I'll Take Everything You Have by James Klise

Author:James Klise
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Workman Publishing Company
Published: 2023-01-05T19:29:53+00:00

nineteen

I kept the letter brief.

Something unexpected has happened, I wrote. Something wonderful. I’ve met new people. I spared Mary the details. The important thing, I explained, is that this time apart has shined a light on our time together. I explained how it wasn’t right for people like us to make sweet-sounding promises to each other or anyone, and that I would hold her in highest esteem for as long as I lived. I reminded her of our mutual respect as we remained friends forever. I signed the letter using the affectionate nickname she’d given me: Always-a-Gentleman Joe.

I didn’t explain a word of it to Bernie. He wouldn’t understand.

On our way to the Lago Vista, we passed three corner mailboxes before I found the courage to drop the envelope into the fourth. I felt proud and excited, even a little afraid. But it was the right thing to do, a kindness to her and a kindness to me. And then it was done.

***

Hannigan declared it “too goddamn hot” to use the kitchen ovens, especially for a Sunday, so he set up charcoal grills in the alley. He and his sweaty crew stood in a smoky line, icy towels from the freezer draped around their necks.

I stayed inside, plating tomato aspic onto beds of lettuce. The aspic had to be cut from large tin molds. The upside was carrying the ice-cold tins from the cooler to the prep table.

I hoped keeping busy would take my mind off Raymond, but it didn’t. On one hand, I felt relieved to have told him about the job and pleased that he had responded so favorably. It felt like a wall between us coming down. Still, his remark about getting married was only another example of how different our lives were and always would be.

I carried a tray of salads back to the cooler, where Jackson was pulling out sheets of chocolate cake.

“We got that anniversary party up in the ballroom, Joe. Need your help getting this onto plates.”

I was only halfway through the aspic, but the ballroom was air-cooled. Nodding, I swapped my soiled apron for a clean one.

Jackson put on his white jacket, gloves, and toque, as he did whenever he went upstairs. We loaded pastry carts with the chocolate cake and raspberry glaze, one of the hotel’s signature desserts. The sweet fragrance filled the elevator.

On the third floor, we pushed the carts to the Empress Ballroom. The air temperature dropped twenty degrees. The guests filled a dozen round tables, as big as some weddings. At one end of the ballroom, we found two tables set with rows of dessert plates.

Holding a tray for Jackson, I whispered, “When are you playing policy again?”

He set the slices on the plates one by one. “Not for a few days.”

“Whenever you play, count me in.”

“I’ve got a little problem, Joe.”

I thought he meant with the cake. “Need me to run to the kitchen?”

“Not that kind of problem.” He turned his head, as if to make sure no servers were giving us the ear.

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