"But I'm not that familiar with the menu yet."
"Get familiar," Aunt Zipporah said. "Quickly."
Quickly? It was like being tossed into the water and told to learn to swim. I had never been a waitress before: I'd only bussed tables and helped at the counter.
"But--"
"Go on," she said, gesturing at the tables and customers.
She laughed. Uncle Tyler smiled at me and waved, but kept working. I grabbed a pad and went to the tables where the customers were holding the menus but obviously had not yet ordered. Before long, I was too busy to even wonder if anyone had noticed my inexperience and my pronounced limp. All these people really cared about was getting their food.
"See?" Aunt Zipporah said as I rushed back and forth with the other two, delivering the orders and helping our expediter serve the finished platters. "You're too busy here to have time to feel sorry for yourself."
She was right, of course. This early rush hour dinner left little time for anything but the work, and I did learn the menu rather quickly on the spot. Only a couple of customers even noticed how fresh on the job I was, or at least, that was what I thought. Missy appreciated my coming to her rescue and helped me along, too. The other waitress, a tall, strong-looking, short-haired blond girl with a take-no-prisoners expression on her face, barely paid me any attention and didn't introduce herself to me until a small lull in the action. Her name was Cassie Bernard, and she was a junior at the college.
"She's good," Aunt Zipporah whispered. "If people were patient, she could handle this entire cafe."
Missy's flighty, helpless look was a great contrast to Cassie's efficient and confident demeanor. I wondered whom I would look more like to the customers. During the dinner rush, I noticed that although Missy wasn't as good a waitress, the customers took more to her, however, maybe because they felt sorry for her or maybe because she was open enough for them to tease. The cynic in me wondered if some of it wasn't just an act on her part to win their sympathy and get away with some inefficiency.
Whatever it was, whatever anyone's real story here was, I realized there was enough human drama and activity to draw me away from thinking too much about myself, my grandparents and the world of tragedy I had just left. I felt like a little fish that had been alone in an aquarium, exposed to everyone's view, then was suddenly tossed into the ocean with schools of other fish, becoming too small and insignificant to even draw a passing glance. For that, I was truly grateful. If there was one thing I wasn't looking for, it was attention.
When the rush finally ended and the cafe thinned out, all the introductions were completed. Mrs. Mallen wanted to give me a welcome hug, but she just touched my shoulders and smiled. Uncle Tyler kissed and hugged me. I glanced at Aunt Zipporah. She hadn't yet told him about my request to come live with them and attend high school here. Despite what she had said about it and what I knew about Uncle Tyler, I was still nervously anticipating his reaction. The last thing I wanted to do was become the cause of anyone else's tension and unhappiness.
With the lull in business, we were able to eat a little dinner ourselves. Working this hard had taken away most of my appetite, but I especially loved Uncle Tyler's meat loaf, and it was still his signature dish. I sat at the rear of the new section in the restaurant to eat and talk with Uncle Tyler. He was very concerned about me and my reactions to the accident and Craig's death.
"It's not something you can ever get over or maybe should ever get over, but it's like most disappointments and hardships in our lives, something we have to learn how to live with, embrace. Yes," he said, nodding at my surprised expression. "We even have to embrace our unhappiness. It's part of the overall."
"Preaching your Far Eastern thinking again?" Aunt Zipporah asked him as she pulled up a chair with her platter of food.
"Preaching? Was I preaching, Alice?"
We all laughed. I looked at Aunt Zipporah. She knew why I had this look of expectation written across my face.
"Tyler, Alice asked me if she could do something. I told her how I felt about it, but she won't be comfortable about it until she hears your response directly from you."
"Oh? Okay. You can pierce your ears but not your nose," he said. I smiled, but he saw from both Aunt Zipporah's controlled reaction and my subdued one to his joke that this was far more intense. "What is it, Alice? What do you want'?"
"I'd like to finish my high school education here, attend school here for my senior year."
He glanced at Aunt Zipporah and then turned back to me.
"You mean, you want to live here with us?" "Yes," I said.
"What do your grandparents say about that?"
"They're not dancing in the streets, but they understand, I think."
"Zipporah?" he asked her.
"She's right. I couldn't have put it any better," she added, smiling at me.
"So you want to know if I mind?" He sat back, the fingers of his right hand grasping his chin. He squeezed and massaged and looked like he was in very deep thought. I knew he was putting on an act.
"A wise man once told me home is the place where when you go there, they have to take you in. S000000 . . . welcome home, Alice," he said and slapped the table. "Free help forever!" he cried, laughing. "Sure, move in. I need someone who appreciates my jokes." He rose and kissed me on the cheek. "Whatever makes you happy, makes us happy, Alice. It's not a problem. Besides, Zipporah needs the practice. We're getting closer and closer to having our own child, right, Zipporah?"
"Closer," she said without fully committing. I wondered in what bed of doubt and insecurity her reluctance to have children lay. I couldn't help but puzzle over what she knew that I didn't and if it would lead me to be just as reluctant as she was.
"See?" Uncle Tyler said. "See why I need help?" He patted me on the shoulder and returned to the kitchen.