In
the wake of the storm, a new sky appeared, clear with hope. Smoke pirouetted happily from chimneys as
hearths warmed up kitchens and stoves balanced pots with water dancing in
them. A flurry of activity exploded
around the tiny kitchen as the cook got in the way of the helper, who crossed
paths with the dishwasher, who hindered the servers. Diya ran from the kitchen to the dining hall
to the patio, her long skirt flowing with her movements, its bells chiming to
her steps. Radiant smile followed her
everywhere enhanced by the bright red lipstick, eclipsing the creases between
her brows. Her jangling bangles drowned
out the sound of her gritting teeth as she hid all her concerns in the shadows,
behind the fire in her eyes.
Tourists
seemed to have besieged her restaurant unseasonably and she flittered like a
butterfly, charming her guests. On the
patio, she heard the absence of music, only the sound of crackle from the
speakers and twirled to look for Cary. Spotting
him by a table indoors talking to some guests, she walked towards him. After several distractions, somebody needed a
fork, a table had a water spill needing immediate attention, and a server had
trouble understanding an accent, she finally made it to where Cary stood. His blond curls danced on his forehead, while
his green eyes remained cool even as the temperature of the conversation seemed
to be climbing. Catching a few slurs and
unreasonable demands from the guest, Diya realized that Cary had his hands full. She flagged down the new guy, currently
helping out in the bar, before making her way into the kitchen.
At
first sight, the scene in the kitchen appeared chaotic. But she knew, there was order within that
chaos, her team had it all under control.
Scanning around the small room, through the tight space, behind steel
shelves, through the steamy haze, she looked for her baker. She tried the refrigerator room and found no
sign of the sweet girl who whipped up fabulous sweet treats with precision and
creativity. A dribble of sweat began a
journey from Diya’s temple down the side of her face, which she managed to
flick away with a determined flip of her long hair. Just as she was about to go back out to the
main floor, she heard the back door squeak behind her. Her baker was sneaking in, bringing with her
the odor of cigarette smoke. Diya rolled
her eyes, let out a slow breath, and walked out to face the room full of
tourists and their demands. Running
right into Cary, she looked up into his smiling eyes and understood that once
again, a drama had been averted.
At
last, the evening began to wind down as few guests dawdled, then finally
stepped out of the restaurant. The staff
cleaned and packed while Diya and Cary took a breather. They sat at the bar, basking in the much
needed success of the evening. He
enjoyed a glass of bourbon, while she nursed a cosmopolitan between slender
fingers. They raised their glasses and
with a clink cheered, to the evening, to their partnership, to their love.
Diya
set her empty glass down and turned sideways to rest her left elbow on the
bar. With her head resting on her hand,
she gazed into her husband’s eyes. She
reflected on their journey together, the path laden with mudslides and thorns
and petals of roses. They had trudged
along, traversed together, and danced their way, hand in hand. Their son safe and settled in college, they
could finally live their dream and look ahead.
Cicadas started their music as if on cue, as the stars gazed down from
the sky to admire the journeys below. Returning
her gaze back to her husband, Diya saw the gleam in his calm eyes and smiled.
From
the corner of her eyes, she sensed a shadow rise behind him. Her gaze shifted to look up over his shoulder
and it froze. Cary looked at his wife and exclaimed, “Diya, you okay?”
“Zora.”
Escaped from Diya’s lips as her face turned white.
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