Back to the Good Fortune Diner by Vicki Essex Page A

riding?” he asked incredulously.
    “Never had time.” Or permission. Or money. Or the guts. They were creatures best enjoyed from afar. “You wanted to talk about payment?”
    It didn’t take long to work out her pay schedule. They could have had this conversation over the phone or via email, but she wasn’t complaining.
    “So, what do you think?” he ventured.
    “About Simon?” Was he expecting her to tell him it was going to be a piece of cake? That his son was the genius he said he was? “He’s got issues to work out. I won’t know until we jump into it.”
    “I have faith in you,” he said stoutly and grinned. “I know he’s in good hands. I was.”
    She did smile and blush at that.
    * * *
    U NFORTUNATELY FOR T IFFANY , she couldn’t go idle for a whole week while living under her parents’ roof, no matter how many excuses she came up with. Once her mother promised to pay her, however, she gave in and agreed to work at the diner. She couldn’t turn down the money. Besides, she was getting the feeling she was in her grandmother’s way. She didn’t know the reason for the tension between her and Sunny, but Poh-poh’ s rueful gaze was like a sack of sharp, pointy rocks on her back. Perhaps her grandmother resented her intruding on her private time at home.
    It was 9:00 a.m. and the kitchen was prepping for the lunch-hour rush. The sous-chef, Manny, had been doing the prep work for their family for more than seventeen years. Tiffany hollered a greeting, and he grinned toothily. “Joh-san, mui mui.” Good morning, little sister.
    “¿Hola, Manny, qué pasa?” She greeted him the same way she had as a teen. He’d patiently allowed her to practice her Spanish on him in exchange for a few phrases in Cantonese. There was a bit of salt to his thick, black hair, and a few more lines in his face, but his smile and his eyes were as bright as ever.
    “Your parents told me you were home,” he said. “All this time and you didn’t come to see your sook-sook? ” He gave her a hurt look.
    “I’ve been busy looking for work, tío. ”
    “Why? You could work here.” Her disdain must have shown because then he cackled. “C’mon, help me out here. Can you start the deep fryer going and throw in the egg rolls?”
    She donned an apron and hairnet, turned on the fryer and got the egg rolls out of the freezer. Poh-poh used to make them from scratch, but the demand was too high to keep up with and they didn’t have the manpower to produce them fresh anymore.
    When the lunch rush came, Daniel took over in the kitchen, and Manny went to his afternoon job at a nearby farm. Her mother made her work at the steam table, scooping sticky food into foam take-out boxes.
    A few regulars recognized Tiffany and proceeded to interrogate her about her return to Everville. The ones who didn’t know her asked if she was new to town.
    “That’s my daughter,” her mom would say proudly. And then they’d commiserate over how young Rose looked, how she and Tiffany could be sisters, and how nice it was that her grown daughter was working for the family business. Tiff might as well have not been there—even as an adult, people treated her like some artifact on display in a gallery. She would have preferred to stay in the back where no one could gawk at her.
    Tony arrived at the tail end of the lunch rush, frowning at her as he approached. “You serve people with that face?”
    “Gee, thanks, Dad.”
    “Smile. Show everyone how pretty you are. People buy more when you treat them kindly, you know.”
    That was her dad. Always thinking about the bottom line. “Aren’t you here a little early?” she asked.
    “I’m preparing food for a catering event. When it slows down, come to the back and help me.”
    “I need her up front,” Rose insisted. “It’s still busy.”
    “I said after it slows down,” he shot back. “Why don’t you ever listen?”
    She glowered back at him, and for a heart-stopping second, it looked