa to my baby girl and a second father to me. He’d been my hero on the worst night of my life. He was patient and fun with Ariana. From the time she was able to curl her fingers around objects, he taught her kitchen tricks. From mixing ingredients with a spoon, to peeling garlic cloves by shaking them in a covered container, to decorating the specials blackboard. He had even set up a small cot in his office where Ariana could sleep on those late nights when my mom couldn’t watch her and she had to stay in the restaurant ‘til closing. 

             
Say goodbye to all those perks. I might as well say goodbye to my job. Call it past experience, but somehow, I doubted Chef Colin would be as generous toward my needs as Chef Grandpa Sidney.
              As much as I understood Sidney’s longing to leave, I dreaded the consequences. Still, he clearly sensed my concerns. One comforting hand landed on my shoulder, and he leveled a steady gaze at me. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, Lucie. Colin has agreed to retain my current staff as part of his acquisition.”

             
I would rather eat live slugs than work with Colin, but I swallowed my resentment and forced a smile. “Well, great. That’s…great.” Gee, could I sound less enthused?

             
“For six months or so,” Colin added. “Just to make sure personalities mesh and the staff can meet my standards. After that…” He shrugged, hands splayed in surrender.

             
Yeah. I got it. In a nutshell, we all had six months to find other employment. Six months. At least with spring around the corner, most of the area restaurants would be looking for seasonal help soon. If I got lucky, I’d be able to get my degree before my job ended at the Gull and Oar, propelling me out of the restaurant business altogether. Provided, of course, I could find a job in my chosen field that would allow some flexibility to care for Ariana. With her dad gone, I was her only support system and one constant in life. And now I wouldn’t have Sidney to fall back on.

             
“Hey.”

             
I looked up as Maxie, one of the restaurant’s bartenders strolled in. She wore the traditional white shirt and black slacks of a server, but on her blowsy figure, the uniform fit like puckered skin.

             
“What’s up?” she asked.

             
I didn’t want to relive the details of Colin’s takeover and the awkward introductions, so I grabbed Ariana’s hand. “Come on, doodle,” I said with a brightness that made my head ache. “Why don’t you come help me write the specials on the blackboard?”

             
“Okay.”

             
Once we left the kitchen, my head quieted. Funny, I hadn’t noticed the buzzing until it disappeared. I found breathing easier, too. Go figure.

Ariana
skipped to the maître d’ station and pulled out the bucket of colored chalk while I placed the blackboard on the nearest booth’s table. Removing the chef’s hat, Ariana climbed onto the cushioned bench. With the bucket at hand, she read the listed specials from the index card Sidney had left us. “What’s tie-ray-do dee ma-hi ma-hi?”

             
“Tirado de mahi mahi,” I corrected. “It’s a type of grilled fish, topped with avocado and mango.”

             
“Good.” Ariana nodded. “So I can draw Sebastian and Flounder from
The Little Mermaid.
”

             
I smiled. Always Disney. My kid was a Disney fanatic, which meant the restaurant’s specials board was always decorated with Disney characters. “Any particular reason you opted for that movie today?” I really didn’t expect her to have any other answer but childish whimsy.

             
“Uh-huh.” She picked up the yellow chalk and began sketching. “I think Chef Colin looks like Prince Eric.”

             
Great. Just what Colin’s ginormous ego didn’t need—hero worship from a second generation Rosado. I hated to dash my daughter’s romantic fantasies, but Colin was no loving prince. I bit my tongue and came up with something a little less prejudicial. “I don’t think you should call him Chef Colin, doodle.”

             
“What should I call him?”

             
“How about Mr. Murriere?” I suggested.

             
“Chef Colin is fine, actually.”

              I didn’t have to turn around to know he’d sneaked up behind me and opted to correct my admonition. Even before he spoke, a hum had filled the air and, for once, the vibrations didn’t come from the building’s ancient heating system.

             
“Feel free to call me ‘Chef Colin,’ sweetheart,” he told my daughter. “After all, if you’re going to be my new apprentice sous chef, I want us to be on good terms.”

             
I could have continued the argument, but I sensed Ariana’s keen interest, and I backed down with grace. She already wondered why I’d never mentioned my connection to Colin while we’d watched him compete on television. I didn’t need her questioning my open animosity toward him, as well. I nodded and refocused my attention on my little girl. “Hey,” I said, pointing to her blue and yellow striped fish. “That looks great.”

             
And it did. Like her father, Ariana had a talent for art. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stay inside the lines in a child’s coloring book.

             
“We don’t have red chalk,” she replied. “For Sebastian.”

             
“Can you use pink?”

             
She looked up at me as if I’d suggested drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa. “No. That would be horrible!”

             
Yeah, I kinda figured. “I know,” I said after a minute of quick thought. “Instead of focusing on just
The Little Mermaid
, why not draw characters from other Disney sea movies, as well. You could draw Nemo or Dory, the oysters from
Alice in Wonderland
—even Cleo from
Pinocchio
.”

