I tried to sound knowledgeable as I recalled Mamm’s delicious potato soup. “Just my opinion, but it needs salt and seasoning. And next time, maybe start with chicken stock and add chopped onion and fried bacon or diced ham.”
Stephen sampled a mouthful. “This is blah. Can you doctor it up right now, Eva?”
I surveyed the spice rack and found basil, but not much else. “At this late stage, salt and pepper might be the best I can do, unless one of you girls will chop and sauté onion and celery and dice a little bit of ham.”
But at this moment there wasn’t time to do much but add the salt and pepper.
“Why, look at this darling place,” came a female’s brassy-toned voice with a Southern accent. “Cute as can be. And I’m starving.”
I left the kitchen and saw half a dozen more Englisch women strolling in.
“Put in your orders up here,” Stephen said, having followed me. He handed Sadie a pad of paper. “Ready to dive in, Eva?”
“But I haven’t unpacked.”
He shot me a dubious look. “Plenty of time for that later.” He poured a mug of coffee and positioned himself at a nearby table.
“Y’all go ahead and order. I’ll save us a table.” One woman, pleasantly wide at the girth, draped a paisley jacket over a chair by the pond. “Look, everyone, they have koi.” But the other women had flocked to the front counter and were staring into the glass case.
“Separate checks?” Sadie asked.
“Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.” The woman pointed to coleslaw, pasta salad, and broccoli salad. “I’ll take the three-salad plate and a blueberry muffin with butter.”
“And to drink?”
“Coffee.” She brought out her wallet. “No, make that hot tea.”
After the woman paid, Sadie handed her an empty mug and produced a basket of tea bags. “Please choose a tea bag and then serve yourself hot water. And get a napkin and flatware.” She pointed out the table housing the hot water carafe. “We’ll get your order right out to you.”
“I’ll follow you,” Jennifer said to the woman.
I stood off to the side, watching Jennifer spoon mounds of salad onto a plate and then select a muffin and a pat of butter to put on a smaller plate while Sadie took the next order.
“How’s your soup?” another woman asked me.
“Want to give it a taste?” I asked.
“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll take a bowl, and a ham and Swiss on rye, heavy on the mayonnaise and mustard. And iced tea.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With Sadie’s assistance, I rang up her order and processed her charge card.
Within minutes all the orders were in. Sadie and I assembled sandwiches while Jennifer served salads and muffins and ladled soup.
Jennifer grinned at me. “Sure is nice having ya here.”
“Denki.” I sighed at the prospect of spending the rest of the afternoon inside serving and preparing food.
Stephen got to his feet and moved toward me. “You’re doing great, Eva.”
“Thanks.” I’d executed every task with ease. I’d even sprinkled grated Parmesan cheese over the soup to liven it up.
Ten minutes later, I watched Jennifer take desserts to the tables.
“Tomorrow is Jennifer’s last day,” Stephen said.
I couldn’t disguise my look of surprise.
“Don’t think you and Sadie can handle it?”
“Maybe if someone came in to bus tables and wash dishes.” I glanced into the kitchen at a dishwasher and a wide metal sink stacked with soiled plates and coffee mugs.
“Ach,” Sadie said. “We let things get behind.” She got busy emptying the dishwasher.
“Can you work for a few more days?” Stephen asked Jennifer as she strode by with some cleared dishes.
“Nee, I’m sorry. Just tomorrow.”
“I’ll have to hire someone,” he told me. Stephen caught me staring at the clock on the wall. Already two o’clock, and I hadn’t unpacked. Or had lunch. But I wasn’t hungry.
“We serve food only until three this time of year,” he told me. “We leave the place open, cover the cases, and let our customers serve their own tea and coffee on the honor system. Since you’re here right now, will you stick around should another group show up? You’re doing great. Better than great.”
“Denki.” So I’d nailed the job. Not the job of my dreams, but an occupation many women would adore. Maybe a single man my age would saunter into the café tomorrow and ask me out. Too bad Stephen was Mennonite…
“Sure.” I shot him a grin. “It’s not as if I have anywhere to go other than touring the nursery.” Which I would love to do.
“I bet we can find someone to help clear and wash dishes.” Stephen pivoted toward the door.
“Luke?” Sadie said. “My little bruder’s looking for a job after school.”
Stephen turned back to her. “He’s already committed to helping us plant seedlings. I’ll think of someone—”
Sadie hurried over to Stephen and spoke sotto voce. “Please, not the housekeeper. She was hinting that she wants to work here until the Yoders return.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Stephen said. “I’ve known Beatrice Valenti for a long time. She’s a good friend of Glenn’s, and she’s a widow.”
“She’s grumpy. And she’s so old.” Sadie covered her mouth. She appeared to have plenty more complaints on her mind, but she must have known it was sinful to malign others.
Sadie sent me a furtive glance. I wondered exactly how old this widow was. She had apparently read my mind. “She’s at least your mamm’s age, Eva. She grew up around here, and she’s of Italian descent. But she can speak some Deitsch, so beware of what you say.”
“I remember her from the fabric shop where I worked,” I said. When Beatrice browsed there, she’d looked right through me and chosen to work with another saleswoman. But I still would have gone to her husband’s funeral if I hadn’t been sick.
“And she’s related to Rose Yoder’s aunt,” Stephen said. “My boss has been wanting to help Beatrice out since her husband died several years ago. She lives in the big house and looks after their baby girl. While they’re out of town,
