Drunk drivers don't care about your personality or what you've done. They only want to numb their own pain. And in doing so, they create sorrow that spreads far beyond themselves when they get behind the wheel.
Rina crossed her arms, fluffing up her maid outfit. Well, if I can be resolute and kind today and can carry both of their traits..maybe I can. Grabbing a paper towel from the counter, she wiped her tears and walked into the lobby where customers waited. People of all shapes and sizes filled the room some dressed in overcoats far too heavy for the weather, others in short skirts and long jackets.
Her eyes fell on one particular gentleman, dressed sharply in a suit, holding a newspaper in front of him.
Who even reads a newspaper anymore with all this digital technology? she wondered. Still, she paid no mind as he sipped his coffee and turned the pages.
"Okay, Grandma, I'm ready to work. Who's up?"
Grandma Alma looked back at her and winked. "That young man over there. He could use your help. Why don't you go serve him?"
"A young man, huh?" Rina muttered, glancing at her grandmother.
"Do well to find yourself a young man today," Grandma teased. "When are you going to get married?"
"I don't plan on getting married anytime soon, Grandma. I'm married to my grief."
"Such depression at a young age," the older woman sighed, shaking her head. "Keep thinking like that and you'll age badly by 30." Still, she smiled warmly at her granddaughter. "Be kind, sweetie. Okay? This is his first time here."
"Okay, Grandma." Grabbing a menu off the counter, Rina strolled over to the young man in a hoodie and placed it in front of him.
"What can I do for you today?" Rina asked, twirling in a circle before forming her hands into the shape of a heart. Her long hair swoosh in a circle releasing some of perfume into to the air.
"More theatrics, please," the young man replied with a smile, clapping heartily.
"More theatrics…" Rina muttered. "Sure, why not?" She twirled once more, lifting a finger gracefully into the air, her smile bright. "Welcome to our humble establishment, where we do our best to take care of you. Now, please take a look at our menu and choose something that will make your heart happy." Flashing a cheesy grin, she pointed down at the table and tapped her foot with playful insistence.
The young man, early twenties and amused, glanced at the menu, then back up at her. "I think I'll try the rice with a side of stew. Could I also get a small coffee?"
"That's no problem," Rina replied, then tilted her head. "But may I ask a question? Why rice and stew so early in the morning? Wouldn't you like to try one of our breakfast items?"
"I don't think it's the point of your establishment to question the customer's order. You'll see the light soon enough." The man winked, letting a sly smile curl at his lips.
"Oh, you little…" she mumbled, snatching the menu from his hands. With a dramatic 360 degree turn, she whisked herself off toward the kitchen. The light..what was he taking about.
At the counter, she found the day's ingredients already laid out. The menu was simple rice, stew, coffee, and noodles. "I get so tired of making stew," she thought, "but thankfully, Grandma always leaves everything prepared. It'll only take a few minutes."
She set a pot of water to boil and added potatoes, green beans, and rice. "It'll take about twenty minutes, but anyone ordering stew at this hour should know patience is part of the deal." She let the rice simmer at the bottom, allowing the potatoes to soften and the green beans to release their flavor, merging into a fragrant medley of spices and warmth.
It was Grandma McIntyre's prized recipe. A dish that suitors and strangers alike had tried to pry from her. Only her family knew the secret. Now, most of that family had passed, leaving Rina as one of the few to carry the tradition.
As she stirred the pot slowly, her mind wandered back to holidays long ago, when everyone had gathered around the same stew, laughter echoing around the table.
At least I have my memories of all the times we gathered together, trying to make the most of life. Stirring the stew one last time, she turned the heat down low and placed the large wooden spoon on a cloth beside the stove.
I guess what keeps people coming back to us is our ability to make them feel like we're home to them. Do I really have a home? People often say we can make our mind a heaven or a hell based on how we think. Right now, I don't think very fondly of myself.
Pulling out a small glass turquoise bowl, she set it on the counter and ladled four large servings of the illustrious stew. "I hope you like it, annoying young man." Twirling in a circle and taking a bow, she walked back into the bustling lobby and placed the stew in front of him.
"Here you go, sir a one of a kind homemade stew, made by yours truly, Grandma McIntyre. We hope you adore it, and please let us know how I can serve you during your visit."
Twirling again, she put her hand to her chest, opening her fingers as if breaking her heart. Under her breath she mumbled, "Just so you know, I'm not cursing you." She smiled, bowed, and turned quickly, her pigtails swaying.
The man looked up, his face twisting into a sinister glare before dipping his spoon into the bowl.
"Hey, Rina!" her grandma called out. "I need two more servings of stew over here for this couple. Make it snappy, alright?"
Grandma McIntyre snapped her fingers and shooed her with her left hand.
"Can't you just say please, Grandma?" Rina mumbled under her breath, placing her hand on the double doors to the kitchen. "Of course, Grandma! You got it."
She stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed two more bowls, one white and one black, each decorated with cats licking at their paws. "Don't older people like animals since their children don't come around anymore?" she thought with a slight smile.
Scooping generous helpings of stew into the bowls, she added two medium spoons and grabbed a few extra napkins. Hurrying out, she carried the tray up to her grandma, who was deep in conversation with the older couple.
Rina bowed and smiled. "Here is my grandma's favorite recipe: our special stew. I hope you enjoy it." She forced a smile, bowed once more, and gently set her hands over the tray.