6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Hermie

“Fire two specials over easy.” Shirley stood at the kitchen pass-through, grinning proudly, which warmed my insides. It was Friday morning and I’d been on the job for a little over four hours. Things were going surprisingly well, or so I hoped.

I’d been given the responsibility-slash-honor of choosing the special for the diner’s breakfast menu. Since I was on a burrito roll, having gotten up at four thirty to make breakfast for the hands before I left at five forty-five to meet Shirley at the diner. I was riding a high like I’d never experienced.

“Two specials over easy.” I quickly cracked four eggs on the flattop and grabbed four parbaked sausages to warm beside them. I retrieved two plates and put two flour tortillas on them as I hummed along with a radio station playing Christmas music.

I had a bandana around my forehead because it was hot in the kitchen, and I was dancing around as I prepared pancakes, fried potatoes with onions, grits, French toast, and three kinds of meat. Shirley had cleaned out melon halves for me, so we had something for the health nuts—all three of them in Texas beef country—to order a sensible breakfast. A dollop of cottage cheese, a few blueberries, and a sprig of mint topping it off seemed to do the trick.

“I’m here! I’m here. Sorry I’m late.” Grace Cole breezed into the kitchen before stashing her purse in the closet and grabbing a clean apron.

“Good morning.” I smiled at her and plated two specials, carefully rolling the tortilla without breaking the egg yolks. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

I added a pineapple ring and a slice of orange with a sprinkle of Tajin as a garnish and hit the bell. “Order up.”

“It was okay, I guess. I met my mom’s new boyfriend, which was weird. I didn’t know she was seeing anyone. She didn’t fight with my boyfriend, which was a first. Anyway, how about you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

That was an interesting question. I’d enjoyed fixing dinner with everyone and learning about their holiday mishaps. They’d interacted in the same way I assumed a family would, which was everything I’d missed growing up with my mother.

“Fire a short stack and make ’em squeal.”

I walked to the pass and stared at Shirley. “I’m sorry. Make ’em squeal? What’s that mean?”

Shirley and Grace both laughed. “The fancy restaurants don’t use short-order slang, I guess.” Shirley winked at me. “Short stack of pancakes and sausage patties. A pig would squeal if it was ground up.”

I stared at Shirley in disbelief, my eyes widening at her analogy. “Is there a dictionary somewhere that I can study?” I went about making the food she’d requested, continuing to chuckle at her choice of words.

Throughout the morning, there was a steady stream of customers, but they all seemed in good spirits. None of them complained about having to wait for a table, which was a relief.

Many of them wore holiday headbands, sweaters, and Christmas light necklaces. It was refreshing to see people excited about the holidays. I’d never had the chance to experience anything like it when I was younger.

Grace brought a tray of dirty dishes into the kitchen, skirting behind my place at the flattop. “Coming through!”

I quickly took the tray from her and carried it back to the dishwasher. I shoved it inside and started the cycle before heading back to the grill to transition from breakfast to lunch.

Grace’s mother, Jane, stepped into the kitchen with her purse, shoving it into the same closet as her daughter’s. She grabbed an apron and tied it on. “Hi, Hermie. How’s it going?”

“I’m great, Jane. How about you?”

She walked over to where I was standing and scanned the area. “This is it? This is what you’re making?”

I gasped at the expression on her face. “I-I-I’m shifting f-f-from breakfast—”

“Mom, what are you doing?”

Jane pointed to my mise en place—my prep station—and she frowned. “I could do this in my sleep. It’s nothing against you, Hermie, but you’re slow with the orders, and I heard customers complaining as I came through the dining room. I think the best thing to do is for you to take care of Bare Ranch and let me help Shirley and Luther.”

Am I really messing it up that bad? “I-I-I’m s-s-sorry.”

The stainless door between the kitchen and the restaurant opened and Bare stepped in, his face in a scowl. “What’s going on, Jane? I saw you stomping through the diner just now with a scowl like the Grinch.”

“I can help Shirley a lot more than a stranger who doesn’t know anyone or have any tie to the community. I can cook as well as Luther, which is better than this so-called chef. I deserve the job.”

Bare stepped in front of me. “Jane, why didn’t you tell Shirley you wanted to take Luther’s place when you met her at the hospital while Luther was in surgery? I was there when he passed out, and Hermie stepped in to help without knowing any of us. You owe him a goddamn apology !” Bare’s voice got louder as he spoke, and I was afraid he was going to do something he’d be sorry for later.

I stepped around Bare’s muscular body to get between them. “N-N-No. I’ll b-b-be—”

“Mom, that’s a shit move. You wanna buy the diner? Just tell Aunt Shirley the truth. Don’t act like you haven’t been trying to figure out how to do it for years.” Grace stepped in front of her mother and stared at her, wearing a scowl of her own.

I couldn’t form words, much less say them. I was only trying to help Shirley. She was a nice woman, and all I wanted to do was take the worry of the diner away while Luther was recuperating in the hospital.

Tugging off the apron and bandana, I ran out the back door of the restaurant. I had nowhere to go, but I needed to get away from the shouting. I knew I was worthless, but this was yet another example of me screwing up again. I couldn’t help myself, and it was now clear I couldn’t help anyone else.

I headed in the direction I believed led to the ranch, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t planning to make anyone’s life difficult, so I’d find somewhere… somewhere else... to go.

Walking along the road for what seemed like an eternity, I finally cried myself out. My surroundings slowly became more familiar, which was a relief.

