Granny Apples 05 - Ghost in the Guacamole (2 page)

“Emma,” Rikki said with a big smile when she reached the table. She shook Emma's hand with warmth. “Thank you so much for coming today.” She pulled out the chair next to Emma and sat down. It was the same chair Granny had been sitting in and Rikki sat down on top of the ghost.

“
Humpf!
” groused Granny, moving to hover behind Emma. “I hate that.”

Ignoring Granny, Emma said to Rikki, “I haven't been to Olvera Street since my daughter was in elementary school. I'd forgotten how cute and fun it is.” She held up the bags containing her purchases. “I even did some shopping. Do you work here?”

“I'm one of the owners of this restaurant and I also manage the place. My family has owned it since the late 1920s,” Rikki told Emma with great pride. “It started out as a hole-in-the-wall café. My great-grandfather waited the few tables and my great-grandmother did the cooking—everything from scratch. Over the years it expanded to become the largest restaurant on Olvera Street.”

Emma looked down at her menu and took note of the oak tree depicted on the front. She tapped it with a manicured nail. “Isn't this the same logo that's on Roble products in the grocery store? Any connection?”

Rikki nodded with another wide smile. “That's us. Over the years we've gone from a tiny cantina to a large Mexican food brand. We've even launched two food trucks that are doing great.
Roble
means oak tree. My great-grandfather named the restaurant for the huge tree that grew on their property back in Mexico.”

“We use those products all the time at home,” Emma told her with a chuckle. “My boyfriend loves your salsa verde. He slathers it on almost anything he can. He'll be tickled that I met you. In fact, I bet he'll insist that we come here for dinner sometime soon.”

Rikki blushed a bit. “I'm sure with your TV show and your background with the rich and famous, you meet a lot more interesting people than us restaurant folks.”

“Don't sell yourself short.
Rich and famous
doesn't always translate into
interesting
. Besides,” Emma told her with a wink, “now I can tell people I had lunch with Rikki Ricardo.”

Rikki laughed and her blush went deeper. “Yeah, you'd think I would get used to that over time, wouldn't you? Would you believe my sister is Lucy Ricardo?”

“No!”

“It's true,” Rikki said with a playful grin. “We're named after our maternal great-grandparents, Lucinda and Ricardo Duarte, who lived in Mexico, not after the old TV characters. It was something my mother promised her mother she'd do right before my grandmother passed when my mother was young. There was supposed to be a boy in the family, but after a few miscarriages following Lucy's birth, my parents decided I'd be the end of the line, so they named me Ricarda. Our parents never call us Lucy and Rikki, but everyone else does.”

There was a slight pause in their conversation, so Emma got down to business. “So why do you think you're being haunted?”

“Let's order first,” Rikki said. “Are you allergic to anything or dislike anything?”

“I'm mostly a vegetarian,” Emma told her, “but I do eat fish. In fact, I love it.”

“Got it,” said Rikki. “Then let me order your lunch for you. Something special. How spicy do you take it?”

“Medium, please.”

Rikki got up. “I'll be right back. Then we can talk about ghosts.”

Emma watched Rikki as she disappeared into the restaurant and wondered what kind of ghost was involved. Picking up a chip, she dipped it into the fresh salsa and bit into it. It was delicious and the chips were fresh and crispy with just a hint of salt, not coated with it like in some restaurants. She tasted the guacamole, and it was so wonderful she wanted to eat it with a spoon.

Granny settled herself in the chair next to the one Rikki had occupied. “Let me get this straight,” the ghost said with knitted brow. “She and her sister were named after the guy on that old TV show who sings ‘Babalu' and his nutty red-haired wife?”

Emma whispered back, “Not named after but they have similar names to those characters. Is
I Love Lucy
another show you watch with my father?” In spite of being a ghost, Granny loved watching TV, especially with Paul Miller, Emma's father. Crime dramas and NFL football were Granny's favorites.

“Not with Paul,” Granny clarified. “I watch it with your mother. Elizabeth and I have seen some of those shows over and over but they're always a hoot.”

