Read A Treasure of Their Own Page 23


  Chapter Seventeen

  The Campus Café, for lack of a better name, was due to open at 6 p.m. The ladies had the place tidy and everything in the kitchen was prepped and ready for the first order. This was their second full week in business. The waitresses had their little spiels memorized and Fred had meticulously organized the kitchen.

  Sheila had bought this book about upselling and had quite a line-up of things to say to the customers tonight. Roberta, on the other hand loved to talk and carry on with the customers. Fred called it ‘flirting.’ Roberta declared it to be her own brand of ‘up-selling’. Whatever you call it, the customers almost automatically added stuff to their orders.

  It was now 5:30. In essence, they had 25 minutes of free time. Everybody got their laptops and picked a table. They had 25 big ones to get some last minute texting done. Of course, it was always Roberta that laughed and giggled as she typed. No one even dared to look over her shoulder.

  Marci turned hers on and pulled up Facebook. She had no messages from Arthur so she ‘searched’ for him to see if he had put something up that she missed. There was nothing there, either. She stared at her main page for a moment almost as if she was trying to wish a message to appear. The more she thought about what she had said to him in the park that day, the more she wished she hadn’t said it.

  The trip to Elmhurst and the introduction of Brian to Arthur’s parents was probably a bit unsettling, too. Her last hurried and feeble text to him wound up being a lot colder than she would have liked it to be. But, she had never been faced with that kind of situation before. She wished she had the opportunity to do it over.

  Things with Brian were heating up a bit. He had started holding her hand as they walked. Although she knew that was not the real makings of a torrid love affair, she felt like he was sending her a message. He kept talking about moving to D.C. and her moving to Maryland. He talked about it as if it were a done deal. Marci had never been around anyone like that. He would begin talking about it and it all made such good sense that she didn’t have much of a way to tell him ‘No.’ It all seemed to fit into the overall scheme of things that she had felt that God had wanted her to do. No, she didn’t feel like God was telling her TO do it but she didn’t feel like He was tell her NOT to do it either.

  Then it happened. In the top left hand corner a little red dot appeared showing that she had a friend request. She clicked on it to see who it was. For a few moments, she just stared at the face of one of the cutest, freckle-faced little boys she had ever seen. He had a big smile and, of course, his two front teeth were missing. Suddenly, her smile vanished and she sat up real straight as she read the question under his picture, “Are you my sister?”

  Bert caught the uncharacteristic move of her prayer partner out of the corner of her eyes. She saw the most confused look on her face. She also saw a tiny bit of….fear? “What is it, Marci? Bad news from Arthur?” she asked loud enough to where she got everyone else’s attention. As she got out of her chair and came over to her, Fred and Sheila slid out of their booth and met her behind Marci.

  Marci just looked at them with queerest look before she began to giggle. She explained as she pointed to her laptop, “He asked me if I was his sister.”

  That statement made them quicken their steps until they swarmed behind her in a flash. Sheila was the first to comment, “A-w-w-w, he is a darling, Marci. Is he your brother, for real?”

  Bert followed, “If you don’t want him, then I’ll take him for a brother. Look at that smile. Shoot, if he was just somewhere between eighteen and twenty-two, I’d marry him if he would just smile that way at me every day.”

  Fred commented rather dryly, “You mean sixteen to thirty-five, don’t ya Bert?”

  The two looked at each other. Bert started to say something but they both broke out into laughter.

  Fred leaned in just a bit and asked, “His name is Dennis Barton. I thought your last name was Hensley?”

  “My mother and my biological father never married,” she answered as she stared at the picture. “He was too busy trying to make it on the racing circuit. He never seemed to have what it took. Mom waited for him for three years, then gave up and married my step-father.”

  Fred apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Marci shrugged her shoulders and said, “Stuff is stuff, Fred. Everybody has to face stuff sometime.”

  Sheila offered, “Go ahead and accept him as a friend and let’s see.”

  Marci looked at her and then at Bert and Fred. They were all standing around like vultures over carrion waiting for her to hit the ‘accept’ button.

  Fred stated, “You can always unfriend him if you want.”

  “Yeah, right after you tell him that I’m his REAL sister,” Bert added with a snicker.

  “He is cute, isn’t he,” Marci said with a bit of a smile. “In a way, I kinda hope that he is.” She accepted his friend request with the message, ‘If your father’s first name is Sanders we might be.’

  They all watched the screen for a moment. Marci got up and said, “Well, maybe and maybe not. I’ve got to count the register. I think I’ll leave the laptop open for a while just in case.”

  The others straggled back to their laptops and finished what they were doing. The café was opening in five minutes and there were people already standing at the door and taunting the girls. Amidst all of the clamor, they heard a solid knock on the door and a familiar voice say, “Ladies, you have only three minutes left before me and this thronging hoard will come bursting through.”

  Sheila loudly whispered, “It’s Mrs. Piatrowski.” She and the girls scrambled to get their stuff put away and the café ready for business.

