AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Calzone Day needs to be perfect. It's a staple holiday at Mohagen’s, and has been since my grandfather first built it here in Candy Cane Key. My father, Rebel, inherited it from him, and when he married mother, they took it over. Their wedding reception was hosted here, all six of us were raised in these kitchens, and took afternoon naps in the booth. The sign needs to be perfect. We can’tnothave Calzone Day.
With everyone back to doing their business, I make sure the till is stocked, and flick the Open light on, before grabbing my green apron and joining my mother in the kitchen.
“Roman Mohagen,” She says my name sternly, and I make sure to give her my full attention. “Don’t be so hard on Joseph. The boy is doing fine, and who your sister loves is who she loves.”
At fifty-two my mother doesn’t look a day over thirty. Her olive tan skin gleams while she throws pepperonis on the fresh- made pizzas. Her light blue eyes sparkle with mischief, despite her attempt at being stern. I love my mom. She has carried on every tradition of the family, even after our father unexpectedly passed away five years ago. In his absence, I have tried to fulfill his duties to the restaurant, and also in protecting my sisters and making sure they remember how strong, beautiful, and capable they are.
“She can love him all she wants. If the man can’t spell Calzone, I have a hard time promoting his job title,” I shrug at her, refusing to apologize.
She sighs, and goes about adding more toppings, while I grab the dough and start kneading it. “Roman, not every man needs to live up to your standards. Despite what you think, your sisters aren’t perfect, they all have flaws just like we do. Joseph might seem simple to you, but he is the exact type of mellow that Romi needs. Your sister gets wound up very easily, and she tends to take on everything, even when her glass is filled to the brim.”
I push the dough around on the table, stretching it and breaking it off, while contemplating her words. “I know mom. I just think that if he’s too weak to handle what I give him, he isn’t enough for my sister. I want him to fight so I know he’ll fight for her. It's what dad would have wanted.”
Our eyes meet over the huge table island, and I see tears shine in hers. My parents loved each other more than anything. Mom always told us their love story was one for the ages. My dad doted on my mom, spoiled her, and spoiled all of us. He used to say the minute he first saw our mom, it felt like a truck smacked him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. It was fast, sudden, and he knew right then he couldn’t let her get away. Before he passed, we had just had a conversation about waiting until I felt that way about a woman before settling down. No matter how long I had to wait, I needed that feeling.
“No man would have been good enough for any of your sisters,” Mom jokes, discreetly wiping her eyes before throwing the first pizza of the day into the oven. I reach behind us and ding the bell in the window.
“Pie time!” The few patrons in the restaurant cheer and clap, and the jukebox turns on.
The first pizza in the oven is everyone’s favorite part of the day. From the morning on, we are busy. Tables are constantly full, over the dinner hour there is a line out the door. Candy Cane Key is a huge tourist area, not just a spot for locals. We are often swamped for traditional holidays, and even the holidays one might not realize is a thing. Just like Calzone Day. Which is another reason our family takes so much pride in it.
By the time the door closes, and the sign is flipped off, I’m exhausted. The evening staff clean up their stations, and the kitchen is stocked for tomorrow.
“Do you want me to stay and mop the floor?” Remi asks, and I shake my head at her.
“No. Go home. Don’t you open tomorrow?”
She laughs humorlessly, “Yup. I picked up a shift for Rumer so she could make her doctor’s appointment. I don’t mind though. I should get about six hours of sleep before I have to be back here.”
I frown at her, “Oh to be young.”
“Shut up, bro,” Her little fist hits my shoulder, “You’re younger than me. Shouldn’t you be tearing it up at the bars after work?”
I glance around the restaurant, pride filling my chest. “Nah, I’m where I am supposed to be.”
I slide my arm around her and we head towards the front door, right as we hear a squealing of tires and crunching metal. My head swivels towards the glass window. I’m blinded by a set of headlights coming right at us. I grab Remi and push her behind the counter, shielding her body with mine. The earth feels like it shakes beneath us. Glass shatters, booths break, more metal on metal shifts. The noise feels like it goes on forever, until there is just silence.
My lungs fight to take in air with all the adrenaline coursing in my system. I glance into the sitting room where a maroon car’s bumper is sitting inside the restaurant, the window broken around it. The horn is honking, and all I can see is the deployed airbag.
“Call 9–1-1,” I tell Remi and walk towards the car.
“Wait!” A woman’s voice calls. Hands reach the dashboard. I stop moving as her small, lithe body slides over the front of the car. She’s coughing, and I see the trail of blood on her forehead.
“We’re calling the cops. You need an ambulance,” I warn her, grabbing her hands and helping her to the ground. She sways slightly, and I take in her short black dress, high heels and the gaudy diamond necklace around her neck. She screams tourist, and I would bet money that she just came from a costume party, and decided to drive drunk.
“That's fine,” She manages to say, and hands me an old-school flip phone, “Use this one.”
I take it from her, my brow raised. Annoyance is replacing the initial shock in my chest. The restaurant is a disaster. The phone rings and I give instructions to the lady on dispatch.
“Sorry to crash in,” the woman turns to me, and I can’t help the scowl on my lips.
“That's a shit joke.”
Her long blonde hair swirls around when she shakes her head, “I wasn’t being funny. I’ll happily pay for any damages.”
Of fucking course. She’s probably some socialite from the mainland who is visiting on vacation. They’re all the same, thinking everything is fixed with money. She just destroyed years of memories people have had in that booth. The glass was the original that was put in when my grandfather built it. It's priceless, and this princess just destroyed it.
“Unless you have a time machine, that won’t be possible,” I tell her, letting the ice in my tone brush over her. Sirens are making their way towards us. Without acknowledging her again, I step around her, taking Remi with me, and go out front to meet the officers. I can’t wait to see her slide into the back of the car. It might be the only form of enjoyment I get from today.
