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“Me and the ice are sworn enemies.”
“We should rectify this as soon as possible.”
“No, thanks,” she said dismissively.
“Tell me something else about you, or how you grew up.”
“This is not the time. We have to prep for dinner service,” she reminded me, exasperated by my lack of urgency.
“The chaos out there can wait. Tell me something else, Vera.”
She finally turned to face me.
“I like apples.”
It was my turn to raise a brow.
“Yeah, apples are cool. I prefer Granny Smiths.”
She wrinkled her nose in displeasure. “It’s all about the Honeycrisps, baby.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
“Too bad this is a hill I’m willing to die on. Every September, my local family gets together and visits my grandfather to harvest Honeycrisps from his orchards. We make a thing out of it and make a shit ton of applesauce, pies, and cider, and he sells the rest at a local farmer’s market.”
The wholesome bond Vera shared with her family made my chest tighten. I missed everyone back home and was counting down the days until I could be surrounded by the people who made me feel whole. Family meant everything to me, and seeing how close she was to hers only deepened the pull. Sure, her relationship with her father was less than ideal, but his vices were his own, and she loved him anyway. That kind of grace was hard to find, and if I were lucky, maybe I’d get an invite to harvest apples next September.
“Damn. If only I’d met you a few months earlier.”
She shifted on her feet uncomfortably and fiddled with her tie as my words hung heavy in the air. I was curious to see how she’d react. Would she make a joke and blow me off?
“If…” she began, “you play your cards right, you might be picking apples alongside us next September.”
Her response caught me off guard. I’d expected a deflection—sarcasm, maybe, or something snarky to keep the moment light. But something in her voice seemed almost… hopeful.
Play my cards right, huh? Vera doesn’t know it yet, but I’m not the kind of guy who bluffs. If I’m in, I’m all in—no folding and no second-guessing.
***
“Good evening, everyone. I wish I could say tonight will go smoothly, but as you know, we are short-staffed in all departments. While I expect your best, I don’t expect perfection. Please don’t let your customer service falter because it’s not our guests’ fault that your coworkers didn’t clock in.
“Please be patient with each other, especially the cooking staff. I promise we will get the food out as fast as possible, but we will not skimp on quality. Normally, comps are only approved by management; however, you may use comps at your discretion tonight. We won’t comp entire entrees, but I don’t mind a free appetizer or bottle of wine. I prefer the wine since we have bottles that need to be moved to make room for incoming inventory. Braxton.”
“Yes?”
“What wine should they be pushing?”
“The Scarlet Hollow red blend. It’s bold and aromatic and pairs well with most dishes on the menu and only costs us $12.00 a bottle.”
“Wonderful. Make it happen. Ms. Vera is a gig worker joining the waitstaff tonight. Please treat her with the same dignity and respect you would any of your coworkers. If she is struggling or comes to you with a question, please take a few seconds to answer and point her in the right direction. Tara, please take the next thirty minutes to get Vera up to speed on the specials and POS system.”
“What section would you like her assigned to?”
“Four, please. Do you have anything to add, DeAndre?” I asked, giving him the floor.
“Please limit your breaks, and make sure you have proper coverage before excusing yourself for a break. Any questions?”
Everyone shook their head.
