Mildred noted Pancho’s cream-colored suit, but wasted no time on it. She handed out uniforms and put them both to work. They were to give the place a thorough cleaning, and as soon as the front room was done, they were to hang the percale drapes that lay in a pile on the floor. She showed how the fixtures worked, and on Pancho’s assurance that he was a virtuoso with the screwdriver, she drove back to the house, picked up her pies, and made the rounds of delivery.
When she got back she caught her breath at what she saw. Pancho had indeed made a fine job of the drapes: the fixtures were all up and he was hanging the last of them. Arline had put the tables around, so that what had been a dreary pile of wood, metal, and cloth in one corner was now a restaurant, warm, clean, and inviting. Mildred still had many things to do, but when the laundry service delivered her napkins and doilies, she couldn’t resist setting a table to see how it looked. To her, it was beautiful. The red-and-white check of the linen combined pleasantly with the maple, and with Arline’s brick-red uniform, just as she had hoped it would. For a few minutes she lingered, drinking in the picture with her eyes. Then, after pointing out what was to be done in the kitchen, she got in the car again, to resume her errands.
At the bank, she drew $30, filling out the stub quickly, and trying not to think of the 7 she had to write, under “Balance Forward.” She asked for $10 in change, against the requirements of the evening, dropped the rolls of coin into her handbag, and went on. At the ranch where her chickens were on order, she found twenty-six waiting for her, instead of the stipulated twenty. Mr. Gurney, the rancher, was quite voluble about it, saying them birds was in such prime condition he hated to see anybody else get them. Just the same, she was annoyed. He did raise fine chickens, honestly corn-fed, not milk-fed, and fine chickens she had to have. And yet she couldn’t have him overselling her like this. After fingering them for a time, she rejected two because they weren’t properly picked and took the rest, paying $8, the price being three for a dollar. Loading them into the car, she went to the U-Bet market, for vegetables, eggs, bacon, butter, and groceries. She spent $11, almost having to dig into her reserve of coin.
Back at the restaurant, she inspected the kitchen, found it fairly satisfactory. Arline had mopped the floor, and Pancho had washed the new dishes without breaking any. Letty arrived, and Mildred had her make lunch for Arline and Pancho, then settled down to what she really liked, which was cooking. She got out the chickens, went over them carefully for pinfeathers, found Mr. Gurney’s picking a great deal better than most market picking. Then she took a small cleaver and sectioned them up. She was going to serve half a fried chicken, with vegetables or waffle, for 85¢, but she hated the half chicken that was served in most places. It came on the table in one loathsome piece, and she wondered how people could possibly eat it. She was going to do it differently. First, she cut off the necks, then cut the chicken in half. Then she took off the wings and the legs. The legs she separated into second joints and drumsticks, and then she trimmed the breasts so there was only a sliver of breastbone backing them, without any wishbone or rib. Then, remembering Archie’s system for such things, she packed breasts, drumsticks, second joints, and wings into four different dishes, and placed them in the icebox so she could pick up a portion with one motion. The necks and bones she pitched into a pot, for soup. The giblets she cut up and put in a pan, for gravy. She started her other soup, the cream of tomato, and put Pancho to preparing vegetables.
Around four, Wally came in, to inspect the alterations, and report. His main activity, since she had seen him, had been to send out the announcements, and for this he had drafted his secretary. She had utilized all the old Pierce Home lists, so that every person who had bought a home, or had even thought of buying a home, had been covered. Mildred listened, pleased that all this had been so well attended to, but he kept hanging around, and she wished he would go, so she could work. Then she noticed him looking at the showcase. This was the most expensive piece of furniture she had, and the only one that had been made to order. The base and back were of maple, but the sides, top, and shelves were of glass. It was to display the pies she hoped to sell to the “take-out” trade, and presently, looking rather self-conscious, Wally asked: “Well, how did you like that little surprise I fixed up for you?”
“—? What surprise?”
“Didn’t you see it?”
“I haven’t seen anything.”
“Hey — you go back to the kitchen, then, and wait, and believe me pretty soon you’re going to see something.”
Mystified, she went to the kitchen, and still more mystified, saw Wally appear there in a moment or two, find her pies, and carry two into the restaurant, then two more, then two more. Then she could see him arranging the pies in the showcase. Then she could see him fumbling with something against the wall. Then suddenly the showcase lighted up, and she gave a little cry, and went running out. Wally beamed. “Well, how do you like it?”
“Why Wally, it’s beautiful!”
“Something I did for you while — well, the last few days. I slipped in here at night and worked on it.” He proudly pointed out the tiny reflectors that screwed into the maple, almost invisibly, to shoot the light downward, on the pies; the bulbs, no bigger than her finger; the wiring, cunningly tacked to the back in such manner as to leave the panels free to slide. “You know how much that little job cost?”
“I haven’t any idea.”
“Well, let’s see now, the reflectors, they were seven cents apiece, six of them, that’s forty-two cents. The lights, a nickel apiece — say, they’re Christmas tree bulbs, can you beat that? Thirty cents for them, that’s seventy-two cents. The wire, ten cents. The sockets, screws, and plug, maybe a dollar. Say altogether, a couple of bucks. How’s that?”
“I just can’t believe it.”
“Took me maybe an hour. But it ought to sell pies.”
“And get a free dinner.”
“Oh, never mind that.”
“A free dinner, and second helpings.”
But the clock was ticking inexorably on, and she hurried back to work as soon as he left, though in a pleasant glow now, feeling that everybody was trying to help her. The vegetables, started before Wally came, were now ready, and they took them up. She put them in their pots and turned the hot water into the steam table. She made waffle batter, laid beside it the dipper that held exactly one waffle. She made pie crust, for biscuits. Her ice cream arrived: chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla. She had Pancho set all three freezers on a bench, where they could be easily reached, and showed Arline how to dip it up, reminding her she would be responsible for desserts as well as starters. She made salad, started the coffee.
At five thirty she went to the ladies’ room to change for the evening. She had given considerable thought to what she would wear. She had decided on white, but not the sleazy white of the nurse uniforms then becoming so common. She went to Bullocks, and bought sharkskin dresses, of a shade just off white, white with a tint of cream in it, and had little Dutch caps made to go with them. Always vain of her legs, she had the dresses shortened a little. Now, she hurriedly got into one, put on her Tip-Top shoes, stuck on the little cap. As she hurried out carrying the apron she would wear in the kitchen, and slip off when she came out to greet the customers, she looked like the cook in a musical comedy.