             
She glanced down at the blackboard, then up at me again. “Maybe,” she replied with a doubtful lilt.

             
“Or,” Colin cut in, “maybe, instead of mermaid stuff, you could add ‘Be Our Guest’ across the top, then draw Lumiere, the candlestick, and Chip, the teacup.”

             
Ariana’s smile flashed like lightning, illuminating her face and the room. “Yes! I can do that. And maybe the Mad Hatter from
Alice in Wonderland
, too.”

             
Before I could add any additional comment, she picked up the yellow chalk and eagerly began outlining the curvature of
Beauty and the Beast
’s talking candelabra, using her chef’s hat as a reference.

             
“Now that Ariana’s got her direction, come sit with me.” Colin jerked his head toward the bar with its gleaming wood-grain top, created from a massive tree uprooted during the infamous Long Island Express: the hurricane of 1938. “Let’s talk.”

             
I stood near the maître d’ station, planted deeper than those old elms, hands on my hips. “Why?”

             
“I want to share some of my ideas for this place.”

             
“With me?”

             
He arched a black-winged brow. “You’re the maître d’, aren’t you? Who knows the staff and clientele better?”

             
No one. Stiffening my spine, I followed him. Maxie already stood behind the bar, setting up for tonight’s drink specials.

             
Colin kicked out a stool and patted the burgundy leather cushion. “Sit.”

             
I sat. Leaning an elbow on the bar, I plucked a maraschino cherry from Maxie’s tray.

             
“All you girly-girls are the same,” she remarked as her knife created wedges out of whole limes. “You always go for the cherries.”

             
“That’s ‘cuz we’re so sweet,” I replied with an exaggerated smirk.

             
“And here I thought it was because you’re always floating in alcohol,” she quipped.

             
Our boisterous laughter echoed through the empty restaurant, not because we both found the joke uproarious, but because our nerves had taken control. This was our new boss, sitting with us. Who knew how he’d really decide our fate? Though I held no illusions
I’d
still be employed here much longer. The sooner I got out of here, the better for my sanity.

             
“Okay, ladies,” our subject of concern announced as he took the stool beside mine. “Let’s focus, shall we? What can you tell me about this place?”
              Maxie’s lips tightened into an indefinable line. Loyalty ran rampant at the G & O.

             
“Shouldn’t you have this discussion with Chef Sidney?” I asked.

             
“I already have. He said I should talk to you. With most of his time spent in the kitchen, he can’t tell me everything I want to know. You two are in the front of the house on the busiest nights. You see things, hear things the rest of the staff probably doesn’t. So…” He leaned toward me, that indulgent smile on his face again—like we were girlfriends at a slumber party. “Tell me. What do you hear?”

             
No matter how much charm he oozed, I refused to play confidante with him. “When exactly do you plan to institute any changes?”

             
“Depends on how much work I have to do. I’m already revamping the menu. I’d like to hear what you’d change if you could.”

             
With a careless shrug, I replied, “Where should we start?”

             
“Whatever you think needs the most attention. Don’t worry about cost. That’s my problem. Tell me about any issues with appliances, plumbing or electrical, the ambiance, the furniture. Anything and everything. I want to revamp this place and make it more welcoming. Your advice and help will go a long way to making the Gull and Oar’s grand reopening the talk of the season on Long Island’s East End.”

             
Maxie and I exchanged dubious looks.

             
“More diners translates to more money in your pockets, too,” he advised.

             
My mama would say, “This is how Eve got in trouble with the serpent.”

Serpent,
shmerpent. I had bills to pay. “The pads in the booths are thin and worn out,” I said in some bizarre cloak-and-dagger whisper.

             
“Especially for some of the skinny Manhattanites we get in here,” Maxie added.

             
I probably should have warned her that Colin’s mother was one of those skinny Manhattanites, but the last hour or so had stacked up the surprises against me.

             
As if to emphasize her point, Maxie twirled and patted her ample fanny, which she’d poured into slacks that were probably two sizes too small. “No meat on their rumps.”

             
To Colin’s credit, he didn’t react to Maxie’s eighteen-wheeler art of flirtation. Instead, he pulled a spiral memo pad and pen from his chef jacket pocket and flipped to a blank page. “Okay.” He jotted down notes. “New upholstery. What else?”

             
“Lighting.” Maxie gestured with a wide arm sweep. “It’s too dark in here. Dark wood, stained glass lamps, shutters instead of blinds on the windows.  We’ve added battery-operated candles on each table, but it’s still tough to read the menus.”

             
“Lighting. Got it. What else?” He looked up from his memo pad. “Lucie? What are the slowest moving dishes? Start with appetizers and rattle off the list.”

             
Yeah, right. Because I was totally prepared for today’s ambush. I barely kept my computer programs for engineering class straight, and he wanted to discuss the least popular meals on Sidney’s menu? I couldn’t even remember what was
on
the menu. I jerked my head at Maxie. “Got a menu back there?”