Good Enough to Eat (30 page)

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Authors: Stacey Ballis

BOOK: Good Enough to Eat
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“I’m fake thankful for business lunches,” Phil says.
“Easy, guys.” Gilly laughs. “Fakesgiving isn’t really fake; we can be actually thankful. I, for example, am thankful for my big sister who loves me even though I am very neglectful of her.” She leans over and kisses the top of my head.
“And I am thankful for my little sister who flew all this way to be with us and give me an excuse to make stuffing! I’m also thankful for all of you. I love each and every one of you, and am very blessed to know you.”
“Here, here,” Nathan says. “To our lovely hostess and the visiting guest of honor.” He raises his glass, the group toasts, and the impulse to share around the table seems to dissipate.
We eat till near bursting, despite the summer heat outside, filling ourselves full of turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and all the trimmings. Nadia keeps herself well away from Nathan, and periodically Daniel eyes him warily. Gilly visits with Kai and Phil, who she fell in love with the last time she was here. Janey and Delia disappear next door to check out the progress on the new store.
Nathan comes up behind me. “So, can I help clean up?”
“Sure. Grab some plates.” We head back to the kitchen, and I start rinsing dishes and silver and loading them into the powerful dishwasher. Nathan hands me another stack.
“You don’t want to wait, do you.” It isn’t a question.
“Actually, I want to wait more than anything. But I don’t think it would be healthy to wait. If that makes any sense.”
He sighs. “I get it. I don’t like it, and I hope you know that if you change your mind at any time, either about the waiting or about coming to join me, I’d be delighted.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Do I at least get to keep in touch? To hope you’ll still be available when I get back?”
“I think we should keep the communication to a moderate level. The rest will figure itself out.” He leans over and kisses me.
“Do I get to at least spend as much time with you as possible before I go, or are we playing by the new rules already?”
I put my hand on the side of his neck, and pull him in for a deep, lingering kiss. “I expect you to do your level best to give me something to remember you by.”
“That I can manage. One more thing?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you go to my folks for Passover? I’ll never make it back for that, and they like you better than me anyway.”
I laugh. “Well, we’ll see. Lord knows when Ellie Gershowitz calls, I can refuse her nothing.”
“I’m thankful for you every day, Mel. I hate that my work is coming between us.”
“I think the universe works in magical ways. If we are supposed to end up together, we will. And if we weren’t, then maybe this is the universe’s way of letting us part friends, without acrimony or harsh words. Letting us part in a way that means we can still be in each other’s lives.”
“Well, if that is true, then it is another thing to be thankful for.”
“Me too. Now go grab more dishes.”
 
 
“Thank you for coming.” I hug her, trying not to cry.
“Stop that. I’m a selfish cow and I should have come sooner. Promise that you’ll come soon? My treat.”
“I promise.” After a long chat, I finally agreed to let her fly me in on her abundant frequent flier miles. “London will be great for me, the food is so terrible, it won’t undo my program!”
“Very funny. Love you, Mel. I’ll talk to you soon.” And I believe that she will.
“Love you too. Safe travels.”
“Bye.” She whizzes through the doors at O’Hare and is gone. I get back in the car.
“She’s really nice,” Nadia says.
“Thanks. I think so. And she liked you too.”
“I was ready to be kind of jealous of her.”
“Jealous, why?”
Nadia chews on a piece of pink hair. “Because she’s your sister, and she always gets to be that to you. And because I never had a sister, but if I did, I would want her to be like you, and I kind of pretend sometimes that you are my sister and it makes me feel better. But I know I’m not, you know, not really.”
I look over at her, and smile. “I’ll tell you a secret. Someone like me, I can use all the family I can get. And I could sure use a little sister who is local.”
Nadia starts to cry.
I reach a hand over and she takes it and squeezes.
“Mel, you’re not breaking up with Nathan because of me, right?”
“Nathan and I aren’t breaking up; we’re just letting things go for the time being. And we’re doing that because it is smart and the right thing for both of us. But I hope that in a year, when he comes back, if he and I end up giving it another try, that you will be ready to start over with him.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Good girl. Let’s go home.”
“Yeah. Hey, do we have any leftover stuffing?”
“God, I certainly hope so!”
CHEESEBURGERS
When we were kids, there weren’t that many vacations. Grandma and Grandpa Hoffman paid for day camp, and eventually overnight camp in the summers. We all loved to be home in Chicago during the winter break, with the white lights down Michigan Avenue, and the magical windows in Marshall Field’s on State Street. But spring break Mom would always try to take us somewhere, usually a road trip with an educational bent. We loved those trips, just the three of us, driving through the country, radio on loud, having the conversations you only have on long drives. When we had time to stop and sit somewhere, we’d find someplace that seemed to have either trucks or Harleys parked in front, and order up whatever their “famous” burger was. Plain thin patties on sad buns, or juicy half-pound monsters on buttered, toasted pumpernickel. Basic American cheese and bacon, or fancy Swiss and sautéed mushrooms. We’d order them “bloody,” with fries on the side. Skinny little pale fries, thick, extra-crispy fries, wide steak fries with skin on. For food that was invented for ease and speed, the pleasure it brings is simple and pure. Food you eat with your hands, the tearing of meat, grease on your chin and salt on your fingertips, and your mom really deeply laughing.
 
