Sugar And Spice (Main Street Merchants Book 7) Page 6

  Sal ran his hand over his face again. He must do that when he’s worried, Sloane thought. “Well, I’m retired now, so I’ve got some time to kill. I guess I could try.”

  “Just remember what our papa taught us, and you’ll be fine.” Eddie’s eyes fluttered. “Sorry. So tired.”

  “You get some rest, Eddie,” Sloane said. “Sal and I will get it all figured out. Don’t worry.”

  They left Eddie drifting off to sleep and returned to the waiting room. When they got there, Sal all but crumpled into one of the chairs, and Sloane took the one next to it.

  “How is he?” Toby asked.

  “They don’t have the test results back yet, but they’re saying they might have to do surgery,” Sloane replied.

  “And he wants me to come back and run the kitchen.” Sal shook his head. “Do you know how many years it’s been since I stood in that diner? There are so many reasons why I turned it over to Eddie.”

  “He must trust you, though, or he wouldn’t have asked you,” Taci said.

  “He trusts me without any good reason to.” Sal shook his head again. “But he’s my brother, my only family. How can I turn him down?”

  “Are you married, Sal?” Toby asked.

  “I was. My sweet Lucille passed away ten years ago. I suppose there’s really nothing keeping me in Denver right now—I could come back to Aspen Ridge until Eddie’s on his feet.”

  “And if Eddie doesn’t get on his feet?” Sloane asked gently. “He may not be able to return to the kitchen after this.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about that,” Sal replied. “I mean, I know I’ll have to make some decisions, but one step at a time.” He exhaled. “All right, I’ll go home and pack enough for a few weeks, and I’ll be there to open tomorrow morning. Are you serving all Eddie’s old classics?”

  “That’s right,” Sloane replied.

  “Well, at least I’ll know what the menu is, even if I don’t know how to make it as good as Eddie. And you two gals will help me?” he asked, looking back and forth between Sloane and Taci.

  “Of course,” they answered almost in unison.

  “All right, then. I’ll see you in the morning.” Sal went back over to the nurses’ station, made sure they had his number in case Eddie needed him, and then waved before walking toward the elevator.

  Chapter Seven

  Toby pulled his car around to the main entrance of the hospital and picked up Sloane and Taci where they waited for him. He’d never seen two girls so devoted to their boss, but then, he’d picked up pretty quickly that the diner wasn’t just a place to eat. It was like a little family. That’s how Frannie’s had been too, until a certain chef had come along. He hoped the diner would pull through this and soon, Eddie would be back in his rightful spot.

  “I need food,” Taci said as they pulled away from the hospital. “Immediately.”

  Toby glanced at the clock on the dash. It had been hours since they’d last had anything to eat—well, he actually hadn’t seen Sloane eat anything at all. “Sit down or drive-through?” he asked.

  “Drive-through,” Taci answered.

  “Sloane? You haven’t put in your two cents,” Toby said.

  She seemed to startle back to focus. “Sorry. Um, I’ll take whatever.”

  Toby turned into the drive-through of the first restaurant he saw and ordered a large meal for each of them. Then he pulled into a stall in the parking lot and passed out the food.

  “Bless your heart,” Taci said as he handed her a large Coke.

  “How are we going to make this work?” Sloane asked. Even though she hadn’t given a topic, her question wasn’t confusing—it had been on Toby’s mind for several minutes, and he imagined it had been for Taci too.

  “Once Sal’s in the kitchen, it will all come back to him,” Taci said reassuringly. “And you can help jog his memory.”

  “Me? I don’t know anything about running that kitchen,” Sloane protested.

  “How much time have you spent chatting with Eddie while he cooks? I’m sure you’ve picked up a lot more than you think you have,” Taci pointed out.

  Toby looked over to see that Sloane hadn’t unwrapped her sandwich yet. “Why don’t you talk it out on the drive back, but eat now?” he suggested. “I’m pretty sure Sloane didn’t get any lunch today.”

