touch by Melissa Haag

behind the counter toward a closed
door, “Go to the back room and hang up your stuff.  I’ll be right there.”  She
didn’t pause in her task.  A man stood waiting for his coffee to go.
    Pulling off my hat and gloves, I stepped around the end of
the counter and opened the door.  It led to a long spacious hallway with four
doors.  Two on each side.  To the right of the door, Mona had several coat hooks
and a rubber mat just below it.  Boots rested on it.  I’d be able to wear boots
here and have somewhere to keep them after I changed to sneakers.
    I hung my things on an available hook then looked around. 
The first door to the left, a small bathroom for employees, stood open. 
Further down the hall, also on the left, a supply room door stood open. 
Peeking inside, I saw supply racks, but also a counter and sink on the wall
connecting to the bathroom.  The doors to the right led to a utility room and
an office.
    Mona stepped through the hall a minute later.
    “There’s a steady stream of customers that come in
throughout the day.  For now, I could use your help prepping for the sandwiches
I offer.”  She walked to the supply room with the sink.  “This is where I do
the prep work.  The actual assembly I do out there.”  She quickly went over
what needed slicing or dicing, how to store it and told me to get her when I
finished.
    After she left, I looked at the work doubtfully.  There were
five tomatoes and a head of lettuce to dice thinly, an avocado to cut into
wedges and sprouts to wash.  I hoped she had more work than this.  Fifteen
minutes of pay wouldn’t go very far.  I washed everything and set it aside to
drain while getting the clear containers she used for her under-the-counter
refrigerators out front.  Her knives were much better than ours at home and cut
through everything with ease.  I carefully avoided my fingers.
    When I had one large container and two small ones filled and
covered with plastic wrap, I washed my hands and ventured out to the front.
    Mona seemed surprised to see me so soon, but directed me
where to place everything and then told me to watch her for a while.  She
certainly had a rhythm for what she did.  No move was wasted.
    Most of the customers ordered some variety of coffee.  I
tried to memorize the different ingredients and felt I understood the basics. 
Every now and again, someone ordered a sandwich.  Mona offered a limited menu. 
They all sounded great.  The turkey avocado one made my stomach growl and she
grinned at me.
    By lunch, I no longer just watched, but helpfully passed her
cups keeping pace with her.  She took a quick break to eat at a table with a
friend while I manned the machines.  The register took some getting used to,
but it appeared simple enough with a cheat sheet next to it indicating which
buttons to push.
    Mona flipped the sign from open to close at ten after one. 
The last customer climbed into his shiny grey car parked on the side of the
street outside the picture window.
    “You did great,” she said with a huge smile.  She moved
behind the counter and started putting together a sandwich.  Turkey Avocado.
    Although she’d given me an opportunity for a break, I’d only
used it to go to the bathroom.  I hadn’t brought money for eating figuring I’d
eat when I got home.
    “So what do you think?  Want to give the Sunday crowd a
try?”
    I didn’t think I’d been overly useful but agreed since she
invited me back.  I moved behind the counter and grabbed a washcloth and the
cleaning spray to wipe down the tables.  I’d done it periodically throughout
the day when I could.
    “You are a gem, Tessa,” she said walking around the counter
with the plated sandwich in one hand and the tip jar in the other.  “Most of the
time you’re doing stuff before I even tell you to do it.  You read minds?”
    I contained my startled laugh.  Barely.  “No.  I guess you
can thank my great Grandmother.  We make dinner together