Chasing Shadows Page 2

  In spite of my warnings (and her promises) Mom went way overboard with the balloons. They were everywhere, hanging from light fixtures, doorways, and ceilings, stuck to walls, bursting out of vases in bloated bouquets, and just lying about the floor. The colour explosion was enough to hurt a person’s eyes. At least none of them were pink, though some of the ones she insisted were burgundy looked suspiciously close to fuchsia to me.

  I figured she must be afflicted with some kind of weird compulsive decorating disease and couldn’t help herself, so I didn’t complain. Besides, Greg had arrived before anyone else, and he thought the house looked great.

  Greg’s mom died a year ago, which gives him a bit of a different outlook on the insane things moms can do sometimes. I have to admit it helps me see my own mom in a softer light when she does something that irritates me — like she had with the balloons.

  “The place looks amazing,” Greg told Mom. “You must have spent hours and hours decorating.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mind,” she said, pleased. “Anything for my little girl.”

  For her little girl indeed! The truth is that she’s the one who goes all crazy over stuff like this. Well, if it meant that much to her, I guessed I could just let her enjoy it and not mention that.

  My best friend, Betts, was the next to arrive. Without even saying hello, she grabbed my arm and pulled me to a corner in the front hallway.

  “Tell me you didn’t invite Derek,” she said, in a tone that sounded like she was issuing a command.

  “Of course I did. He’s your boyfriend, remember?”

  “You mean he was my boyfriend,” she said. “I ditched him this afternoon. He’d better not show up here tonight.”

  “But I thought everything was going great with you and Derek.” As I spoke, I looked for signs that she might be teasing. Betts is pretty transparent most of the time, so I figured if she was making it up — for whatever reason — I’d be able to tell. Her face seemed normal to me, though, so it I decided it was true.

  “We were okay until he decided to turn into a total jerk.” Betts tossed her head back, her mouth pinched in a pout. This only lasted a few seconds, though, and then she snapped back to normal. Well, normal might not be quite the right word for Betts.

  “Look at this place!” she squealed. “Your mom went insane with the balloons!”

  “Yeah, I know.” I was impatient to find out what had happened with Derek, and more guests would be coming any minute, making it impossible. Betts had been going out with him for months and they seemed really well-suited to each other. In fact, it was one of the longest relationships she’d ever had. The suddenness of the breakup was strange enough, but her apparent indifference was really unsettling.

  “I mean, she must have bought every balloon in town,” Betts giggled. “It looks like the balloon factory blew up in here.”

  “Betts!” I said sharply. “Never mind that right now. What happened with you and Derek?”

  “Oh, that.” She tried to look bored, as though the subject was of no interest to her whatsoever. “He’s history.”

  “But why, Betts?” I’d never had so much trouble getting information out of her in all the years we’d been friends.

  “We had a fight, a big one.” She shrugged, like she didn’t care, but there was a barely perceptible tremble in her lip and a catch in her throat. “He said I was controlling, that I always have to have my own way, and that he can’t even breathe when I’m ordering him around all the time.”

  Betts is a bit bossy at times, so I could kind of see Derek’s point, but she’s not that bad. Anyway, my main concern wasn’t who was right, it was how Betts was feeling. It was starting to be pretty clear that she was putting on a brave front, probably on account of not wanting to spoil anything for me on my birthday.

  “So you dumped him?” I asked, not really knowing what else to say.

  “Yeah.” She sounded miserable. It seemed the cover-up was crumbling fast.

  “Well, was he upset about it?”

  “I don’t know. Anyway, who cares?” As she spoke, she tilted her chin up and smiled. Even if I hadn’t known her well enough to see through that, the act she was trying to put on was contradicted by the tears suddenly brimming in her eyes.

  “Oh, Betts, it’ll be okay. I bet he feels worse than you do.”

  “Who says I feel bad?” she sniffed, then burst into sobs.

  “Come on, let’s go get some punch and not think about it right now,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder. “But you mark my words, you and Derek will be back together before I have my first full week in at work.”

  I’d hoped to distract her by mentioning the job, and it worked. She seemed to forget her problems with Derek for the moment, asking me questions about how I got hired and what I was going to be doing.

  Before we’d even finished talking about it, other kids were arriving and things started to get busy. It looked as though the evening would go smoothly.

  Then Derek came. He stood at the door, shifting from foot to foot and looking at the step.

  “I wasn’t sure if I was still invited or not,” he said.

  I didn’t know either, to tell the truth. It was hard to predict how Betts would react — whether she’d be upset or glad to see him. My take on his attitude was that he was pretty glum about the breakup and might be hoping to patch things up, but that didn’t guarantee how she’d feel.

  “Just wait here for a sec,” I told him. It took a minute to find Betts, and when I first whispered that Derek was at the door she looked happy in spite of everything that she’d said earlier. Just as quickly as her face lit up, though, she pushed it aside and scowled.

  “Why don’t you go talk to him,” I suggested. “I didn’t know whether or not I should ask him in, in case it bothered you.”

  “He can come in if he wants. Makes no difference to me,” she sniffed, once again contradicting what she’d said earlier.

