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And pancakes. And perhaps some bacon. The smells all floated through the air as if they were being carried quickly and swiftly by the air conditioner’s breeze.
I got dressed and brushed my hair, but the smell of the food was too much for me to hold back any longer. I’d been planning to just have some protein bars this morning because I needed to finish some landscaping before the real rush of the season began.
We were in a lull right now with some bad weather in the forecast. I’d even had a few guests reach out to move their reservations. This week, we only had a few guests in the lodge, but I knew they were all checking out by the end of the day to get back to their regular lives before having to sit inside during a mountain storm. If I remembered the books right, I didn’t think our next round of visitors were coming until a few days from now. Fishing wasn’t as fun in the cold, and with the news of late-spring bad weather, it made sense to have a slow week.
When I arrived in the dining room, I saw that it was already set up with covered platters in the warming area. A few early-rising guests waved as I walked through and into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, I saw both Rick and Laurel enjoying a breakfast of hashbrowns, pancakes, over easy eggs, toast, and bacon. There were also some muffins on the table.
“Luke, you have to try her pancakes,” Rick said when he saw me. “She made them from scratch.”
“That’s not the most impressive thing to make from scratch,” I said. “But… a good breakfast does sound like the right thing to do right now. Better than some protein bars before I start landscaping, I suppose.”
I grabbed a plate from the kitchen – which she had thankfully set out on the counter for me – and then dished up some food for myself. She refused to look me in the eye, which I didn’t mind so much. My plan had been to ignore her this morning, but I couldn’t help but notice she looked exhausted. The fact that she had caught me in such a moment of unplanned emotional intimacy last night made me uncomfortable around her right now. She didn’t appear to have any reason to use it against me, but I could never be too sure.
As I ate, I realized that she was indeed a good cook. Then again, a good home cooked breakfast like this wasn’t the hardest thing in the world to cook. The bacon was a bit on the floppy side, but if she preferred it that way, I wouldn’t criticize her for cooking it that way today. As if the universe had read my thoughts, my eyes landed on a platter in the warming oven. I could see two neat piles of bacon on either side of the plate. One was clearly crisp, one less so. I realized it was a second round of bacon to put in the dining room. She’d made both for the guests.
I ate quietly, hoping that Rick wouldn’t try and force a conversation between the three of us. Considering there hadn’t been much of a conversation when I walked in, I supposed there wasn’t much to worry about there.
I was nearly finished when Rick took his empty plate into the kitchen sink and washed it off. I watched as he stuck it in the dishwasher, and then headed out towards his truck. I hoped he found the minifridges he was looking for.
Chapter thirteen
Laurel
Breakfast was awkward. Rick appeared to be more than happy to stay out of it, which I appreciated. When Rick left the dining room, Luke turned to me. I decided that this was a good time to apologize for anything I might have caused at the bar.
“Before you say anything, Mr. Delaney, I wanted to apologize for any tension or upset that I caused by being at the bar last night,” I said before adding, “and the other nights I went to listen to your band.” I hesitated before continuing. “See, it started because I wanted to get away and unwind after our fights. I heard you play there one Friday, and something about it just made me feel like maybe I could actually stay in Waterfront..”
“It’s not like there are many places to unwind here in Waterfront that are open that late,” Mr. Delaney said, resigned.
“And I’m sorry if my excitement has been causing the friction between us,” I continued.
This caught Mr. Delaney’s attention more than anything else, I supposed. He raised an eyebrow at me.
“I was so excited when I got this job, but it’s just been so different from what I envisioned. It’s been… tricky to come to terms with sometimes.” I blushed and looked at my hands. “Also, I’m sorry for totally ignoring your system for introducing new dishes.” I glanced up sheepishly. “Honestly, I thought it was just something you made up on the spot because you were trying to win an argument, but I asked Rick,” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “And Rick said that you actually did have a process… so… yeah. Sorry about that.”
Luke didn’t say anything, and I felt like I needed to fill the silence.
“In my defense, a couple guests have told me they really like the chicken strips and lasagna,” I saw Luke’s forehead crease, so I hurried on. “But what I’m saying is that I’m open to having a tasting with you, Rick, and a few others so we can actually finalize a menu for this place through your procedure.”
I hoped that by sharing my view of what was going on, he would be able to come to understand what I wanted to happen here. It wasn’t so much that I wanted free reign over the menu. I wanted to be able to share some of my favorite meals with the guests who would be here in the lodge. That was all.
He nodded slowly, as if thinking over my words. I didn’t say anything to hurry his decisions along. Instead, I simply started to gather my own dishes and put them in the sink.
I was almost done rinsing my dishes off, thinking about what I wanted to make for dinner that night with the ingredients we had when I heard Luke push his stool away from the counter. I turned my head to look as Mr. Delaney walked right over to the sink and waited for me to turn it off. I did so.
“Perhaps we have both misunderstood what is going to happen this season,” he said softly. “Look, I don’t like to share much with strangers, but if you’re going to work here, I think we need to learn to compromise. What dishes would you most prefer to see added to the menu that are not meant to cater to a specific medical need or a diet?”
“I would love to have the chicken a la penne on the menu,” I replied without hesitation. “It’s a rich, creamy sauce over chicken and penne noodles. A simple meal, I promise, even though it looks a little fancier because it’s not a sandwich.”
Mr. Delaney nodded.
“However, I’d be more than willing to keep a sandwich bar open for the rest of the guests,” I continued. “We could pre-wrap sandwiches and offer condiments like they do at sub shops, which would allow the guests to add whatever they want and allow me to keep the kitchen in clean order.”
Mr. Delaney raised an eyebrow and motioned for me to follow him into the dining room. Once we were both standing there, watching a few guests finishing up their breakfast, Luke gestured to the room at large. “Where could we put the sandwich bar?”
“That… that is a good question,” I replied, surprised we weren’t arguing.
