I got off the phone with Ira and cursed under my breath. I didn’t have anyone I could call to fill her position on such short notice. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her that she couldn’t stay home and take care of her ailing father. I pushed away from my desk and walked through the kitchen. I felt Jason’s stare on me as I walked over to the changing room and grabbed an apron. I tied it around my waist and plucked an order pad from the windowsill, then started out onto the floor to take orders.

It didn’t take long for someone to recognize me.

“Hello there. My name is—”

“Clay Holmes? Oh my god, is that you? Honey, it’s Clay. It’s Clay! The rumors were true. He’s running the restaurant.”

I smiled at the older couple as the woman kept slapping her husband.

“I see that, honey,” the man said.

“Yes, I’ve taken over the restaurant. Are there any drinks I can interest you in?” I asked.

“Sweetie, your parents were wonderful. You know that? Deb would always come by on the weekends when she wasn’t working and bring my granddaughters little treats from the restaurant for them,” the woman said.

“One of our grandkids is a fan of the desserts here. Bernie always split one with her,” the man said.

“And she was always at the hospital volunteering with me. I mean, I don’t know where the woman found the time,” she said.

“I didn’t catch your names,” I said.

“Oh, I’m so rude. I’m Clarice Mayfield, and this is my husband. Jackson,” she said.

Sally Mayfield.

The note from the wreath.

“It’s very nice to meet you both,” I said.

“You know, your father was always up for a round of golf with me. No one likes playing with me because I always kick their asses. But your father was always a good sport about it,” Jackson said.

“He cheats,” Clarice mouthed.

“I heard that,” he said.

“I literally didn’t make a sound,” she said.

I listened as the two of them went back and forth. It tickled my funny bone watching them interact together. But the more they talked, the more of a glimpse I caught of my parents’ influence in this community. What a pillar they were. The lives they’d touched. The generations they’d interacted with. All of them, having some sort of a table or a seat at the one place that united this community.

Deb’s Dine-In.

It made me very proud to call them my parents.

“I would love to take your orders, if you’re ready,” I said.

“You’re going to do just fine in this restaurant. I can feel it,” Clarice said.

I felt it, too.

I really did.

After taking their order, I went back into the kitchen and passed it off. I walked out and grabbed their drinks: two waters without ice and lots of lemons. I sliced three entire lemons up for them before taking it all to their table. Then, I took three more orders before heading back into the kitchen.

“Where’s Ira?” Jason asked.

I stuck the tickets on the window for him to see.

“She’s at home with her father today,” I said.

“She’s on the schedule to work,” he said.

“And she called in because her father is sick, so I gave her the day off.”

“After having yesterday off, too.”

“It’s none of your business where she is, Jason. Now get to work. You’ve got tickets,” I said.

“I know you’re playing favorites,” he said.

I slowly panned my gaze up to meet his.

“Want to try that again?” I asked.

“Sure. No problem. I know Ira’s your favorite. You treat the rest of us like dirt, but you practically kiss the ground she walks on.”

“Get back to work.”

“It’ll come out eventually. And this restaurant will go under because of it.”

“Back to work, Jason,” I commanded.

“If you think you’re going to be her favorite, too, then you haven’t seen the way she turns down men in this area,” he said.

I whipped around and glared at the man, watching him take a step back.

“I’m not going to deal with this right now. Either you get to work, or you hang up your hat and get the hell out of this restaurant,” I growled.

“Or what?”

“Order up!” one the cooks yelled out.

I slipped the plates off the shelf, eyeing Jason’s snarling grin. Strike three. I’d had enough of that asshole, anyway. I put a smile on my face and walked out into the main floor, handing over the two plates of food. I strode over and got a pitcher, refilling their sweet teas before I made my way back into the kitchen. We were almost out of tea, and I needed to make another batch.

But instead, I found Jason hanging up his uniform.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Cutting out. That’s the lunch rush. No one will come in until dinner,” Jason said.

“Your shift isn’t over for another hour. Get back in that kitchen.”

“And waste my time? No, thanks,” he said.

I gripped his arm as he passed by me.

“You are this close to losing your job. Now, I’m trying very hard to see what my parents saw in you when they hired you. But you’re making it incredibly hard,” I said.

“Let go of me, or I’ll report you to the Better Business Bureau for mishandling your employees physically,” he growled.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I let go of his arm.

“Get that uniform back on and finish out your shift like a decent man,” I said.

“Sorry, boss. No can do,” Jason said.

“And why not?”

He held out his arms as he walked backward out the exit door behind the restaurant.

“Dad’s not feeling well. That’s a viable excuse here, right?” he asked.