Emma shook her head. Granny had become an important part of their family and kept company with all of them, even with her father and Phil, neither of whom could see or hear her. Over the years, both men had learned to sense when she was near and talked to her like she was breathing flesh and bone even if they could not hear her responses.

When Rikki came back out, the man named Hector stopped her. He seemed perturbed and gestured toward the empty section of the patio where Emma was sitting. He spoke to Rikki in Spanish in a low but angry voice. Rikki squared her shoulders and responded back in the same tone.

“You don't understand Spanish do you, Granny?” Emma asked the ghost, trying to keep her lips from moving since she'd removed her earpiece upon entering the restaurant.

“Nothing beyond
adios
,
gracias
, and
cerveza
,” responded the ghost. When Emma shot her a sharp look, Granny added, “What? Like you've never heard Phil order a beer?” The ghost turned her attention back to Rikki and Hector. “That's who we need now, ya know. Phil speaks Spanish. I've heard him.”

“Yes, he does, Granny,” Emma confirmed. “And so do both Milo and Tracy. I really must take the time to learn it, but that's not going to help us now.”

When Rikki left Hector and returned to the table, Emma gave her a warm smile. “I hope everything is okay? I can move if you need this table.”

“Everything is fine,” Rikki assured her as she sat down again. “And stay put. Hector is worried we're losing business by having these other tables empty. I blocked them off so we could have some privacy. But there's no line for lunch today and there's plenty of room inside the restaurant.” She inhaled deeply, held it, and blew it out, then repeated the calming exercise again. “Sometimes Hector forgets who's in charge.”

“Is he family?”

Rikki shook her head. “No, but close enough. He's worked here since he was a kid. He came over the border illegally when he was just ten or so. He was an orphan and showed up here starving and begging for food. My grandfather took him in, found a family to care for him, put him in school, gave him a job, and eventually helped him gain citizenship.”

“Wow,” Emma said. “That was really lovely of your grandfather.”

“Yes,” Rikki agreed. “He was like that. He did the same for a couple of other orphans over the years, but only Hector remained with the restaurant. The others moved on to careers in other fields.” She watched Hector as he consulted with Ana over something, then sighed deeply. “Hector and my dad were tight, like brothers. I think he was disappointed that he didn't get more in the will. I think he was expecting to get a piece of the business.”

“But he didn't?”

“No,” Rikki answered. “Both my father and grandfather were generous to him in their wills, but neither gave him any interest in Roble Foods. Since its humble beginnings, the family business has been just that—the family business. My father convinced my grandfather to incorporate decades ago but only he, my grandfather, my uncle Tito, and my mother were on the board and only family members held shares. For a Mexican family, we're very small. Uncle Tito never married and had no children. He died when I was still in college. It was just after Uncle Tito died that they elected Lucy and me to the board, and when Lucy finished with her MBA, she became involved in the day-to-day operations of the corporation and helped expand it deeper into the retail market. When our grandfather died, he was not replaced on the board. Since my father's death, only Lucy, our mother, and I remain on the board. We've talked about bringing Hector on to the board and even selling him stock, but we can't seem to agree among ourselves about his capacity or how much stock to sell him or much of anything else, so we're in a bit of a stalemate. The Crown Corporation had approached my father about selling the business to them shortly before he died. That went by the wayside after his death, but Lucy still wants to sell and opened up dialogue with them again. I'm dead set against it, and our mother is torn between us. One day she wants to sell. The next she doesn't. The company cannot be sold without unanimous consent.”

Rikki turned her attention fully on Emma. “Which segues right into why I wanted to meet with you, Emma.”

Rikki stopped speaking when their food arrived, carried by Carlos, the young man who'd served Emma her chips. He placed a sizzling plate of grilled shrimp and vegetables in front of Emma. Also on the plate were chunks of grilled fish, rice, and beans. He placed a similar plate in front of Rikki.

“Thank you, Carlos,” Rikki said to him. “Could you also bring me a limeade? In fact, just bring me a glass and a pitcher of the limeade. That way we can do our own refills.”

