Crash, bam, alacazam

BEAUTY AND THE FEAST

 

She easily winks one emerald green eye at a time. Rose bud lips
pucker as her long, fair, white hands wave a 'hello' to Joseph, host superb. It's Sunday and that means Family Night at Maggie's Place. Slanting rays of evening are already bringing night too fast. It takes effort for her to oversee the kitchen, taste, suggest, a little more salt, perhaps a drop or two of lemon on the salmon, without upsetting the cooks.

 

Her five waitresses arrive within ten minutes of each other. That is good. They all are wearing their new outfits, medium green with tan cuffs, belts, tan sandals. Dolly's skirt is not good. It's too short and too late today to do anything about it but do something soon, she will. As soon as Maggie's back is turned, Dolly gives her the finger and acting like a spoiled child, sticks her tongue out at her boss.

 

Tonight's special is roast beef, cut to order, good, rich gravy,  with the house's unbelievably delicious roast potatoes. Maggie's mother used to do them a special way and taught her daughter her secret. There is a choice of three veggies out of six presented, plus a side dish of pasta, beverage and a dessert, all for fifteen bucks per person. Children's meals are only six dollars.  Maggie doesn't like prices with ninety-five or ninety-nine endings. No reservations are accepted. Maggie's Place is full every Friday and almost full the other nights of the week.

 

Joseph is everywhere while he is still able to keep Maggie in his view.  His huge almost teen-like crush on her is consuming. He fights his mind that is begging him to take a chance, ask her to the theater, to a football game, to his apartment. Ha, he laughs at himself when threads of desire work their way through him as if he were a needle with a big eye. Movies unreel in his head. What move can he make?

 

 From what was to be a delightful, cool evening, at 6 p.m. on the dot, thunder begins to rumble, lightning electrifies the sky.The expected dinner crowd melts, dissolves into a few stragglers who drip all over the clean floor. Joseph attends them, confers with the cooks, the waitresses, right before the electricity goes off. He brings candles to each table and with a bit of charm lights each one. Cooking ceases as ranges, ovens automatically shut down. While some of the specials remain hot, the waitresses bring dinners to the meager few, sit down themselves and enjoy their freebees. Maggie mumbles under her breath as she blames god for the poor timing of his raging too long storm.

 

By eight o'clock the candles have burned down to globs of melted wax. The few families ate, paid for their meals and surely struggled through the storm to get home. Street lights are out. Traffic is minimal. The waitresses they may leave if they wish, and they all wish. Joseph stays.
Maggie stays, has hundreds of things to take care of. Cash into the safe, dishes cleared, stacked with the remains of the few meals still clinging to the dinner plates. She will not use the tap during the electrical storm, stays away from the windows.

 

This is no big deal to Joseph. He is delighted to be alone with Maggie, lights a few candles as he builds up his courage to make a move. Words come slowly, discussions are short. The candlelight on her face is magic. He takes her hand, holds it gently across the table for two, waits a moment expecting her to draw it away from his grasp. She does not.

 

Rain still pummels the street, the roof. Flashes of lightning electrify her green eyes. Joseph looks up, silently thanks his god for this opportunity and for the delightful feast of dinner alone with Maggie.

They indulge themselves, don't think about the storm, are there when the sun rises. Maggie gets the kitchen cleaned up, ready for the cooks.