me think of the bread guy in his truck.
âWell, fast killinâ or slow, I told her itâs the food chain,â A.J. continued. âThis snot nose never heard of that.â
âWe donât need name-calling,â I said.
âItâs okay,â Dani told me. âI called her something worse first.â
A.J. made a parting face, grabbed her order, and left. Dani took more time gathering her plates and balancing them. She seemed to have a knack for that, at least.
âIâm sorry,â she said as she worked, âbut I just hate it when creatures suffer. I donât mean, like, snakes and flies and lobsters, but cute ones. It really does break my heart.â
The sadness in her voice, in her eyes, made me feel like I was watching a young girl say a permanent good-bye to her imaginary friends.
âYou know,â I said, âmaybe you should rethink the fact that youâre working in a deli. We do slice and serve a lot of meat here.â
âI want to work here,â Dani said. âIâm here for a purpose.â
âYou mean . . . what, exactly? Like Godâs purpose? Is it part of a plan?â I wondered if I should make sure all our meat cleavers were secure.
âI really have to serve these meals,â she said. âBut I think maybe one reason Iâm here is to make sure thereâs more tofu on the menu so we donât have to corn so much beef.â
âI see.â I did, too. âTell you what. Do some brainstorming. Come up with a few vegan dishes for the deli.â
Daniâs eyes lost their sadness as she turned to go. âFor real?â
âAs real as wheat gluten duck,â I replied.
âThanks, Nash. You wonât be sorry!â
âAnd donât forget open mic night!â Luke shouted from the kitchen. âWe need that, too!â
I was heading toward the deli entrance to help Thom bus the tables when I noticed an out-of-place older woman across the street. You couldnât miss her. She was wearing a large black hat with a brim that covered half her face, sunglasses that covered most of the other half, and a tight, formfitting black dress, black tights, and black heels. At first I thought she was squinting to read our deli hours painted on the front door, but her phantom gaze seemed to fall directly on me as I moved throughout the deli. Trancelike, transfixed, as if she were a black widow spider, I opened the front door to see who it was. But when I stepped outside, a brief flare of sunlight on the glass speared my eyes; when it cleared, the woman had vanished.
âSomethinâ wrong?â
It was Thom, at my ear.
âNo,â I said. âI thought . . . I saw someone.â
âYou thought you saw someone?â
âI thought I saw someone who was looking at me,â I said, making a hash of my attempt to clarify the situation. âNever mind.â
âBoss lady, I really think you need to take some time off. And I donât mean just a stroll down the block. I mean some time. â
âYeah, maybe,â I agreed. âAfter the Best in Nashville thing.â
âYou donât need to be there,â Thom said. âBrownnosing the committee isnât going to help. Everyone will be doing it.â
âI know. But I have to keep busy. Otherwise, my brain goes bang, back to the bread truck.â
Thom shook her head. âYou gotta learn to think happy thoughts.â
âIâm a New York Jewish woman,â I said.
âSo?â
âIf you knew more of us, youâd understand what a challenge you just presented.â
Thom shook her head again.
âTell you what, though,â I said. âIâm gonna take a drive. Iâm not sure if Iâll be back before closing. You got things?â
âA drive where?â she demanded.
âJust out,â I lied.
âYouâre lying.â
âI know,â I said.
The head shaking
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