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Ivy’s eyes sparkled before she spoke. “That wasn’t Mason. Lance and Brittany came up with it.”
I raised a brow while I finished chewing. “Really? They’ve been collaborating on a lot of recipes lately.”
“He’s so good with her,” Ivy agreed. “It’s got me thinking.”
“Oh no,” I said, lowering my fork. “About what?”
“Lance’s place here at the diner.”
“I thought that was decided. He wants to cook, Ivy. That’s what makes him happy.”
She held up her hand to stem my tirade. “I know, and he would be cooking, but he would also be teaching.”
“Teaching?”
“Yes, teaching more kids like Brittany how to work in a kitchen so they have skills to go out and get a job at a restaurant.”
“Teach them by doing?” I asked confused. “You know he can’t write.”
“No, he can’t, but he can make videos. I haven’t worked it all out yet, but I’m talking to Cameron about it. Cameron is adding a full kitchen to the farm store, so the training doesn’t have to happen here. It would be in a controlled environment with no distractions, which is important when you’re teaching kids how to use dangerous equipment.”
“You’re saying it would be like the bakery training, only for cooking.”
She pointed at me before she accepted a bite of pancakes from Lucy. I took another bite of my French toast and thought it over. My heart light even if there was a little heaviness in my belly.
“I mean, Lance would be the perfect person for the job since he can put himself in the place of needing to learn differently than the rest of society. I just hope he doesn’t say no out of insecurity without thinking about it first.”
“Once Cameron and I have it figured out, I’ll talk to him about it,” she said, wiping Lucy’s face of the sticky syrup. “But this time, I’ll include you in the discussion. You’re good at keeping him grounded and focused in those types of situations.”
“As long as I can be honest with him beforehand that I know what’s going on and that he should listen and consider.”
“Of course. I don’t want him to be blindsided and take it out on you again. That was never my intention the first time.”
“After the holidays?”
“Cameron is hoping to start it after the New Year, so I do need to talk to Lance soon and find out if he’s interested. If he is, then I need to look for a part-time cook to pick up some of his hours to free him up.”
“Maybe hire Brittany to take on those hours?” I suggested, pushing my now empty plate away. “Is she ready for that kind of responsibility?”
“You know,” she said, tapping her chin. “That’s not a bad idea. I could schedule her during less busy times, so she wouldn’t get overwhelmed. She knows the menu like the back of her hand since she does prep. She’s worked alongside Lance and Mason for years, but I would probably still hire another part-time cook to work with her during those hours. She doesn’t have a job coach anymore since she’s become self-sufficient here at the diner. However, this would be a new position so it would take her some time to adjust.”
Lucy snuggled up to her mom’s side and closed her eyes, the pancakes filling her belly and making her sleepy. “Cookies,” she whispered, her little hands trying to clap as she fell into sleep.
Ivy stroked her hair and smiled at her daughter, the love she had for the little girl written across her face. “I’ll wake you up for cookies, sweet baby,” she whispered.
“It’s kind of early for a nap,” I said, eyeing her. “Is she getting ill.”
“No, she hasn’t slept well the last few nights. She’s getting molars and she’s been miserable. We’ll let her rest for a bit before we go over to the bakery. How are things with your arm?”
I lifted the cast and shrugged. “Inconvenient but not the end of the world.”
“And your side? You have to be careful, so you don’t pull the stitches.”
I chuckled. “Thank you, Dr. Ivy. I’m being careful and taking things slow. It doesn’t hurt and neither does my forehead. The stitches should come out next week and then I’ll be stuck with the cast for a few more weeks. After that, it will be a thing of the past.”
“Well, Workman’s Comp will cover it all, so make sure all the bills go there.”
I tipped my head. “You can’t make Workman’s Comp pay for Brenda’s drunken attack.”