  As Bert stepped over to get Marci’s laptop she noticed the red dot that meant someone had answered her comment. “Hey, Marci, you got a reply.”

  Marci looked up from counting and said, “Read it to me, Bert.”

  Bert clicked on the dot and read a little bit. She began, “Wow, look at this book that little guy wrote.” She paused and continued in a little more subdued tone, “Uh, that’s not him typing, Marci.” She picked up the laptop and walked past Marci and sat the laptop down on the desk in the office. When she came back out, she gently grabbed Marci’s arm.

  With a quiver in her voice she whispered to her, “You grandmother is doing the typing now and you need to get in that room and read it.” As a tear trickled down her cheek she finished, “And stay in there until you’re ready to come out. No matter how long it takes. We’ll cover for you. If we get swamped, I’ll get Mrs. P to help. She’ll understand.”

  Marci was taken aback by Roberta’s boldness. She had never talked to anyone as seriously as she just spoke. She could tell by the look in her eyes that it was something serious. As she tried to scan Bert’s face for some hint for her actions, Marci replied, “OK, Bert. Let them in. But, tell her just as soon as she gets in, OK?”

  “Got it.”

  Marci was more than anxious to read the comment. She was surprised when it started out:

  “Hi, Marci, this is your grandmother, Annette Barton. I am so sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances. I had always hoped that we could have gotten together years before this, but I just did not know how we would be received. I’m afraid I have a little bad news. Your father got killed in a racing accident two weeks ago. I know that you’re not that much attached to him and he’s never been around for you and all that. But, Dennis is having a hard time, right now. We’ve had to put his mother in the hospital. I can’t tell you why at the moment. He’s been with me since his father died. He wanted to play on the computer so I set him up a Facebook page and you can guess the rest. He’s reaching out right now trying to cope with things that a little boy has no business coping with. But, if you would be so kind as to spend some time with him on Facebook, maybe he’ll be able to get along a little better. I don’t blame you if you’re too busy or if you feel like you shouldn’t. I hope and pray for the
best for you and yours. Love, Grandma Annette.”

  Marci didn’t know what to think. She never was around her dad at all. Since he has passed from this life, there’s nothing she could do for him, anyway. But, all of a sudden she has a grandmother again. Then, it hit her like a ton of bricks. The words echoed through her soul like a shout in a five mile long cave. She had a brother. Not only that, but she had a brother who was hurting.

  She was overwhelmed with feelings that she had never experienced. It was hard for her to explain, but all she wanted to do was to hold that little fellow in her arms and love him until he quit hurting, and the sooner the better. Hurriedly, she typed her phone number in the comment box and wrote, ‘Call me now.’

  With trembling hands she pulled out her phone and just looked at it. As she waited for the call she hoped would be coming momentarily, Mrs. Piatrowski opened the door to the office and peeked in. Marci looked up with tear-filled eyes, lifted the phone up and hoarsely uttered, “Mrs. P, I have a little brother….and…a grandmother…and she might call...”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this one out. Mrs. Piatrowski stopped her, “You take as much time as you need young lady, I used to sling hash at a local diner to work my way through college. And, I think I’m gonna have me some fun waitressing these young studs coming in. You do Mrs. P a favor and take a-l-l-l the time you need.”

  She stepped back out into the kitchen and shut the door. She stood still for a moment as she realized what she just said. “I know I love that gal a lot,” she admitted to herself, “but did I have to lie to her like that? Oh, well, a little OJT never hurt anyone, especially me.”

  As she stepped into the dining room she said to Bert, “She’s gonna be busy for a while so give me a crash course on your menu.”

  Bert looked wide-eyed at her for a moment, and then picked up a single sheet of laminated plastic. With a crooked little smile she told her, “Here ya go. We only have ten items to choose from and they are all described on the menu. If some smarty pants asks you, what’s on one of the burgers, just pop back at them, ‘Whatsa matter college student, cantcha read?’ They’ll laugh and you’ll laugh and then you just take you pencil out and point to each item and read it to them. They’ll catch on.”

  Mrs. Piatrowski looked at her real slyly as she asked, “Are they really that way or are they just fooling around to get on your good side.”

  Sheila offered, “Why don’t you find out for yourself? Ben and Tommy just sat down at the corner table and haven’t been waited on. So far, they’ve been the biggest flirts. Why don’t you go have some fun with them and give them back some of their guff?”

  Mrs. P picked up a pencil and an order pad and smiled. As she tapped Sheila on the shoulder with the pad she bantered, “Sheila Walker, I like you more and more as the seconds pass. Let me at those heathens and see if I can handle them.”

  As she stepped toward the far corner of the room, she called out loud enough for everyone to hear, “Benny and Tommy, guess who gets to be your waitress for tonight?”

  Ben eyes opened wide as he saw her approach, “Mrs. P, I didn’t know you worked here, too.”