  She looked down at the food she held. “You’re right. I’m starved—this whole thing has just blown me away, and I think I forgot how to eat.”

  “Well, it’s generally helpful if you unwrap the sandwich. Otherwise, you get a mouth full of paper,” Toby replied.

  He watched as she got the wrapper off and took her first bite, and then practically inhaled the rest. It was good to see her eating something. Taci might be the one to get wraithlike without food, but he sensed that Sloane needed it more than she let on.

  They finished eating in silence, then gathered up their trash. Toby threw it into a garbage can in the parking lot, and then they headed back toward Aspen Ridge.

  Sloane pressed the palms of her hands into her eye sockets. “Okay, let’s talk this out now. The waitressing schedule should be able to stay pretty much the same, right?”

  “I think that depends on Sal,” Taci replied. “If he needs to be walked through what to do, you’ll need to be there to help him out. I’m pretty much worthless in that department.”

  “There’s so much up in the air. I think that’s what’s stressing me the most.” Sloane shook her head, then turned to Toby. “Thank you again for today. I can’t imagine how boring it must have been for you.”

  “Hey, I finally beat level 401 on Panda Pop, so it wasn’t a total waste of my time.” Toby grinned, trying to lighten the moment, but he didn’t like the look of the dark circles under Sloane’s eyes. Sure, he didn’t know her all that well, but she seemed like an upbeat, happy person, and now she looked weighed down and stressed. He wished there was some way to bring back her happiness, but he supposed that wouldn’t happen until they knew Eddie was going to be all right.

  He couldn’t explain why he cared so much about these people all of a sudden. True, he’d always made friends easily, but there was something about Sloane that had pulled him in right from the start, and Eddie was like a grandpa and a billy goat gruff all at once. And Taci was a hoot—even though she was stressed out of her mind when Eddie collapsed, she had a quick wit and a great way of looking at the world. These were his new friends.

  Well, maybe they weren’t just his friends. He glanced at Sloane again. She’d definitely been flirting when she offered him that cheesecake, and he’d flirted right back. But he’d immediately been able to see beyond the banter to the real woman behind it, and he liked what he saw. Plus, she was dang attractive. That never hurt. But how awkward would it be to ask her out when she was also dating Chef Avery . . . sort of?

  And how even more awkward would it be to ask her out right now, when she’d just been put through an emotional wringer?

  He decided that some things were just better left on the back burner, and he listened to Sloane and Taci discuss the diner on the rest of the drive back to Aspen Ridge.

  ***

  Sal stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking around with awe on his face. “It’s just like it was when our father was here,” he said, almost sounding reverent. “Well, the appliances are new, but everything’s in the same place. Papa would stand there at the grill, and our mama would be over there washing dishes . . .” He cleared his throat. “This brings back so many memories.”

  “You must have opened the diner when Aspen Ridge was a fairly young town,” Sloane commented.

  “Yes, the resort had just been built, and it was much smaller. They’ve added onto it over the years. Main Street only had a few shops. Things were definitely different then.”

  “And did you get settled in upstairs okay?”

  Sal shook his head. “So many memories up there, too. Eddie and I used to play chess at the dining room table, an
d Papa would come upstairs with burgers or pasta for our dinner. And then we started working with him in the kitchen . . .” He cleared his throat again. “I could get lost in the memories, but that won’t do us any good. So, Sloane. Let’s get to work.”

  She grinned. “Are you ready?”

  “Not even slightly. You’ll have to help me.”

  “I can do that.” She paused. “Remember, Sal—Eddie trusts you. You can do this.”

  Sal grabbed a white apron from the shelf where all the clean linen was kept and tied it around his ample middle. “I’ll do my very best.”

  Sloane started the coffee pot, then flipped over the open sign. She’d already hand-lettered a note for the front door telling their customers that Eddie was in the hospital and that prayers were appreciated. In addition to drumming up support for Eddie, she hoped that would on a subconscious level encourage people not to be too critical if things weren’t exactly how they expected them to be. She’d called the food supplier to bring in some cakes and pies—they’d never sold anything but Eddie’s special desserts before, but they were going to have to make some exceptions—and she was keeping her fingers crossed that everything was going to be all right.

  Her first customers were Rory and Morgan, another pair of Aspen Ridge love birds. Nothing started the day off like watching people make eyes at each other over their coffee. They expressed their concern for Eddie and ordered pancakes.

  “You could set up a donation fund at the bank in Eddie’s name,” Rory suggested. “We do stuff like that all the time. Do you know if he has a way to pay his medical bills?”

  “I hadn’t even thought about that,” Sloane said. “I’ve been thinking too much about the diner and hoping Eddie will pull through. Money is stupid.”

  “I agree,” Morgan said. “It’s too bad we all need it so much. I’ve always thought that if we could just be like those island nations that use shells instead of money, we’d be so much better off.”

  “Yeah, but then we’d be sitting here talking about how stupid shells are,” Rory replied, and Sloane laughed.

  “You’re right. No way around it, I guess. I’ll see what I can find out, and maybe we will do that donation account thing. Thanks for the suggestion.”

  Sloane put the order on the wheel and spun it around so Sal could see it. “First one of the day,” she called out.

  “Pancakes. You’ve got it.”

  She’d already told him they sold quite a few pancakes, so he’d been able to get the ingredients ready. Now he added the milk to the premeasured dry ingredients and eggs, then poured the mixture onto the heated griddle. Sloane was trying not to hover, but she was keeping an eye on things, and Sal seemed pretty confident in what he was doing.

  The pancakes looked great when he passed them through the window, and Rory and Morgan gave them a thumbs-up. That was a huge relief. There was a lull of a few minutes, so Sloane grabbed one of the menus and headed back to the kitchen.

  “I thought you might want to look this over and see if there’s anything you don’t remember how to make,” she said. “We could even take those things off the menu, if you’d like.”

  “Thank you,” Sal said, grabbing a towel from the linen stack and wiping his face and forehead. “I think that’s probably a wise idea. I appreciate this, Sloane, more than you know.”

  “I’m just glad you’re willing to step in,” Sloane replied.

  A few more customers came in just then, and while Sal wasn’t nearly as quick as Eddie, he managed to get their plates out before they became impatient. Then four orders came in all at once, and Sloane could see that he was getting a little stressed. It had to be hard, coming back into the diner business all these years, especially when he didn’t care for it in the first place.

  Around ten o’clock, the door opened again, and this time, it was Toby. “Morning,” he called out. “I thought I’d stop by and see if there was anything I could do to help.”

  Sloane was caught off guard by the extra little skip her heart gave when she saw him. The events of the day before flitted across her mind, and she couldn’t help but see how kind he’d been when he really had nothing to gain by it. Add that to the fact that he had just the slightest bit of scruff that morning, and she liked a little bit of scruff . . .

  “Sloane?”

  She blinked. “Hi, Toby. Thanks for stopping by. You know what, I do think Sal might need an extra hand. Why don’t you ask him?”

  As Toby walked past her to enter the kitchen, she said, “And thank you.”

  He grinned. “I’m glad I can help. I work at two, though, so I’ll need to take off at one thirty to get ready.”

  “I appreciate anything and everything you can do.”

  Sal put Toby right to work. Toby didn’t know the recipes, but Sal talked him through what needed to be done, mostly having Toby do the smaller tasks while Sal took care of the larger ones. They seemed to be handling things well between the two of them.

  Until the cheeseburger incident.

  “This burger is still pink inside,” one of the customers said, coming up to the counter and slamming his plate down. “And I don’t mean pink like, gourmet burger pink—I mean pink like still raw.”

  Sloane took a peek. Sure enough …

  “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll have the kitchen prepare you another plate.”

  “I don’t have time for that. I’m on my way to Denver for an important business meeting, and I can’t be late. Just refill my coffee to go, please.”

  Sloane refilled his coffee, told him everything was on the house, and he went on his way, dissatisfied and still hungry. That was horrible. No one should ever leave the diner still hungry. She was about to turn and ask Sal what was up with the burger when someone else brought theirs back too.

  “Sal, what’s going on back here?” she asked after that customer left in a huff. “Two raw burgers in a row.”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t keep track of how long everything’s been on the grill,” he said. “I put something on, and then someone else orders, and so I put theirs on . . . and after a minute, they look the same . . .”

  She glanced over at Toby, who was assembling the burgers after they came off the grill. He gave her a slight shrug.

  “It’s okay, Sal. We’ll make it right. But let’s say that each time you take a burger off, you check the inside, okay? Yeah, some people order them rare, but they should still be cooked even though they’re pink.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, his tone contrite. Even though he was old enough to be Sloane’s grandfather, he acted a bit like a chastened child, and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

  One thirty rolled around, and Toby came out of the kitchen, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, nodding toward a booth in the far corner.

  The lunch crowd had just trickled out, so Sloane had a minute. She slid into the booth across from Toby and smiled. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said. “Today was bound to be super hard on Sal, getting his feet wet and everything, and you really were amazing. I’ll make sure your time is put on the payroll.”

  Toby held up his hand. “No, please don’t. I wanted to help—this was totally volunteer.”

  Sloane blinked with surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m very sure. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t know how long Sal’s going to last. He kept having memory blips—like, he’d be halfway through making something, and he’d stop and just stand there for several seconds, and then he’d blink and look around like he didn’t know where he was.”

  “Really? That sounds a little scary,” Sloane replied. It almost sounded like Sal was having some Alzheimer’s or other sort of problem. She hoped it was just stress and that there wasn’t anything more going on.

  “Yeah. I thought you’d want to know.” He looked down at the table and then back up. “Anyway, I need to get going,
but I’ll come back tomorrow, if you’ll let me.”

  “Toby, I don’t know. I love having you here—” Okay. That was awkward. Um . . . “Your help has been so valuable.” That was better. “But I don’t know how I feel about accepting it for free. Eddie would have kittens if I told him.”

  “Then don’t tell him.” Toby grinned. “Listen, maybe I love me being here too.”

  He met her gaze, and she couldn’t help but blush. Great. That wasn’t obvious at all. She liked the fact that they were flirting . . . she liked it a lot . . . but she didn’t need to be so girly about it, did she? She did have some pride, after all.

  “So I’ll see you tomorrow.” Toby laid his hand over hers where it rested on the table, and she blushed again, and she decided that maybe blushing wasn’t so terrible. She also decided that pride wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  Chapter Eight

  Toby had to race home, leap into the shower, shave really fast, and almost speed to get to Frannie’s on time. He clocked in exactly at two, and tried to look calm as he went to work preparing the dining room for dinner. This was probably going to be a really long day, but it would be worth it—being able to help Sal, seeing the gratitude on Sloane’s face, knowing Eddie could rest more comfortably—it all felt really good.

  His thoughts circled right back to Sloane. He’d taken several peeks at her through the pass-through window that day, and he liked what he saw. Her easy way with the customers, her genuine concern for their satisfaction, the way she helped a young mother juggle three small children into their booster seats and cleaned up their horrible messes afterward—she had a good soul. It didn’t hurt anything, either, that she was so pretty, and smart, and he liked making her blush. That was fun.

  Chef Avery seemed to be in a fairly good mood as the evening started out. He asked how Eddie was, although he couldn’t remember Eddie’s name, and he seemed concerned about Sloane’s welfare. But when a customer requested no garlic on the lemon garlic chicken because of an allergy, he became a little testy.