No one would believe it.
Party of eight from the Wauwinet, party of four waitresses from the Westender celebrating a birthday, party of five that was a single mom out with her two kids and their spouses. Then a series of deuces, then a four-top that was two couples celebrating the fact that they’d been friends for twenty years. The phone rang and rang. Adrienne checked each time to see if it was the private line-no. She didn’t answer. Delilah ran her a glass of champagne and Adrienne took half of it in one long gulp.
She hurried into the kitchen to put in two orders of chips. The kitchen seemed the same except that instead of Fiona, Antonio was expediting.
“Ordering sixteen,” he called out. “One foie gras, one Caesar.”
“Yes, chef,” Eddie said.
“Ordering twelve,” Antonio said. “Two chowder, one beet, one foie gras killed, Henry baby, okay?”
“Yes, chef,” Henry said.
Adrienne held up two fingers to Paco and he started slicing potatoes on his mandolin. Adrienne knew it would take six minutes and she should get back out front, but she lingered in the kitchen for a minute. Everything seemed way too normal. The Subiacos worked as though nothing was wrong. The baseball game was on. She poked her head back into pastry. Mario was pulling a tray of brownies out of the convection oven. Adrienne stared him down. They had never talked about Fiona’s illness.
“What?” he said. “You want one?”
“Thatcher and Fiona are in Boston,” Adrienne whispered. “They’re going to be gone for three days. Fiona is in the hospital.”
Mario squeezed Adrienne’s face to make fish lips. It hurt. “It’s okay,” he said. “This happens. They put Fiona on a vent and it clears things out. They pump her full of miracle drugs. It makes things better. Trust me. It’s no big deal.” He let Adrienne’s face go.
“Really?” Adrienne said.
“Fifteen years ago, we’re in Skills One together and the day before our practical, she goes into the hospital. Big hospital down in the city. So I know something’s wrong. As soon as I finish my test, I take the train to see her and she tells me about her thing. And I think maybe I’m gonna cry but then I realize Fee is the toughest person I know. She’s gonna survive. And, like I said, that was fifteen years ago. She goes back to school the next week, makes up her practical, scores a ninety-seven out of a hundred. I get a seventy-three. Suddenly, she’s the one who’s worried about me. And for good reason.” Mario cut the crispy edges off the brownies. “She’ll outlive us all. You watch.”
“Okay,” Adrienne said. That was what she wanted to hear. She smacked Mario’s butt and walked back to the hot line.
Spillman burst into the kitchen. “Adrienne, can you open wine for table fifteen? I’m slammed, and they say they’re friends of yours.”
“Sure,” Adrienne said. She returned to the dining room. Rex was playing Barry Manilow. She took the Levys’ wine order, retrieved the bottle from the wine cave, opened the wine and served it, all in under five minutes, at which point she remembered the chips and dip. Adrienne delivered chips and dip to the Levys, then Leon Cross. She returned to the podium and finished her champagne. Run the restaurant by herself? she thought. Piece of cake!
Smack in the middle of first seating, two women walked in wearing baseball hats and jeans. Adrienne felt a headache coming on. The Bistro didn’t have a dress code, she reminded herself. The best tippers were often the guests who were underdressed. One of the women was wearing giraffe-print Prada mules and Gucci sunglasses. She took the sunglasses off as she approached the podium.
“Is it all right if we eat at the bar?”
Adrienne was caught completely off-guard. She made a gurgling sound. It was Tam Vinidin.
“Sure,” Adrienne said finally, her mind ricocheting all over the place. She wanted to shout, but she had to remain cool. She wanted everyone in the restaurant to know Tam Vinidin was there, yet it was imperative that no one found out. Did anyone recognize her? She was beautiful and all the more so because she wore no makeup and had her hair in a ponytail under a hat. Her friend was… no one Adrienne recognized. Sister, maybe.
“Follow me,” Adrienne said. She plucked two menus and led the women to the bar.
“Duncan!” Tam Vinidin said.
“Hey, Tam,” he said. “I heard you were on-island.” They kissed. Adrienne stared at Duncan in genuine awe.
“This is my cousin Bindy,” Tam said. “We decided to stay through the weekend. It’s so relaxing here.”
“Cool,” Duncan said. “What can I get you ladies to drink?”
“Champagne,” Tam Vinidin said.
“Laurent-Perrier?” Duncan asked.
Tam Vinidin took off her hat and let her fabulous black hair free of its elastic. “Sure.”
“Adrienne, are you willing to share your bottle with these ladies?” Duncan said.
Adrienne realized she had been gaping. “Okay?” she said, then she beat it into the kitchen.
“Okay,” she said to Paco ten seconds later. “Guess who’s eating at the bar.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Paco said. He was helping Eddie build club sandwiches. “I’m fucking busy.”
“Tam Vinidin.”
Paco yelled to Hector, who was grilling off steaks. “She’s here. Eating at the bar.”
Hector whooped then pleaded with Antonio. “Can I go out and see her, Tony? Please, man?”
Antonio wiped his forehead with a side towel. He was older than Fiona by at least ten years and it showed. He was sweating; he looked exhausted and second seating hadn’t even started yet. “Tam Vinidin’s here?” he asked Adrienne.
Adrienne nodded. “I came to put in a VIP order.”
“Hers is in the reach-in,” Antonio said. “Fiona ordered those Medjool dates, just in case.”
“You’re kidding,” Adrienne said. She checked the reach-in and found a plate of dates stuffed with peanut butter.
Caren slammed into the kitchen. “Is Adrienne in here?”
Adrienne turned around, holding the dates. “Did you see who’s-”
“You promised me you wouldn’t,” Caren said. She threw her hands up in the air. Her lovely neck was getting red and splotchy. “You put Tam Vinidin at the bar!”
“She asked to sit at the bar. She knows Duncan from…”
“You promised me you wouldn’t do it!” Caren said. “You could have put her at table three.”
“Put Tam Vinidin at table three?”
“Because now she’s out there with Duncan!”
“She’s a movie star,” Adrienne said. “She’s not interested in Duncan.”
“He’s interested in her.”
“No, he’s not…”
“Shit, yeah, he is,” Hector interjected.
“Shut up!” Caren said.
“You’re a bitch,” Hector said. “You think he wants you instead?”
“You’re a bitch, bitch,” Caren said.
“No fighting in the kitchen!” Antonio said. He clapped his hands and pointed to the door. “I don’t want to hear anything else about the movie star. The dates, the organic peanut butter, fine. But not another word. And no more special treatment.”
As it turned out, Tam Vinidin didn’t want special treatment. She was thrilled about the dates and offered one to her cousin, one to Duncan, one to Adrienne, one to Leon Cross’s wife who knew Tam from New York and popped over to say hello, and one to Caren who passed by the bar three times in two minutes to keep an eye on Duncan. Everyone refused.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” she said.
Rex played “Georgia on My Mind.” Adrienne forced herself to return to the podium. The phone rang and she realized she hadn’t thought about Thatcher for almost half an hour. She wanted to call him and thank him and Fiona.