Callie
When I get to work, I spot Lou out front pouring coffee. He's usually back in his office this time of the morning because ten to eleven is always our slow time, but today the place is busier than normal. The summer vacationers must be arriving early this year. Usually they don't show up until June.
I wash my hands and tie on my apron and get to work, making the desserts. That's my job. Making desserts for the lunch crowd and whoever wants to come in and buy desserts to go. Lou makes all the breakfast pastries. He gets here at three every morning to get started. We open at six, and Deloris, an older woman who lives on the other side of town, waits tables out front.
"Did you see the list?" Lou asks as he walks in the kitchen. He's a roly-poly man with short legs, but he moves lightning fast, back and forth through the kitchen with such speed that sometimes I don't even notice him go by. Before I worked here, I used to come in to buy pastries and didn't think he was very friendly. But I've since discovered he's just a little rough around the edges. Once you get to know him, you find out he's actually a big softie. But very few people get to know him. He keeps his private life private, much like me. That's probably why we get along so well.
"I didn't see it yet," I say, "but I assume it's the same as always?"
"No. I'm mixing up the menu for summer." He picks up a sheet of paper from the counter and brings it over to me. "We're adding lemon meringue and raspberry to the list of pies and I'm trying a cranberry oatmeal cookie. For some reason, people want dried cranberries in everything. I added it to the chicken salad yesterday and we sold out by noon." He shakes his head. "I don't get it. Anyway, get to work." He shoves the to-do list at me. I take it but notice him staring at me.
"What?" I ask. "Was there something else?"
"There's something different about you today." He points his chubby finger at me. "You got a boyfriend?"
I laugh. "A boyfriend? I don't even date, so how could I have a boyfriend?"
He squints his eyes, his chubby fingers now rubbing his chin. "There's something going on with you. Something's different."
"Oh, yeah, actually there is. I hurt my knee earlier so I'm going to have to sit down for most of my shift. But I can work sitting down."
"What happened to your knee?" he asks, concern on his face. That's his soft side coming out. He worries about me. My health. My safety. He thinks it's his job to look out for me since I don't have any family left. It's sweet of him to be that way, but I don't need anyone looking out for me. I get along fine on my own.
"I tripped on the sidewalk in front of my house," I tell him.
"I told you to get that fixed," he scolds. Lou never had kids but sometimes he goes into Dad mode, lecturing me on things he thinks I need to do, like fix the sidewalk.
"Yeah, I will." I slide the stool over to the counter. "I just haven't gotten around to it."
"And look what happened? You busted up your knee."
"That wasn't why I fell. I fell because this guy's truck backfired and it startled me. I thought..." I laugh because now it's funny. "I thought he shot at me."
"What guy?"
"Some guy who's fixing up Old Man Freeson's house."
"You can't fix that thing. That house needs to be torn down."
"I told him that, but he's convinced he can save it."
"He could make a lot of money if he sold it. Freeson's house sits on a half acre."
"He's selling it when he's done fixing it up." I slide the flour container over and dust my work surface. I always roll out the cookies first. Lou makes the dough and chills it so it's ready when I get here. He also makes the dough for the pie crusts because he doesn't trust anyone else to do it.
"Whoever buys it will just tear it down and build something new," he says.
"I know, but whatever. I can't tell him what to do." I found that out this morning. Nash is someone who takes charge and does what he wants. I tell him not to do something, he does it anyway. It's annoying.
My stupid knee is throbbing but I need the rest of my supplies so I get up and limp to the drawer that has the ice cream scoops I use for the dough. I only need one but I always get two. Even numbers make me feel more at ease. Odd numbers make me nervous.
As I'm going to get the cookie sheets, Lou stops me. "Let me get the rest. You're too slow." He acts annoyed, which is what he does when he's trying to hide his concern for me. He either acts angry or annoyed. I learned this after months of working with him.
I also learned it's easier to go along with him rather than fight with him, so I go back to my stool and sit down while he gathers my supplies.
"I'm sure my knee will be better by tomorrow," I say.
"You need to fix that walkway. No more waiting." He shakes his finger at me, then goes to get the pie fillings.