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“So, what’s going on?” Jason asked. “Any more cooking contests planned?”
“On tonight’s episode ofIron Chef: Montana,” Rick intoned in his best television announcer voice. “It’s Round Two of Small-Town Chef versus Big-City Chef in Battle Huckleberry!”
Everyone laughed.
“I’ll drink to that,” Brock said, grinning. He raised his mug of root beer in salute. “To Round Two. And may Small-Town Chef triumph this time.”
“Hell, yeah!” They all drank.
A server delivered two large everything pizzas to the table, loaded with sliced ham, pepperoni, nuggets of Italian sausage, ground beef, onion, bell pepper, mushrooms, and olives. They smelled heavenly.
“Is there going to be another contest?” asked Jason as they all dug in. “The one last month was a blast.”
“We’re talking about it,” Brock confirmed. “I need the chance to redeem myself after tanking in Round One. Maybe after we finish re-doing the dining room.”
“You’re finally updating the place? Hallelujah!” Evie asked. “I bet that was Summer’s doing.”
“Yeah,” Brock admitted. “She got her future brother-in-law, the one who works with Winnie on that TV show, to send us some design ideas. I won’t lie, I was worried, but I think it’s gonna look great when we’re done. It’s still going to be homey and welcoming, just not as, well,brown.”
“Or dingy,” Evie suggested. “Or dusty?” She shook her head. “The food’s great, Brock, but your place is a shrine to everything bad from 1972.”
Brock glared at her. “Funny, that’s what Summer said.”
Everyone laughed.
“Anyhow, we’re trying to save money by doing the work ourselves,” Brock continued. He hoped his friends would catch the hint.
“Sounds great!” Evie said. “What kinds of changes are you guys going to be making?”
Brock briefly described the items on the to-do list that Geoff had sent along with the mockups. “…it’s a lot to get done,” he concluded, “but we’re hoping that we’ll only have to close the diner for a couple of days.” Now came the hard part. He swallowed his pride, and added, “I could really use a hand next week, if anyone has time.”
“Of course,” said Jason. “I can help you reconfigure your booths and turn them into banquettes. Plus, figure out the reclaimed wood wainscoting and breakfast counter siding.”
“I drove out to the Snowberry ranch yesterday,” Brock said. “There’s an old barn that Mr. Snowberry said I could scavenge. Spring and I loaded up my truck and his with a ton of old boards. There’s a towering pile of them in the diner’s parking lot.”
“Cool! I’ll bring my table saw!” said Evie. “And my staple guns. You’re gonna need a few of those if you’re reupholstering all the stools and benches, too.”
“And I’ll rope my dad and brothers into coming with me,” added Rick. “If you’re putting in a bunch of pendant lights to replace your fluorescents, you’re gonna need some help with wiring the new lamps.”
Relieved, Brock released a pent-up breath. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. This makeover is a big job.”
“Since we’re discussing changes at the diner,” said Jason, “I heard you promoted Auntie Marlene to manager. What happened to Mr. Stinson? I’ve been hearing all kinds of rumors flying around.”
Rumors? Shit. “Oh yeah?” asked Brock.
“My great-uncle Kenny is spitting mad about losing his job,” Rick said. “He blames Summer. He says she badmouthed him and got you to fire him.”
“What the actual fuck?” Brock snapped. “None of that’s true.”
Rick shrugged. “You know Uncle Kenny. He likes to stir up shit. I figured there was more to the story than he’s telling.”
“First of all, Summer had nothing to do whatsoever to do with Kenny leaving the diner,” Brock said vehemently. “And I didn’t fire Kenny.”
Rick looked surprised. “You didn’t?”
“Hell, no. He quit in a huff after I called him out for fucking up the supplier orders for the third week in a row. A few days later, he asked for his job back. I said no because of the mess he made of the inventory system and bookkeeping software.” Brock shook his head. “Jesus. It’s so fucking unfair for him to blame Summer when all this happened before she even showed up. I swear to you—what happened was all on Kenny.”
He slammed down his mug of root beer and noticed that his friends were all grinning at him.
