However, she didn’t go into a number. She assembled Pancho, Letty, and Arline for final instructions, paying most attention to Arline. “I’m not expecting many people, because it’s my first night and I haven’t had a chance yet to build up my trade. But if you should be rushed, remember: Get their orders. I’ve got to know whether they’re having vegetables or waffle before I can start, so don’t keep me waiting.”
“Call them both?”
“Call the waffle only.”
“Call biscuits?”
“I’ll keep biscuits out all the time, and you pick them up yourself. Pick up your own bread and your own biscuits, but put them in separate baskets and don’t forget that biscuits call for a napkin, to keep them hot. Three biscuits to a person, more if they want them, but don’t be stingy with them and don’t take time to count. Pick them up quick, and pick up enough.”
Arline surveyed the place with a practiced eye, counting tables. There were eight tables for two, around the wall, and two tables for four, in the middle. Mildred saw the look, and went on: “You’ll be able to take care of them, if you get their orders. There’s plenty of room here, you’re using a tray, and that’ll help. Any time you need her, I’ll send Letty out to bus up your tables for you, and—”
“Can’t she do that right from the start? So we get used to working together, and don’t commence bumping and stepping all over each other’s feet?”
“Then all right.”
Letty nodded, with a self-conscious grin. She was already in the brick-red uniform, which was quite becoming to her, and obviously wanted to be part of the show. Mildred went back to the kitchen, lit the oven, and started the waffle irons to heat. She was using a gas waffle, instead of the usual electric waffle, “because that’s the old-fashioned kind of round waffle that people really like.” She went to the switch box, put on the lights. The last switch worked the outside sign, and when it was on, she went out to look. There it was, as beautiful as ever, casting a bluish light over the trees. She drew a deep breath and came inside. At last she was open, at last she had her own business.
There ensued a long wait. She sat nervously at one of the tables for two, while Arline, Letty, and Pancho stood in a corner whispering. Then they started to giggle, and a horrible pain shot through Mildred. It was the first time it had occurred to her that she could open a restaurant, and then have nobody show up. She lurched suddenly to her feet and went to the kitchen. She kept touching the waffle irons, to see if they were hot. Outside a car door slammed. She looked up. A car was there, and four people were entering the restaurant.
She had a moment of complacency as she reached for the chicken: now she would reap her reward for all her observing, thinking, and planning. She had had the free parking located in the rear, so she could see exactly how many customers she had, even before they came in; she had simplified her menu, so she could start the chicken without waiting for the waitress to report; she had placed her icebox, range, materials, and utensils so she could work with the minimum of effort. Feeling as though she were starting a well-tuned machine, she took out four each of breasts, second joints, drumsticks, and wings, rolled them in the flour box beside the range, gave them a squirt from the olive oil bottle that stood beside the flour. She shoved them in the oven, for the brief baking that preceded frying in butter. Not yet closing the oven door, she shoved a pan of biscuits in, beside them. Arline appeared. “Four at No. 9, soup right and left, two and two, one waf.”
She reminded Arline she was not to call soup, but dip it up herself, then went out to greet her first guests. They were strangers to her, a man, woman, and two children, but she made them a pretty little speech, saying they were her first guests, and she hoped they liked her place and would keep on being her guests. Arline came in with the starters, the soup, crackers, butter, napkins, water, and salad. Salad, for some reason, is served first in California. Mildred’s eye checked the tray, finding it in order. Two more people came in. She vaguely remembered them as Pierce Homes buyers of six or seven years ago, but her waitress training came at once to her aid. Their names were on her tongue before she fairly saw their faces: “Why how do you do, Mrs. Sawyer, and Mr. Sawyer! I’m so glad you were able to come!”
They seemed pleased, and she seated them at a table in the corner. As soon as Arline came over to get their orders, she went back to the kitchen, to start more chicken.
The first order went out smoothly, with Letty bussing the dirty dishes to Pancho, who went to work at once. But then Arline appeared, looking worried. “Two at No. 3, but one of them’s a kid that won’t have soup. Says she wants tomato juice with a piece of lemon and some celery salt — I told her we don’t serve it, but she says she’s got to have it and what do I do
It was no trouble to guess who that was.
She found Bert and Veda, at one of the tables for two. Bert was in a light suit, conscientiously groomed and brushed, but with a black band on one arm. Veda was in a school dress that hadn’t been worn yet, and Mildred’s floppy hat. Both of them looked up with a smile, Veda exclaiming how pretty Mildred’s dress was, Bert nodded approvingly at the restaurant. “By God, this looks like something. You got yourself a piece of property this time, Mildred. This place is real.”
He stamped his foot. “And it’s built. I saw to that. I bet there was no trouble with the Department of Health when they inspected this floor.”
“They passed it without even looking.”
“How about those toilets?”
“They passed them too. Of course, we had to cut a door through, so both of them opened into the old secretary’s office. We made that into a kind of lounge. It’s against the law for a toilet to open into the kitchen, you know. But that, and the painting, and the gravel and the swing doors, were about all we had to do. It cost money, though. Whew!”
“I bet it did.”
“Would you like to look around?”
“I’d love it.”
She took them both through, and felt proud when Bert admired everything profusely, not quite so proud when Veda said: “Well, Mother, I think you’ve done very well, considering everything.” Then she heard a car door slam, and turned to greet her new customer. It was Wally, and he was quite excited. “Say, you’re going to have a mob. You heard me, a mob. That’s the thing to remember with direct-mail advertising. It’s not what you send. It’s where you send it. I got that stuff of yours right to the people that know you, and they’re coming. I bumped into six different people that told me they’d be here — and that’s just six I happened to bump into. I said a mob.”
Wally pulled over a chair and sat down with Bert and Veda. Bert asked him sharply if he had attended to the transfer of beneficiary on the fire insurance. Wally said he figured he’d wait till the place burned down. Bert said O.K., he was just asking.
When Mildred looked up, Ida was standing in the door. She went over and kissed her, and listened while she volubly explained that her husband had wanted to come, but got a call on a job, and simply had to look into it. Mildred took her to the table that now had only one chair, the other having been borrowed by Wally. Ida looked around, taking things in. “Mildred, it’s just grand. And the space you got. You can get two more fours in easy, just by shifting those twos a little bit. And you can use trays, big as you want. You got no idea how that’ll help. It’ll save you at least one girl. At least.”