  “He looks pretty unhappy,” I mentioned. That seemed to cheer her, and I watched her rapidly changing expressions with amusement.

  “Yeah?”

  “Really. What harm can it do to talk to him for a minute?”

  “I suppose … just for a minute, though,” she agreed.

  Even though she sounded reluctant, I knew better. I could tell she was dying to talk to him, and I knew I’d been right when a good half hour passed before I saw either one of them again. When I did, they were holding hands and smiling from ear to ear.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I was almost late on my first morning at work! You know how it is when your alarm rings and you swat it — kind of annoyed because you know it’s a weekend and you don’t have to get up? Then you remember that there was a reason you set it for this particular day? Well, that’s what happened, and I nearly fell back to sleep before I realized what I was doing.

  But anyway, I got up and got there on time after all. Lisa, the lady who’d interviewed me, led me to the kitchen and introduced me to the cook, whose name was Ben.

  I don’t know quite what I’d been expecting, but the guy in the kitchen sure wasn’t it. He looked like he was barely in his twenties, with long hair tied back in a ponytail and earrings in his eyebrows and lip.

  “Hey, Shelly.” He grinned at me.

  “It’s Shelby, actually,” I said, feeling foolish for some reason, as though it was my fault he’d gotten my name wrong.

  “Well, then, Shelby,” Ben waved a hand about the room, “welcome to my kitchen.”

  “Thanks.” I felt awkward. It wasn’t that he was saying or doing anything to make me feel that way. I suppose it was just that I was already nervous and ill at ease.

  “Together, we will create magic here, no?”

  It seemed a strange way to phrase a question — with the word “no” at the end.

  “I believe the magic is your department,” I said, trying to sound casual when in truth my stomach was all tight. “I think I’m just here to wash dishes and pee
l vegetables and stuff.”

  He laughed, throwing his head back and letting his whole body vibrate with it, as though I’d made a really funny joke. I managed to force a smile.

  “So, your first job will be to cut out our lunch special,” he said, once he’d gotten himself back under control. “There’s a cutter there on the counter.”

  I picked it up and followed him to the other side of the room, where something pale was spread out over a table.

  “Just cut this out. Dip the cutter in warm water if it gets sticky, though it shouldn’t. The portions can go on this tray.”

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Polenta. I prepared it this morning and now it’s cool enough to cut. It’s served with a sauce over it.” He smiled and chuckled. “Cornmeal. That’s all it is. But it sounds fancy, no? Customers love to order things that sound elegant.”

  “They’re kind of small,” I commented as I lifted the first few onto the tray. Each circular shape was about as big around as a doughnut, but not as thick.

  Ben laughed again and made some remark about how the less you give people to eat, the more they think they’re getting the royal treatment. It didn’t make sense to me, but then I’d starve if I had to make it from one meal to the next on the amount of food in each of these polenta servings.

  When I’d finished with that, I had a whole bunch of vegetables to chop up for soup and to be served with main course dishes. It seemed as though I’d never make my way through the mountain of produce, and I started worrying that I’d get fired because the soup wouldn’t be ready in time for lunch.

  “Here,” Ben said at one point, taking a pile of peeled carrots and laying them on a chopping board. The blade on his knife flew up and down so fast I couldn’t follow its movement. They were chopped in seconds! Next, he took celery stalks that I’d trimmed and washed and did the same with them. It seemed as though my work had been reduced by twenty-five percent in less than a minute. It made me feel like a total snail.

  “Before Madam Anorexia comes in and bites your head off,” he said when I thanked him.

  “You mean Lisa?” I asked, kind of shocked that he’d speak that way about his employer. It did sort of suit her, though, thin as she was.

  “Yes. Only her real name is Alessia, after our grandmother. Just like my name is really Beniamino.”

  “After your …” I began. “You mean, you and, uh, Lisa, are related?”

  “She’s my cousin. Our fathers are brothers. But don’t hold it against me.” He turned back to the stove, where something was simmering in a pot. “I’d like to tell you that deep down inside Lisa is really a warm and loving person. I can’t, though, because I dislike lying.”

  At that very moment Lisa came breezing through the doorway. I felt my face grow warm and red, as though I’d been the one saying those things about her.

  “Lisa,” Ben said with a smirk and a little bow. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your charming presence? And how may I be of service to you?”

  “You can stop the nonsense,” she suggested. She turned to look at me, and past me, to the pile of vegetables behind me on the counter. Then her eyes strayed to the smaller pile still waiting to be peeled or chopped.

  “You aren’t finished yet.”

  “Very good!” Ben cried before I could answer. “Your powers of observation amaze us, one and all. Now, shoo, be off with you. I have work to do.”

  Lisa frowned but didn’t answer him. Instead, she rolled her eyes as if to ask why she had to put up with such a moron.

  “You have to work faster,” she told me.

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “There are already pots waiting to be washed,” she pointed out. “You’re not even finished the vegetables, and you haven’t started…”

  “Because I have been giving her other tasks to do as well,” Ben cut her off. “Will you please leave the kitchen matters in my hands. If Shelby doesn’t work out, I’ll let you know, but leave it to me to put her to use where she’s most needed. Everything will get done.”