“Sure,” Carlos said. When he tucked the tray under his left arm, Emma noticed a smattering of tattoos snaking out from under the short sleeve of his
guayabera
down past his elbow. “Anything else?” When he spoke, he didn't look at either of them but straight ahead, his jaw tight.

“No, Carlos,” Rikki told him. “That's it. Thank you.”

When Carlos left, Rikki gave up another deep sigh. “Between Hector and Carlos, I can't seem to win today. Shortly before you arrived, I spoke to Carlos about wearing a short-sleeved shirt instead of one of our longer-sleeved ones.”

“But it's awfully hot out to wear long sleeves,” Emma noted.

“True,” Rikki agreed, “and personally I don't mind it. In fact, I have a couple of tattoos. But our customers don't like seeing the tattoos, especially the
gringo
summer tourists from out of town. They tend to equate them with gangs, although Carlos is a good student and on his way to college in September. He'll also get much better tips if he covers the tats. Carlos has worked for us for a couple of years and knows that covering tattoos with our longer-sleeved shirts is one of our policies. And our long-sleeved shirts don't come all the way down to the wrist, so they aren't that uncomfortable in summer.”

“Your hostess seems quite young. Is she also a student?”

Rikki glanced over at Ana, who was in the process of seating a couple on the other side of the patio. “Yes. Ana is Hector's daughter. She's been working here summers and school holidays for several years. She starts her second year at the University of Arizona in September.”

Emma started in on her food. So did Rikki.

“Boy, that looks good,” said Granny. “Nod once if it is,” she said to Emma.

Emma nodded while she chewed a big bite of the shrimp. “This is delicious,” she said to Rikki after she swallowed.

Rikki smiled. “The shrimp and fish are marinated in citrus juice and spices before being grilled. It's one of our specialties and a guarded secret of the chef.” With her fork, she pointed to the left side of Emma's plate. “That's grilled cactus. I hope you like it. And the pinto beans are vegetarian.”

“It's all scrumptious,” Emma said with enthusiasm. “I'll definitely have to bring my boyfriend here. He'll love it.”

Carlos brought a pitcher of limeade and a glass for Rikki. He placed it on the table and left without a word. Emma could see that his silent anger bothered Rikki.

After taking another bite, Emma opened the conversation back up. “So back to the ghosts. Do you think this place is haunted?”

“I'm hoping it is,” Rikki said in all seriousness. Picking up the pitcher, she refreshed Emma's glass then poured herself a glass of limeade. After taking a drink, she said, “I want you to contact the ghosts of my father and abuelito
.
That's my grandfather. I believe they are still here in the restaurant or at least visit it from time to time. Since Lucy and I are in a deadlock, I'm in bad need of their advice on how to change her mind.”

“Tell her no.”

Emma almost dropped her fork. The voice had come out of nowhere. It was male and not faint or tenuous, but bold and determined. The words were not a request, but an order.

“We're not alone,” Granny cautioned Emma. “The spirit's over there.” Granny pointed to the railing separating the restaurant from the street. Emma glanced over to where Granny indicated but could only see a shaky shimmering cluster of light, not a full outline of a spirit.

“You okay, Emma?” asked Rikki.

“Ah, yes,” Emma answered as she quickly regained her composure. “I'm fine. I just remembered something I forgot to do before leaving home,” she lied.

Emma turned her attention away from the railing and focused back on Rikki. “As I told you after yoga class, I'm not well versed in calling spirits to me. I more or less stumble upon them or connect with those that are already present.” Emma stuck a piece of grilled fish into her mouth and chewed without tasting. She cast a look at the railing but still didn't see anything beyond a faint shimmer.

“I got this,” Granny told Emma. The ghost left the table and floated over to where she thought the other spirit was hovering.

Across from Emma, Rikki tapped the table top with the tip of her right index finger. “I do believe my father and grandfather are here. I just need someone to connect with them so we can communicate. I'm sure they would never want their legacy sold like a sack of oranges on a highway divider.”

“Tell her no,” the voice said again. “She's to listen to her sister and sell it all. As soon as possible.”