  As she sashayed up to their table with a gigantic smile she said, “I don’t, but I am in charge of making sure that everything goes well here in the new Campus Café. So, tell me gents, how goes it here? How do you like the place?”

  Tommy joined in, “We love it. They’ve got some neat stuff on the menu and the prices are real good, too.”

  “Oh, really” she asked in real coy voice. “What seems to be your favorite?”

  “Mine?” Tommy asked. “That’s easy, the tick burger. They take the French fries and stick them into the burger somehow. And, the girls were telling me this little girl from Marci’s home town asks for a lot of ketchup on the inside, too. That way when she bites off a French fry it looks like it’s bleeding. Yeah, sounds gross I know but it sure is delicious.”

  She played dumb and innocent and she started writing on the pad, “That’s all I have to write is tick burger?”

  Tommy took the bait, “Yeah, let me show you,” he said as he took the pad from her and wrote down what he wanted. He showed it to her and continued, “See, put down tick burger, one s s, and Coke.”

  Although Marci had gone over everything on the menu with her several times, Mrs. P just could not help playing dumb. She took a menu from Tommy’s hands and asked, “What’s an s s?”

  “That’s a squirt of sweet and sour sauce,” he answered. “It gives the burger a real neat flavor.”

  “Oh.”

  It was Ben’s turn. He took the pad from Tommy and said, “I’ll write mine out for you, Mrs. P.” He scribbled his order and handed the pad back to her with a grin.”

  She read it, put her hand on her hip, screwed up her face, turned to the girls and said above the noise of the café, “Hey, nobody told me y’all were going to sell tamales.”

  Ben quickly grabbed her arm to get her attention, “Oh, no. That’s just the name of it. It’s a hot tamale burger.”

  Mrs. P did a wonderful job of playing little miss innocent. She read Ben’s scribbling loud enough for everyone to hear, “Hot tamale burger, fries, Dr. Pepper, two s h? S h?”

  “Yeah,” Ben answered with a big smile. “The hot tamale burger has pepper jack cheese and four sliced jalapeno peppers inside it.”

  “Two s h?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he continued, “that’s for two shots of hot sauce stuff whatever.”

  Mrs. P took another look at what the guys had written on the pad as if she didn’t understand it and left with an, “OK, gents.”

  On the way to the kitchen, Leo Schwartz leaned back in his chair and drawled, “You can take my order if you want to. I’ve made up my mind, Mrs. P.”

  “Sure, Leo, what’ll you have?” she asked as she flipped to the next page in her pad.

  In his slow and southern accent he ordered, “Just write these words down.” It seemed like the guys were having a great time trying to confuse her and she was playing it for all it was worth. He ordered, “Triple Mr. Dunavant, pepper jack, hot.” He folded his arms, leaned on the table and chuckled at his order.

  She played dumb and acted like she was scouring the menu for a ‘Mr. Dunavant burger.’

  Leo drawled again, “That’s the ‘You Name It burger.’ It’s a sandwich with three slices of bologna with pepper jack cheese between them and heated in the microwave.”

  She looked at him with a surprised look on her face and asked, “Bologna? Mr. Dunavant? You Name It burger? I get it now. He must have done something to ya’, huh?”

  “I guess you could say that. He said, in class, in front of everybody that if I operated on my patients like I talked, half of them wouldn’t make it through the operation. Then he said that it’s a good thing that I’m not a brain surgeon,” he finished with a laugh. He did admit, “I know I talk slow but he didn’t have to make fun of me in front of the whole class. I guess ordering a bologna sandwich with his name on it in front of a crowded café is kinda like payback.”

  There was a lot of giggling and chuckling going on as everyone listened while Leo talked. You would have to be a terribly evil person to dislike Leo. That southern drawl of his always brought at least a smile from those who listened to him. He had light blonde hair, dark blue eyes and many of the young ladies were fascinated with his gentlemanly manners and sweet southern ways.

  But what brought the group to tears of laughter was his final statement. He leaned back in his chair once more, pointed his boney finger at Mrs. Piatrowski and declared, “And, you can tell him I said so, too, if’n you want to.”

  Mrs. P waited for everyone to calm down before she announced, “The unwritten rule for this café is just like they say about Las Vegas. What’s said in the cafe stays in the café. As a matter fact, as the official guardian of this place, I’m going to do some official guardian stuff. I’ll make a three foot by five foot banner with those very words on it and have
it up on the wall. How about it?”

  As the crowd applauded their appreciation, she walked toward Sheila and Bert with a ‘how about that’ look on her face. The ladies put their hands together, held them under their chins and bowed as they declared in unison, “Unworthy, we are unworthy.”

  Marci came out of the door with a big smile on her face. Before anyone can ask anything, she announced, “This Saturday, my grandmother and baby brother are going to come to see me.”

  That is, if she was still around on Saturday. Tomorrow evening she had an appointment to be at Dan and Monique’s house.

  Chapter Eighteen