 
When I get to the store, Delia and Kai are there waiting for me.
“Oh, crap, this feels like an intervention. What’s up?”
“We are here to ask you again to partner with us in the café next door,” Kai says.
“Please, Mel. We need you. It isn’t the same unless we have you with us,” Delia says.
“Oh, guys, I love you so much, but you know I just don’t have the financial wherewithal to do that right now. I’m really lucky to own this place and my place outright, but I’m still not making a huge amount of money, and it is just too risky in this economy to take any loans against the store or my house. I could lose everything. . . .”
“It is still possible, Little,” Kai says with a wide smile.
“It appears that Kai’s brilliant boyfriend has solved that problem as well,” Delia says, a grin splitting her round cheeks.
Kai is practically hopping up and down. “Phil came up with the perfect solution! Delia doesn’t know shit about running a business.”
“Boy, watch your mouth.”
“Sorry, Delovely.” He turns back to me. “She doesn’t know fuck-all about running a business.”
“KAI! I will wash your mouth out, don’t think I won’t.” Delia walks over to get herself a cup of coffee.
“Anyway, you know all there is to know about putting a place together, sanitation regulations, permits and inspections, ordering, all that stuff. Phil and I don’t know about that stuff. You know I was a mess with that crap at CHIC, barely passed those management classes, I just like to cook! So, we hire you as the consultant and manager for the place. You work with us to design the kitchen, to set up the business end, and do all the ordering, centralized out of Dining by Design and run by you. Essentially, next door becomes a satellite of this place. We’ll be ordering larger amounts, so we’ll get better deals from vendors, and the savings will help both businesses. We’ll do all of the insurance and so on through your company, keeping the thing as streamlined as possible. Plus, if Delivery by Design gets off the ground, again, we can deliver food from both stores . . . so the busy couple who wants the convenience can have broader choices. We figured that if we had to hire an outside consultant on all of this it would cost about fifteen to twenty thousand dollars to get the place set up, plus about another grand a month or so to manage it. What we do is give you an initial share of the place valued at twenty thousand dollars in exchange for your services, and the first two years of your thousand dollars a month also coming to you as credit toward the partnership. By the end of the second year, you’ll own fifteen percent of the business, and you can decide whether you want to continue to serve as manager. If you do, the thousand dollars a month can come to you as income, or you can continue to put it back into the business up to a maximum partnership of twenty-five percent. If the business starts turning a profit earlier than we anticipate, you can flip your profits to get to that twenty-five percent share quicker.”
I’m floored. “You really have worked all this out, haven’t you?”
Kai comes over and sits on my lap, putting an arm around my shoulder, the weight of him barely registering on me. “We wanted to be sure it would work, and we wanted to be sure that it would be attractive enough for you to say yes. Say yes, Ittle Bittle. It won’t be any fun without you.”
“I’ll have to talk to my accountant, and we’ll have to come up with a good business plan, but I think it sounds wonderful. I think it sounds better than wonderful, I think it sounds like the best news I’ve had in ages. I love you guys!”
The three of us fall into a group hug of the motliest sort. Three people who in a million years would never have met, except that the universe, for all its nastiness, sometimes sends you exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. And when what you need is family, because you are bereft of yours, or because the one you have is broken or doesn’t appreciate you, there is always family to be created.
 
 
“How on earth are we going to carry all this?” Delia asks, looking at the stack of coolers and cooking equipment around us.
“Phil has a friend with connections, so we get special parking, and access to a golf cart.”
It’s July third, and we are going to Navy Pier to picnic and watch the fireworks. We’ve packed a small grill for burgers, luscious three-to-a-pound prime babies we made today. Coolers hold cheese and crackers, potato and pasta salads, fruit and cookies, champagne and beer. We have fold-up chairs and a portable picnic table. We are celebrating the official launch of our new venture. Dining by Design and Delivery by Design and Comfort Food! The contractor starts the build-out next door right after the holiday, and our first deliveries will begin the same day. Delia moved into her new place on the first, and I helped the shelter throw her a big party. It feels like she’s grown a foot in the last month, she feels taller somehow. It’s amazing to see how something so simple as your own place to live and a sense of work pride can make all the difference in the world.
“Hey, what can we carry?” Nadia comes into the kitchen, trailed by Daniel.
“It all goes, child, grab whatever you can.” Delia gestures at the pile.
Nadia picks up a cooler, and Daniel grabs two chairs under each arm and they head out to start loading up.
“He’s a nice boy.”
“Yes, D, he is.”
“She’s moving in with him?”
“Soon. She wants to wait till you open, since then she’ll have full-time hours and can contribute more to the household expenses.”
“You don’t mind my stealing her?”
“I think it’s a good fit. You guys work well together, and she’ll still be coordinating the delivery business with me. Besides, I get Kai, and I have to start having externs again in the fall. When we get you open I can hire someone to work afternoons with me.”
“And you don’t mind Daniel stealing her?”
“I think it’s good for us to know that our time together has an official expiration date. Takes the pressure off.”
“Seems like a lot all at once.”
“No more than I can handle.”
“Child. The good lord will never send you more than you can handle.” She picks up a large cooler, as if to put a point on it.
I grab the cooler nearest me. “Let’s hope so.”
 
 
I’m locking up the front door when suddenly I’m engulfed in shadow.
“Are you closed?” I turn to see a large woman standing behind me. She looks somewhat stricken.
“Just getting ready to go, was there something you needed?”
Her shoulders slump. “No, it’s okay, never mind. Have a good holiday.” She is a pretty girl, porcelain skin and wide brown eyes and a little rosebud mouth. She’s probably five-six or -seven, and looks like a Swiss milkmaid. I’d peg her at around 240, maybe 250.

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