The Lesson Read Online Free PDF Page B

cook, all ninety-eight pounds of maddening, middle-aged meanness, leaned over the pass-through, waved his hand wildly at Gina, scowled, and then pointed to Kevin’s order on the bar. She stiffened. Why can’t that man just ring the bell and forget it? Nevertheless she nodded her head to acknowledge his gyrations, finished taking an order from a couple at another table, and then went back to the side work area to put their order on the wheel. She clipped the order to the wheel and then looked down at the plates under the lamp. Kevin’s cheeseburger was ready, but it was paired with cole slaw, not fries. She pulled the order from under the side of the plate and checked her work. Sure enough, French fries. She leaned into the pass-through window.
    “George, this order is wrong. The customer asked for fries, not cole slaw.”
    George acted as if he had not heard, though Gina was certain he had. After a sultry delay, he jerked a thick lank of heavy salt-and-pepper hair out of his eyes and looked up at her from where he was grilling onions, scraping them back and forth on the flat metal grill. Little bubbles of brown juice scattered along the surface, bathing the onions in tender sweetness. Steam rose up in hot little bursts each time he pushed them across the blistering surface.
    Gina waited impatiently for his response, but all she got for her trouble was sizzle and steam. And not just on the grill. Only God knew how she tried to be nice, tried to be polite. Please, pretty please, George, give me the fries.
    “Look,” said Gina, holding up the order she’d written for Kevin and pointing at her shorthand. “See. F-F. It means FRENCH FRIES.”
    The minute she said it she knew she had made a mistake. Sarcasm was not the way to George’s heart, if indeed, he had one. His eyes snapped with anger, but he just continued to flip and scrape, moving the onions with the spatula to keep them from browning overly much, acting as though the sum total of his responsibility today was to waltz those onions across the grill, back and forth, back and forth.
    She stood firm and waited ng at her shorthandad returned to his waltz. . Instead streams of Tagalog coming from the kitchen. could not see. t a . She wasn’t going to lose another battle with George.
    “Ain’t got no fries,” he finally said, still flipping and scraping without even glancing at the spatula, his murderous eyes trained on Gina’s equally furious ones. She glanced over at the fryer next to the grill. Two baskets of fries bubbled away in deep bins of amber oil. For a moment she was tempted to go around the lunch counter, bang through the side door of the kitchen, and fetch the fries herself. But there were big knives in the kitchen, not to mention hot grease. Neither should be combined with crazy people.
    In a moment of inspiration, Gina looked down and saw a mountain of fries paired with a club sandwich on another plate under the lamp. While her tormentor continued to burn holes into her head with his evil laser eyes, she coolly pulled the orders from the bar as if she were about to deliver them to the dining area. But instead she paired the fries with Kevin's sandwich. Unfortunately she upset the club sandwich as she removed the fries. She grimaced as the top half slipped to the floor. Oh well. She picked up the soiled food, tossed it into the garbage, and put the ruined order back on the bar. She picked up Kevin’s plate and turned toward the dining room. As she did, streams of blistering curses spewed from the kitchen pass-through window.
    Yes, George. I’m sure your mother is a very nice lady, too.
    Gina set Kevin’s order on the table in front of him. He didn’t need anything more so she left him to enjoy his lunch and newspaper while she tended her other customers. Every once in a while, though, she looked in his direction. My, he looks sharp in that uniform. But then she remembered the pants and sweater he wore on Wednesday night and the corny jokes and was