All Our Yesterdays

Medicine

There are many hidden secrets behind every kitchen door. Unless you've worked in a kitchen, it's hard to understand the chaotic dance of a dinner rush. Coded language, constant personality clashes, and thick-as-blood camaraderie are side dishes to every entree you've ever ordered.

That's not to mention the pain of standing for 10 hours without any breaks while you continue dead-lifting a 50 lb. box of frozen chicken while stooped over in the freezer as your "non-slips" are freezing to the ground. That's just the morning of the day. Now, down a guy after he took two fingers off in the Robot Coupe and your busboy having to walk out with him to a hospital because he doesn't speak English and may be in the country illegally, there is very little service leaving the kitchen. All-the-while causing the head chef to serve up his famous meal that will serve everyone before the grill closes.

I've had a long hard day.

Staring back at my reflection in the mirror, I make sure my tie is straight. Checking the long fabric that hangs off my neck to my belt I think of the words Carter mumbles to me after every shift "Your thingy is crooked."

Untying my tie I grab both sides, making sure the wide end is twice as long as the other before knotting it like before.

"You look fine, just don't get all blushy when a pretty girl walks through the door."

I glance behind me just as Carter flings her bag onto the sofa in my office, penetrating my wondering mind.

"You know I can't resist your beautiful grace." I tease, disregarding my burnt orange dress tie before checking my appearance one last time and making my way towards Carter. "The minute you stepped into the building my cheeks got this rosy red tint to them..." Reaching up to touch my cheek I can tell she is trying to hide her smile "Your charm just blew me away as I saw that..." I look to see that her neatly brushed hair from this morning is now all in knots. "...fur ball on top your head."

She pushes me away as we both laugh "I meant with the interviews." She smiles "I saw some nice looking girls out there. So...don't get...nervous." She starts tugging at her tangled ponytail with scrunched eyes and gritted teeth.

"Here..." I reach up, taking it from her grip as I try to softly loosen the knots. "What did you do, play kill or die at recess?"

"No-Ow!" As an instinct, her hand reaches up to the chunk of hair I almost pulled out.

"What happened to coloring at the round table during playtime?"

I don't need to see her face to know she is rolling her eyes at me right now. "I'm nearly 13, Chandler."

"You just turned 12, Car."

"9 months ago!" She reminds me just like she has been reminding me the past 4 months while dropping small hints about her birthday party. I pull out the rubber band from her brunette hair just before she spins around to face me. "Which brings me to my present..."

"Whoa." I stop her "You know the rules, no mentioning birthday gifts when George could be in earshot."

We both look towards the door to make sure he isn't standing there. "Sorry, I didn't think it was that bad-" She mumbles

"You didn't have to clean it up."

I remember my 13th birthday pretty well. My mom just received the news that she was pregnant with Carter and my dad recently got laid off from his job. It was the birthday I knew things were going to be a little different. And not in a bad way. It was small but it was special. There was a traditional cake and a few party hats. My grandma brought balloons and my grandpa made sure to bring the noisemakers I loved so much. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday.