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She raised her chin, suddenly resolute. “If you folks will give me a few minutes, I’ll have your food ready.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ruth, we can wait.” Angel smiled and gave her a quick thumbs-up.
Ruth nodded, then turned toward the kitchen, pushing the door open with a flat hand.
Liam looked back at Peaches, hoping she wasn’t too flummoxed.
She shook her head. “That poor woman.”
“Ruth?” he asked hopefully. Surely she wasn’t sympathizing with Barbara Jean.
Peaches nodded. “That was an awful thing to do, walking out in the middle of service. Totally unprofessional. And now Ruth’s got to figure out the orders and figure out how far along they were when that woman walked out. That’s just…awful.”
“Right.” He took another bite of his sandwich. He wasn’t sure where she was heading with this, but he was willing to ride along.
“We have to help her.” Peaches pushed herself to her feet, dropping her napkin on the chair.
We do? Interesting idea, particularly since it meant giving Peaches a view of the kitchen. He wasn’t a cook himself, but he’d been around a lot of restaurant kitchens and he knew enough to stay out of the way. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Ruth glanced up as they marched into the kitchen, her jaw tight. “Do you need something?”
“We’re here to help,” Peaches announced. “Which orders need to be completed? I can do the grill work, but I don’t know the sandwiches.”
“If you do the grill work, that’ll help a lot. I can do the sandwiches and salads.” Ruth nodded at Liam. “Can you expedite?”
He nodded. “Yeah, sure. Can the waitress do the drinks?”
“Yeah.” She glanced at the orders clipped to the ticket holder. “Just read the tickets off and post them here as they come in.”
Peaches peered over her shoulder. “Two burgers and a grilled cheese. I’m on it.”
Ruth sighed. “And let’s pray for a patient bunch of customers.”
The next hour and a half weren’t exactly the most pleasant of Liam’s life, but they were definitely interesting. Once he and Peaches got oriented in the kitchen so that they knew where things were, they were able to keep up with the demand. Posting the tickets didn’t take up a lot of time, so he started doing prep, chopping and dicing and bringing things out of the pantry as needed. He was back to being a runner, a job he hadn’t held since he was in high school.
Oddly enough, there seemed to be more orders coming into the kitchen after the three of them took over than before. He took a peek out at the dining room. Every table was full at one in the afternoon, when the rush was normally beginning to slack off.
Word must have gotten out about Barbara Jean’s exit. People came in for lunch out of curiosity and sympathy, and probably because they figured they’d get a better meal than they had when Barbara Jean was in charge. Ruth was definitely a better cook, and the presence of Peaches in the kitchen practically guaranteed good eats.
Fleetingly, he wondered where Carol was. She hadn’t been in the kitchen when they’d arrived, although she’d clearly been there earlier, judging from Barbara Jean’s tantrum. The kitchen had a door that led out to the alley at the back of the building that was used for deliveries—he was betting that was the source of Carol’s quick exit. Also her original entry, since he hadn’t seen her in the dining room when they’d come in.
Finally, at one thirty, the rush began to slack off. There were still a few customers wandering into the deli to check out the drama, even though all the real fireworks were very much over. Liam found his salvaged sandwich, which he’d carefully rewrapped before he became a general kitchen assistant.
Ruth shook her head as she saw him pick it up. “Let me make you another one of those. That one’s probably all soggy by now. It’s the least I can do, since the two of you gave up your lunch to help out.”
Peaches leaned back against the counter, studying the kitchen as Ruth pulled out the tub of goat cheese she’d been using for the sandwiches. “This is a really nice set-up. Do you bake your own pastries, too?”
