Then at the four lobster dinners being placed on the table.
His voice was quiet when he spoke.
“Then why was I told to prepare a fifth lobster?”
Claire’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth.
Ethan looked up.
“What?”
The chef nodded toward the kitchen.
“Mrs. Hayes has had a standing dinner arrangement here for years. Her meal was supposed to be prepared personally.”
Claire stared at him.
“That can’t be right.”
The chef gave her a puzzled look.
“Why not?”
Claire opened her mouth.
No words came out.
The chef turned back to me.
“Mrs. Hayes, I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do.”
He looked at the water glass in front of me.
“This restaurant has always considered you a guest of honor.”
Claire’s face changed.
Her mother leaned forward.
“Guest of honor?”
The chef nodded.
“She has been one of the reasons this kitchen has survived difficult years.”
Ethan stared at me.
I lowered my eyes.
The chef continued.
“Before this restaurant became what it is today, Mrs. Hayes came here regularly. Not because she had money to waste. Because she believed in what we were trying to build.”
Claire looked confused.
“What does that mean?”
The chef took a breath.
“Twenty-two years ago, this restaurant nearly closed.”
He looked at me.
“Mrs. Hayes was working here at the time.”
Ethan slowly turned toward me.
“You worked here?”
I nodded.
“For a while.”
Claire laughed nervously.
“You were a waitress?”
The chef corrected her.
“She was the night kitchen supervisor.”
Claire’s smile disappeared.
The chef looked at me again.
“She came in after finishing her other jobs. She worked until sunrise. She helped us organize the kitchen, reduce waste, and keep the staff together when everyone else was preparing to leave.”