Glancing toward the sky, I saw the huge sign with a black bear carved into the wood that hung over the driveway to the ranch entrance. I’d made it to Bare Ranch, so I sat down beside the fence of the tree lot, taking in the sights and smells of the evergreens.

Families laughed as they chose trees, the roar of a chain saw cut through the air as it chewed through the trunk for someone to take home and decorate. Another thing I’d never done in my life.

Since leaving culinary school, I’d worked in restaurants where they decorated for the holidays, but I’d been working in the kitchen, peeling, dicing, and shredding ingredients for the holiday meal. I’d never worked in front-of-house areas, where the servers and staff were putting up decorations and choosing appropriate music for an occasion. I’d never planned a dish, much less a meal, fit for the season.

That was probably why I’d had so much fun making Thanksgiving dinner because it was a meal I’d planned, and I’d had a hand in almost every dish. I made a real contribution to something important, maybe for the first time in my life.

The sound of crunching gravel caught my attention, followed by a deep sigh and then a chuckle. I turned to my right where Bare sat next to me on the grass. He propped his forearms on his knees and stared into the distance.

“It’s not bad here, is it?”

I side-eyed him. “No. H-How’d you find m-me?”

“Not many ways to go from the diner. The cameras at the gate caught you, and I saw it on the feed from my phone. Are you okay?”

“What’s it m-matter?” I shrugged, surprised I got the words out at all.

“It matters to me…a lot. Are you okay?”

“I-I-I’m a l-l-loser.”

That was the simple truth of it. I wasn’t worth anything to anyone. Hell, my own mother didn’t want me and moved away without giving me her new address—or a proper goodbye.

The calloused tips of Bare’s long fingers touched my left cheek and he turned my face toward him. He studied me before he reached over and used his thumbs to brush away the tears that had started again. More tears. Just what I needed to really impress my boss.

“Come back to the house with me so we can talk about your options. You’re not a loser, Hermie. You’re… you’re kind and strong, and you’re… you’re important to me.”

“I’m n-n-not. I’m not impor—”

Before I could finish the word, Bare leaned forward and sealed his mouth over mine, taking my breath and the words from me. His tongue swept over my lips, so I opened them, my tongue finding his and swirling together in what felt like a dance—first in my mouth, and then in his.

After a few seconds of heaven, he pulled back and stared at me. He skimmed his thumb over my wet bottom lip, leaving electricity skittering over my skin.

“I won’t listen to you say those things about yourself. Come back to the house. The tree lot is going to close soon, and we’re having a cookout for the Floras, remember?” Bare stood and held my hand.

I let him pull me up and lead me to his large pickup. He opened the passenger door, and I got in, not sure what to say to him. I was in awe of the man.

“Buckle up.” He closed my door and walked around the front, getting into the driver’s seat. He started the truck and made a U-turn on Bishop Lane, heading back to the main house.

A warm hand covered my cold one. “We’ve gotta get you some gloves, Hermie. Do you prefer Hermie to Herman? Were you named after anyone?”

My mind raced—no shocker there—so I closed my eyes for a second. “My mother never told me if it was a family name. She and my dad divorced when I was young, and he never tried to reach out to me. Mom told me he left because of me.”

Bare adjusted himself in the seat and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry she said that. I seriously doubt it was the case. I’ve told you what a bastard my father was, but I never felt it was aimed at me. Do you want me to find your mom?”

I turned in his direction. “Why would you wanna do that? Why do you care about me? Y-You don’t know m-me at all.”

Bare pounded his fist against the steering wheel of the large truck. “No, you’re right. I don’t know you well, but I want to protect you. There’s something about you that I’m drawn to, and I want to know more about you. I want to replace all the bad memories with new ones that make you smile. I want you to laugh and feel good about yourself.”

Bare stopped the truck by the front porch of the large house. I reached for the handle, but he reached across me and took my hand. “My heart is telling my head that there’s something about you I’d really miss if you leave. I’m sorry that shit went down at the diner. It shouldn’t have, but Jane’s a different kind of person, so it’s not really a surprise to me. I will tell you this—I’m not sorry to have you at the ranch full-time.”

The sincerity in his face was overwhelming, but I saw compassion in his eyes. It was like they were staring into my soul and found that spot where I desperately wanted someone to give a damn about me.

“How about we put a pin in this topic and get ready for the cookout. Put me to work, Boss.” Bare grinned and pushed the button to release my seat belt, making me laugh.

“Uh, in the flurry of activity, I didn’t get to the store, and I forgot the ranch truck is at the diner. I better walk back to town and take care of that. I-I need to t-tell you something.”

My brain buzzed with worry, so I took a deep breath to try to get it out without panicking. I couldn’t imagine Bare being angry about something that happened a few years ago.

“I don’t have a driver’s license,” I blurted out with my eyes closed. “Mine expired while I was in culinary school, and since I didn’t have a car, I didn’t bother renewing it. I didn’t think about the possibility of having a vehicle again, which is probably stupid. Anyway, I guess I need to get one now.”

Bare stared at me for a second, his face unreadable, before he started laughing. “Well, darlin’, I guess we better get you one. You got the keys to the truck on ya? I’ll take Chuck with me and go to the store. He can drive the rust bucket home.”

I laughed at the adorable smile on his face. “Whatever you say.”

Bare got out and opened my door, helping me out and kissing my forehead. “Maybe one of these days, we can test your limits on doing what I say.”

I pulled out the keys and handed them to him, not sure what he meant, but that odd fluttery feeling tickled my stomach again. It was happening more and more when I was around Bare.