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I found a notepad, scribbled a note about the food, and then left.
On the way out, I paused in one of the bedroom doorways. There was a bunk labeled “Lloyd,” which was Jordan’s last name. Next to the bed was an art easel holding a blank canvas, and a box of paints were on the floor next to it. Was that Jordan’s, or did it belong to the bunk next to his? That one was labeled Heath. Taylor Heath, the blond probationary firefighter.
“I shouldn’t be snooping,” I muttered, then hurried out of the garage to my car.
“What took you so long!” mom complained when I got back to the restaurant. “There’s another delivery waiting!”
“Sorry! The guys got a call and had to run, so I boxed their food up for them.” I collected the waiting delivery order and paused. “Mom, I have a favor to ask. Can I get off fifteen minutes early?”
“Early? Why?” she barked from the kitchen.
“I kind of… have a date.”
Her head slowly peered around the massive pizza oven. “A date? With who?”
“Jordan Lloyd. One of the firemen.”
A huge smile split her face. “My daughter is going out with a fireman!”
I groaned. “Mom. It’s not a big deal.”
The little Italian woman opened the oven and inserted a pizza. “Not a big deal, she says to me!” She closed the oven and whirled toward me. “Now you will give me grandchildren!”
“Jason and Maurice already gave you a grandson,” I pointed out. They had adopted a little boy named LeBron, named after my brother-in-law’s favorite basketball player.
“They only have one,” Mom said, beaming. “I wantmore. Give me all the grandchildren to love!”
“It’s one date. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Mom wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to the counter to greet a customer. “Welcome to Tony’s Pizza. My daughter has a date with afireman.”
I rolled my eyes and hurried out to make my next delivery.
The rest of the night was a blur of activity. I had two more deliveries, and after the last one I swung by the house to get my hair straightener and a change of clothes—nothing fancy, just clean jeans and a blouse. Finally, the dinner rush died down around eight-thirty. I went into the back room, cleaned myself off as best as I could, and changed into my new clothes.
I was straightening my hair when the front door opened at eight-fifty.
He’s early,I thought frantically. I wasn’t ready yet—I needed more time! But when I poked my head out from the back, I saw a college-aged guy standing at the counter.
“Welcome to Tony’s Pizza,” I called to him, putting down my straightener and then approaching the counter. “We’re closing in ten minutes, but…”
“That’s okay,” the guy said. He looked stoned. “I need four extra-larges. Two pepperoni, one meat-lovers, and one Hawaiian.”
I groaned.Technicallywe accepted orders all the way until nine. But for an order this size, mom would need my help.
“Four extra-larges…” I said, writing it down on an order sheet.
Mom came stomping out of the kitchen. “No! We are closing!”
“Uhh.” The stoner guy looked at his phone. “But it’s, like, not even nine. And your website says you close atnine.”
“The website is not the owner!” Mom scolded. “I am the owner! And I am telling you we are closing early! My daughter has a date!”
“Mom…” I hissed.
The stoner groaned. “Ugh. Chill out. I’ll go to Pizza Hut.”
“I could have helped you with the order,” I told my mom.
