I went back to work and finished the last tax year. Like the rest, no errors. That, in and of itself, was amazing. Books this clean were usually done by professionals. The IRS can dig as deep as they desired, there was nothing to find. Jennie was pleased to hear my summary. I could still see a little fear behind her eyes, but the IRS had a tendency to do that.
"Do you remember Soojoo?" I asked pointing at the charity ball ledger.
"Sorry, there are lots of attendees and most of them bring checks from their friends." Jennie's eyes went sad. "I'm sure she was lovely, I can see her in you." I could only nod at that. Soojoo was certainly lovely.
Lisa joined me for dinner once again. It was brownie night so she was an absolute pleasure to be around. I moved my brownie to her tray and she just nodded and kept telling me about her day. There was an accident on the bridge that screwed up her time keeping, but, other than that, it was the same day as always.
Rosie sat down next to me, her face is like an angel's when she smiles. I guessed I had become a regular and was considered safe. Lisa placed my brownie on Rosie's tray. I gave her a confused look. I had never seen her give up a brownie. I thought maybe she was sweet on Rosie.
"Rosie got me new boots," Lisa said, nearly bringing her leg and a construction boot up on the table.
"Nicely done, Rosie," I said as I admired the nearly new treads on the sole.
"Figured someone wanted 'em, don't fit me." Rosie was speaking with a mouth full of meatloaf. The boots did look warm and I knew Lisa saw the value. It was strange how my priorities were changing. A month ago, I would have just run out and bought a pair if I wanted boots. Now, I was slightly envious. Jennie snuck up on us again. This time it wasn't to speak to Lisa.
"Thank you for all your work, Chu" Jennie put a glass of jello on my tray. It had three layers, red, green and yellow. The layers were slanted, obviously she had spent some time putting it together. I had a strong feeling of déja vu and Soojoo, sending a shudder down my back. I just stared at the glass, not knowing what to say.
"I thought you liked jello," Jennie said with pain in her voice. She started to reach out to take it back. She couldn't have known. I reached it before she did and pulled it close and forced a smile.
"It's perfect. It was just unexpected." I looked back at the glass, tilting it to examine the layers. "It's actually quite beautiful. Thank you." I glanced back at her. She was wearing a grin that spanned the whole room. She turned and went back to her duties on the line, her blue flowered skirt floating across the floor as she moved. Rosie giggled and shared a stupid look with Lisa.
"It's just a thank you," I said, exasperated. Rosie went back to eating. Lisa just smiled at me. I spent a good five minutes examining the jello. Fond memories of Soojoo washed through me. I remember coming home from work with an arm full of flowers, we had fought that morning over something stupid. Soojoo had found letter molds and spelled out 'I AM SORRY' in different colors of jello on the kitchen table. We were like that, never seeking blame in the end, just sharing forgiveness. Soojoo was just unique about it.
I refused to be in a mournful mood with a glass full of jello. I smiled at my memories and destroyed the jello's symmetry with a spoon. It was well chilled and tasted wonderful. The irony of the day was not lost on me, finding Soojoo's name in the journal and the three-layered jello. There was pain, but there were also good memories. I decided to concentrate on the memories that shown brightest. The pain would have to take a backseat.
"Thanks for the jello." Jennie was busy watching the hall as I spoke. She turned to me with an honest smile. She really needed to smile more and so did I.
"Your time is done here," Jennie said cheerfully, "what will you do with your day?" I looked around the room and felt a kind of affinity towards the place. I hadn't been here long, but I was comfortable here, for now.
"The work here is kind of therapeutic. I wouldn't mind staying on if you can use me." Jennie looked at me with curiosity. I could almost see her thinking. It wasn't the reaction I expected.
"Prep or the line?" Jennie asked when her mind was made up.
"The line. Might as well learn it all," I said honestly. Jennie laughed before she spoke.
"1:00, you'll just love the clean up." Jennie had a mischievous grin on her face. I had seen it on another woman before. I smiled graciously, somewhat wishing I would have said prep.
Clean up was a bitch. Jennie was adamant about sanitation. Nothing was clean until she inspected it and it usually didn't pass on the first inspection. Luckily, there were four of us slaves so the work wasn't totally oppressing. I washed hundreds of dishes, pots and pans, a lot of them more than once. The floor was done twice. Jennie would find the grime in places Sherlock Holmes would have missed. She seemed to relish finding issues when I thought I was done. I think she took my volunteerism as a challenge. I sucked it up and by the time we were done, I would have confidently eaten off the floor.
I spent the next four weeks learning the hard part of running a soup kitchen. Jennie began to trust me to manage the deliveries. She was hesitant at first and I don't believe she had ever allowed anyone else to do it in the past. The first time she watched me like a hawk. It was simple inventory control to me, but to her it was like lopping off an arm. Reluctantly, she began to trust I wasn't going to screw it all up.
We would receive both ordered goods and donated goods. The donated had a very short shelf life, the reason the grocery store donated them in the first place. It was priority that these short-lived items found a place on the next day's menu and everything was visibly marked so nothing expired would ever find its way onto a plate.
I watched Jennie develop menus. This was something she would never relinquish control over. It was as much art as science. The expiration dates drove some of it and experience drove the rest. She worked up to five days in advance, solidifying a day's menu as it drew near. It was not something you could easily automate. There were food clashes that needed to be avoided and last minute donations that needed to be squeezed in. She allowed me to watch, but laughed when I offered to help. This menu was her domain and it would take an army to drag it away.
The army arrived a week later in the form of microscopic soldiers. I walked into work to find Jennie, pale and sweating, slumped on stool trying to work on the menus. Her eyes were bloodshot and I could tell she hadn't slept the night before. She looked absolutely miserable.
"Go home," I said compassionately.
"Can't, too much to do." Jennie covered her mouth with her hand when she spoke. Her voice was raspy like something was stuck in her throat.
"Give me the keys," I said forcibly, "and go home. You're going to get everyone sick." I think it was the thought of contamination that finally convinced her. Reluctantly, she handed me the keys.
"I promised Kai," Jennie said softly while looking around. It was important to her that I understood why she was here, as sick as she was. I understood, maybe the only one who could.
"I will make sure the promise is kept." I said it with conviction because I meant it. When Jennie's hesitant red eyes meet mine, I added, "I promise." Her eyes sparkled for a moment as she held my gaze.
"Thank you." Jennie moved off hesitantly.
I ran the City Kitchen for the next three days. I had to send Jennie home every morning those three days. I made it easy for her to leave, everything was in perfect shape and I was the picture of confidence. It couldn't have been farther from the truth. I had no idea how Jennie did it seven days a week. I felt like I was being pulled in ten directions at once. Workers didn't show, deliveries were late, menus didn't fit supplies and clean up ran later than it should. I screwed up the prep list on the first day sending the next two days' menus into turmoil. The days were long and grueling. Jennie had made it look so easy. With the help of some of the more experienced volunteers, we were able to pull it together at the last minute. 'Sugar Magnolia' always played at 4:00 and people were fed. I was a stressed mess.