  Lisa looked as though she had a few things to say to him. Her mouth opened, but a sudden, strange noise in the walls distracted her.

  “What’s that?” I asked, startled. It sounded as though there was something trapped in there, banging and howling all at once.

  “It’s only the pipes.” Ben’s hand swept downward, dismissing my alarm. “I just turned on the water to fill the sink. It does this sometimes. Air trapped or something. Nothing to worry about.”

  Having been cut off for the second time, Lisa sighed in exasperation and left the kitchen. As she passed me on her way to the door, she hissed something that sounded like “Faster!” though I couldn’t be certain.

  Ben must have heard it too. “Don’t worry,” he grinned. “She never brings her whip to work. Anyway, you’re doing fine.”

  I didn’t feel as though I was doing fine, but I can say one thing about my first day on the job: it flew by faster than I could have believed possible. There was so much to do, and when the waitresses, Nadine and another, older lady named Ruth, got there, things really got busy.

  I don’t know how Ben kept up. Nadine and Ruth kept coming in with lunch orders written on the pads they carried in pockets of their aprons. They’d clip each order to a wheel that was hanging over the main work area, and Ben would glance at it and fly into action, while still taking care of everything else that was already on the go. It gave the illusion that he had about ten hands, all moving at once.

  If I’d had as much to do as he did, I’d have been so overwhelmed I would have given up, but rather than getting flustered, he whistled and hummed as he worked. As for me, I could barely keep up with the rapidly growing piles of dishes even though all I had to do with them was load them in the dishwasher. It wasn’t like the kind people have at home but rather reminded me of a car wash. Rollers slowly moved trays of dishes through the machine until they came out the other side, washed and rinsed and almost too hot to touch. I left them for a few moments before unloading and by then they were dry because any remaining water on them had steamed off.

  Nadine went out of her way to be friendly to me, stopping for a few seconds now and then to offer a word or two of encouragement. The other waitress was nice too, but quieter and less inclined to chat.

  By the end of my shift, I was worn out. I almost hoped Lisa would tell me I wasn’t working out, but when I was getting ready to leave, she came into the kitchen, looking around carefully.

  “You did okay,” she said, without the slightest sign of being pleased. “Come in Tuesday, after school, and I will give you your schedule for the next few weeks.”

  I told her thanks, but if she heard me she didn’t acknowledge it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The first few days at work were the hardest, but by the end of the second week I was getting used to the job. Most days I even finished my work with time to spare for a few extra things, like taking glasses or bread and butter plates out to the dining room, something the waitresses usually did when they had a few free moments.

  We were all kept pretty busy most of the time. Between the lunch and dinner rushes I had piles of dishes, as well as whatever Ben needed done, while the waitresses had to clean and set the tables and do things like shape the big, soft cloth serviettes into cones and stand them upside down at each place setting.

  And then of course there was always the odd customer who’d stop in for a meal, or even just dessert, between normal mealtimes, so the place wasn’t often completely empty.

  One afternoon, Nadine came into the kitchen looking a bit agitated. “If you’re not busy in here,” she whispered, “would you find something to do in the dining area for a few minutes?”

  “Sure,” I agreed. “I have some cutlery and stuff to bring out to the trays anyway. What’s up?”

  “It’s nothing, really. Just me being overly nervous, probably. But I have this customer who kind of gives me the creeps. He comes in the middle o
f the afternoon some days — for coffee and pie — and he just sits there and stares at me. Normally, Lisa is around, but she’s gone to do the bank deposit or something, so I’m like totally alone with him right now.”

  “Well, let me just get this apron off and I’ll come help you set the tables up. By the time we get that done, Lisa should be back.”

  “I feel silly asking you to do this,” she admitted. “It’s not as if he’s ever actually said or done anything — it’s just that he’s so strange, staring but never saying a word.”

  “It’s no problem,” I assured her. Ben waved me away when I went to explain to him that I was going to the other room with Nadine for a bit.

  “My dear cousin may care desperately what you do every moment that you’re here,” he laughed, “but I am the sane one in the family, remember?”

  I could see right away what Nadine meant about the guy in the dining room. It was definitely a bit weird, the way he sat there, his eyes following her under big, bushy eyebrows. He watched every step she took. I wondered if he was from Little River or not, since I couldn’t remember ever seeing him before. Of course, I don’t know everyone in town.

  Lisa was a while getting back that day, but it didn’t matter. The guy finished his pie and coffee, dropped some change on the table, and got up to leave.

  “Come with me,” Nadine said, talking through clenched teeth, her voice low.

  I went along, even though I felt a bit foolish accompanying her to the cash register. It was good that I did, though, because she was so flustered that she couldn’t get the cash register to work. It won’t operate until you put in a key and turn it, but Nadine forgot about that and tried to ring in his purchase without the key until I reminded her.

  “Thank goodness you were here!” she declared after he’d taken his change and gone silently out the door. “I was so rattled I’d never have remembered the key. As it was, I could hardly remember which one to use.”

  “What are all the others for?” I asked, noticing how full the ring was.

  “I dunno. Probably for the entrance doors and stuff they keep locked in the office.”