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I had left my suit jacket in the car, but I typically wore slacks and dress shirts. I rolled up my sleeves and accepted the apron with bright red strawberries printed all over it. It was a little too small and a lot feminine, but I didn’t care. It was better than getting chili splashed all over me.
“Wear these,” the woman ordered.
I took the clear safety goggles. “What exactly am I doing?” I asked with real concern. The glasses looked like something you would wear if you were going swimming.
“It keeps you from crying,” she said with a smile. “They ain’t pretty, but it’s better than chopping your finger because you can’t see through the tears.”
“I imagine that’s something you learn through trial and error.”
She laughed and patted my arm. “I’ve been working in kitchens a good forty years. You pick up a few things.”
“Thanks for the insider information,” I said.
I got busy chopping the large bag of onions. The goggles helped. I didn’t care that I looked ridiculous in my goggles that were probably leaving some serious indentions on my face and the goofy apron. I was minding my own business, ignoring the bulk of the gossip buzzing around me. My mom made sure everyone knew I was her son. I could tell she was proud and that made me happy. I wanted her to be proud of me.
The back door opened, and I heard a voice I recognized. It took me a second to realize it was Macy.
Macy was here? Visual confirmation came a moment later. Macy hugged the woman that had given me the goggles. She hugged all the women, including my mother.
“Jon, I’d like you to meet—” Mom started.
“Macy Stiles,” I said.
“Jon?” Macy looked at me with a smirk.
“Do you know each other?” My mother looked at me. Maybe it was the look on Macy’s face that clued my mother in. She looked at me with her eyes wide. “Wait! Is thistheMacy? The woman you’ve been going on about?”
Macy looked both shocked and amused. “You’re Jon’s mother?” she asked with a laugh.
“I am!”
“I had no idea Rebecca was your mother,” Macy said.
“And I didn’t realize my Macy was your Macy,” my mother said, laughing. “She’s a doll. I love this young lady. She’s been working with us for years. Her mother as well. Where is your mom tonight?”
I stood watching them talk like they were best friends. This was a nightmare. This was one of those dreams you had when you ate too many spicy tacos before bed.
“She’s all yours,” Mom said with a smile and walked away. “I like her. I approve!”
I could feel my cheeks burning. It took very little for my mother to make me feel like a little boy. She didn’t mean it, but she always saw me as her little kid. I could have gray hair and walk with a cane and she would see me as her baby.
Macy made a big point of looking me up and down. “Cute.”
I figured I may as well just lean into it now. “I was hoping for apples, but I guess strawberries work.”
She pointed at her eyes. “I think it’s the goggles that really make the look.”
“A very wise woman told me they would keep me from watery eyes while I chopped onions.”
She nodded. “I guess style doesn’t matter when it comes to chopping onions.”
“We need those onions!”
“Oops, I’m in trouble.” I grinned. “I have a few more onions I need to get chopped.”
“I think I’m in charge of mixing a million boxes of cornbread,” she said, laughing.
“You’ve been volunteering here for a while?” I asked while I chopped.
