Джеймс Кейн - Mildred Pierce

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.”

It was high time for Mildred to get back to the kitchen, but she lingered, patting Ida’s hand, basking in her approval.

The well-oiled machine was in high now, humming smoothly, pulling its load. So far, Mildred had found a few seconds for each new arrival, and particularly for each new departure to give a little reminder of the homemade pies she had for sale, and wouldn’t they like to take home one? But now she was working a bit feverishly, frying chickens, turning waffles. When she heard a car door slam she didn’t have a chance to look out and count customers. Then she heard another door slam. Then Arline appeared. “Two fours just come in, Mrs. Pierce. I got room for one but what do I do with the other? I can shove two twos together, but not till I get Miss Ida moved out—”

“No no! Let her alone.”

“But what’ll I do?”

“Seat four, ask the others to wait.”

In spite of herself, her voice was shrill. She went out, asked the second party of four if they minded waiting. She said she was a little rushed now, but it would only be for a few minutes. One of the men nodded, but she hurried away, ashamed that she hadn’t foreseen this, and provided extra chairs. When she got to the kitchen, Arline was jabbering at Pancho, then turned furiously to Mildred: “He’s washing plates, and the soup bowls are all out, and if he don’t let me have them I can’t serve my starters! Soup bowls, stupid , soup bowls!”

Arline screamed this at Pancho, but as Mildred shushed her down, Letty came in, heavy-footed and clumsy at unaccustomed work, and dumped more soup bowls on the pile, which went down with a crash, three breaking. Mildred made a futile dive to save them, and heard another car door slam. And suddenly she knew that her machine was stalled, that her kitchen was swamped, that she had completely lost track of her orders, that not even a starter was moving. For one dreadful moment she saw her opening turning into a fiasco, everything she had hoped for slipping away from her in one nightmare of an evening. Then beside her was Ida, whipping off her hat, tucking it with her handbag beside the tin box that held the cash, slipping into an apron. “O.K. Mildred, it’s them dishes that’s causing it all. Now she ain’t no good out there, none whatever, so let her wipe while he washes, and that’ll help.”

As Mildred nodded at Letty and handed her a towel, Ida’s quick eye spotted dessert dishes, and she set them out on a tray. Then, to Arline: “Call your soup.”

“I want a right and left for two, three and one, chicken and tomato for four, and they been waiting for—”

Ida didn’t wait to hear how long they had been waiting. She dipped soup into the dessert dishes, dealt out spoons with one hand and crackers with the other, and hurried out with the tray, leaving butter, salad, and water to Arline. In a minute she was back. “O.K., Mildred, I got your family to take a walk outside. They was all through eating anyway. Then I put two at my table, and that took care of four. Then soon as I get the check for that first party of four, that’ll take care of four more, and—”

The twanging voice, the voice that Mildred had hated, twanged on, and Mildred responded to it with a tingle that started in her heart and spread out through the rest of her. Her nerve came back, her hands recovered their skill, as things began moving again. She was pouring a waffle when Mrs. Gessler appeared at the door, and came tiptoeing over to her. “Anything I can do, baby?”

“I don’t think so, Lucy. Thanks just the—”

“Oh yes there is.”

Ida seized Mrs. Gessler by the arm as she usually seized the members of her command. “You can take off that hat and get out there and sell pies. Don’t bother them while they’re eating but stay near the showcase and when they get through see what you can do.”

“I’ll be doing my best.”

“Containers in the drawer under the case, they’re out flat and you’ll have to fold them, then tie them up and put the carrying handles on. If you have any trouble, just call for me or ask Mildred.”

“What’s the price, Mildred?”

“Eighty-five cents. Everything’s eighty-five cents.”

Mrs. Gessler laid her hat beside Ida’s and went out. Soon Mildred saw her come back, lay a dollar bill in the tin box, take change, and go out. In a short time she saw many bills in the box, as Ida repeatedly came in, made change, and sent Arline out with it, so she would get her tip. When she had a lull, she slipped off her apron and went out. Nobody was standing now, but every seat was filled, and she felt as she had felt yesterday, at the funeral, when she walked through the living room and saw all those half-remembered faces. These were people she hadn’t seen in years, people reached by Wally’s clever system of mailing. She spoke to them, asked if everything was all right, received their congratulations, and from a few, words of sympathy about Ray.