“What’s up, chief?” I asked, trying to hold on to the light, cheerful, cherry cheesecake feeling I’d had.
“The thing is, I know I talked to you a couple years ago about selling the place when I’m ready to retire.”
“Yes,” I replied. He’s changed his mind and wants to work until he dies and then leave the diner to some shiftless nephew. I know it. I was leaving cherry cheesecake happiness and sliding down the hill into despair, but I kept a fake smile on just in case it wasn’t a catastrophe.
“Plans have changed,” he cleared his throat. “I haven’t been feeling too great lately, and Joan talked me in to going to the doctor. He says I’ve got to slow down, cut down on stress and salt and all that. So instead of waiting four or five more years, it looks like I’m going to retire very soon.”
“Soon? Like, soon-soon?” I asked, eyebrows shooting up. Too soon too soon, I don’t have the money! No one I know has the money either. Shit.
“I take it from the look on your face that you don’t have your ducks in a row to buy me out,” he said.
“I have my ducks in a row. I just don’t have enough ducks,” I said glumly. “I don’t have the down payment together yet. Another year would do it. I’ve been saving aggressively for a long time, but, well—” I felt lame and inadequate to say the least. Like all those years of sacrifice, of never eating out or buying anything just because I liked it or God forbid taking a vacation, were all for nothing.
“I started a blood pressure medicine and some kind of heart pill. I’m going to be cutting back around here, spending less time at the diner. Try and cut out some of the stress,” he said, his voice grim.
What did Hugh have to stress about? I ran his profitable food service business six days a week. He only really had to work Saturday afternoon and Sunday, for fuck’s sake! Sure, he sat back in his office and went over receipts and, took naps, but what kind of stress was he even talking about? Because right now, I felt like my head was exploding.
“Do you plan to hire an assistant manager for weekends? And to take on some of, um, your duties?”
“You’re the manager. You’ll take on anything I have to cut out of my schedule,” he said.
The cheapskate wasn’t going to hire anyone to help me. And if I was taking over his work that meant, what? Working some naps into my schedule? Giving up my one day off?
“I love this place, and I’ve put my heart and soul into it since I was old enough to drive. The thing is, Hugh, I can’t afford to buy you out right now. You know it means the world to me to take over when you retire. How long can you give me to scrape up the down payment so I can borrow the rest? Six months?” I asked.
“No. Maybe three, four at the outside, and that’s with cutting back on my work a great deal.”
“Okay, um, that’s—let me see what I can come up with. But I think it’s only fair to tell you that I’m not in a position to work on Saturday afternoon and Sunday.”
“What? You religious all of a sudden?”
“No, Hugh. I’m human. I open and make pies every morning. I wait tables and manage the restaurant, and half the time I close the place down. There’s no way I’m working the weekends too. I’ll be happy to discuss scheduling with you if you have concerns, and we’ll find out who can fill in. Mandy’s usually here on weekends, and I can train her up to close on Saturdays and open on Sundays.”
“We’re not changing the hours of operation. I don’t want to lose money while I’m trying to give you a generous grace period to raise the funds. I don’t know how you don’t have it saved up by now, honestly. Expensive habits?” he chuckled.
I gritted my teeth. “No.” It was all I could do not to say, On what you pay me it’s a damn miracle I can save ten bucks. Instead, I dipped my chin. “I’ll try to determine a course of action this week and I’ll get back to you by Friday evening, let you know if I think this is an opportunity I can pursue or—or not.”
“I’m real sorry it’s worked out like this. You’ve been a good help to me, and I’d like to see you take over here if you can swing it. Let me know as soon as you can, Rach. I’ve been talking to Margaret down at the realty office, and she thinks we’d get a real good price listing the place online. Rockford Falls is real quaint and charming. Some rich city slicker would be bound to snap the diner up, and he might even keep you on to manage it.”