Page 16 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
“Caitlin, tell us about your new job.” Lauren says when there’s a break in the conversation.
I clear my throat. “I got a job as a cook at Rosie’s Diner, starting on Monday.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Gerald raises his glass. “Well, that’s just fine. Congratulations.”
Adam squeezes my knee under the table. “Caitlin’s an amazing cook. They’re lucky to have her.”
Paula’s fork pauses halfway to her mouth. “A diner? Well, I suppose that’s… nice. For now.”
Hailey exchanges a glance with her mother. “So it’s just what, like a short-order cook type of thing? Burgers and fries?”
“No, actually,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “Rosie’s has a pretty diverse menu. And Iris is letting me develop daily specials. I was thinking of starting with individual chicken pot pies.”
“That sounds delicious,” Lauren says with a warm smile. “Very seasonal.”
“Hmm,” Paula hums, giving Lauren a sidelong glance and cutting her meat with surgical precision. “It’s a shame you didn’t finish college, Caitlin. The community college here has aculinary program. Nothing fancy, but it would give you some credentials.”
“Mom,” Adam says, but it’s soft, more habit than defense.
“What? I’m just saying a degree opens doors. Not that there’s anything wrong with honest work.” Paula smiles at me. “And Rosie’s is charming, I suppose. Although Iris Peterson has always been very…eccentric. Never quite fit in. She’s always had a soft spot for—”
Gerald clears his throat. “Iris has done an amazing job since she took over management of Rosie’s Paula, and you know it.” He suddenly looks deeply uncomfortable and Paula looks angry for some reason.
“I guess it’s something to do while you settle in.” Hailey says, while Paula glares at Gerald. “Mount Pella isn’t Portland after all. We don’t have all those fancy farm-to-table places. Though Millie’s cousin just opened a restaurant on Main Street. They’re looking for staff, I think. It’s a little more…upscale than Rosie’s.”
“I applied there,” I mumble. “They never called me back.”
“Like I said, education opens doors.” Paula switches her attention from Gerald, giving me a condescending smile.
I feel heat creeping up my neck. “I’ve been cooking professionally since I was seventeen. At my family’s restaurant. I don’t need a degree to know what I’m doing.”
“Of course not, dear,” Paula says in the same tone she might use to humor a child. “And it’s just temporary, right? Until you figure out what you really want to do?”
I look at Adam, waiting for him to say something. But he’s focused on his plate, cutting his green beans into perfect bite-sized pieces.
Across the table, Lauren opens her mouth but then seems to think better of it. Jake looks at me sympathetically but doesn’t say anything either.
The conversation shifts to Millie, how she’s coping, how brave she is to keep working at the hospital despite her grief. Paula mentions that she’s having Millie over for lunch tomorrow, that the poor girl needs mothering.
And here I thought it was her father who had died.
I feel immediately ashamed of my unkind thoughts. It seems that every day I’m further becoming someone I don’t recognize.
“She’s always been like another daughter,” Paula is saying, and Hailey nods emphatically.
“Remember when Adam took her to prom? She looked like a princess.”
I push my food around my plate, suddenly not hungry. Under the table, my free hand clenches into a fist.
“That was a long time ago, Mom,” Adam mutters, a flush creeping up the back of his neck.
The rest of dinner passes in a blur of comments that seem designed to remind me I’m an outsider, references to events before I arrived, inside jokes I don’t understand, concerns about people I’ve never met. By the time Paula serves dessert, I feel hollowed out, like someone’s scooped away my insides with a spoon.
As we help clear the dishes, Paula pats my arm. “Don’t worry about those late nights at the diner. I’m sure Adam can fend for himself.”
I nod, fighting to keep from saying that I’m the one who’s gotten used to fending for myself. In the kitchen, as I watch Adam laughing with his sister, I wonder if this is what drowning feels like. Seeing the surface but being unable to break through, watching life continue above while you sink deeper into the cold.
5
