The Menu Board
by
Charley Marsh
Five a.m. and time to fulfill her obligation.
Fear squeezed Lily Ramirez’s chest until she couldn’t pull in another breath. What if the café’s patrons judged her to be a poor substitute for her popular parents? The café was not only all she knew, it was all she had left after her parents’ untimely death.
She dressed quickly and headed down the stairs to the café’s kitchen, savoring the first swallow of her dark, bitter coffee while she studied the familiar narrow space and decided what to cook for the café’s reopening. Nothing too ambitious – best to ease her way into it.
Lily grabbed a damp rag and the small cloisonné box of chalk her mother used on the menu board and stepped outside. An irregular shaped piece of black slate that hung next to the food service window, the menu board still held a list of the last meals her father had cooked. Tears sprang to her eyes. She dashed them away, then wiped the board clean.
A clean slate for a new beginning. She could do this. The café’s regulars would come, but if her food did not meet their expectations they would not return. It was all down to her.
Her mother had always insisted on writing the menu board herself. It felt strange to be standing there, in the same spot she had watched her mother stand on countless mornings.
She selected a piece of pale green chalk from the box and wrote the first item, a basic beef taco that she knew she could make with her eyes closed. Her fingers formed the words Beef Taco, but Specialty Beef Burrito appeared on the slate instead.
Shocked, Lily dropped the chalk and stepped back. Was she losing her mind? Maybe the strain of unexpectedly losing her parents had affected her more deeply than she had realized. She missed them terribly, felt lost without them.
She couldn’t afford to lose her mind. Today’s grand reopening of Lily’s Café had to succeed. Her future hinged on her ability to step into her father’s shoes and create food that people wanted to eat again and again.
Swallowing the lump of nerves lodged in her throat, Lily picked up the damp rag and scrubbed at the slate, but the Specialty Beef Burrito remained no matter how many times she passed the rag over it.
Okay. Fine. She would make the beef burrito. And she would also make the simple beef tacos. She picked up a blue piece of chalk and again wrote Beef Taco, but Cajun Fish Taco appeared in its stead.
Lily’s hand shook as she carefully placed the blue chalk back in the box. She took several deep breaths and released them. The familiar scent of the patio’s flowers and the drone of insects high in the two palm trees that flanked the patio’s back corners filled the air, calming her.
With a place too small for indoor dining, her parents had gambled that diners would enjoy an al fresco café. The inviting walled patio with its scarred, wooden tables topped with bright yellow umbrellas had been her childhood playground. There was nothing to fear here.
The piece of red chalk in the box beckoned her. Lily could practically hear it beg her to pick it up. She reached for it, snatched her hand back, then reached for it again and held it poised above the slate.
A memory came to her of her mother standing in the identical position, the sun reflecting off her shining black hair, an almost-smile on her lips and her eyes lit with mischief and excitement as she waited.
Waited for what?
Lily looked at the chalk in her hand and at the beautiful blue and gold cloisonné box that held the colored chalk. Every morning, her mother had written out the day’s menu on the board with the colored chalk. She had even referred to the cloisonné box as “her special chalk.” Lily had assumed that was because the chalk was colored and not white like most chalk, but maybe there was more to it than that.
Another memory came, bright and clear as if it was happening right then.
Her mother, writing out the menu, and then . . . and then she would laugh and read it to Lily’s father through the service window.
A thought came to her, a thought so out there, so bizarre, that she immediately discarded it, only to pick it up again.
They didn’t know what the café would be serving until her mother wrote out the menu.
The thought took her breath away. She wrote Beef Tacos again. Tortilla Soup appeared on the slate. Vegetable Fajita was the last menu item. Lily set the chalk back in the box and snapped the lid on it. Four items were plenty for this first day.
Staring at the menu board, she realized she felt something more than the debilitating heartache of loss that had filled her since her parents’ untimely death. Whatever magic they had discovered or created together was still there. And now it was hers.
She could do this.
All that day, the customers came in a steady stream, expressed their delight that Lily’s Café was back in business, and left with full bellies. By the end of the day, Lily knew she was going to be all right.
She could hardly wait to see what she would be serving tomorrow.
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Charley Marsh is a firm believer that variety is the spice of life. She reads and writes in multiple genres, including mystery, science fiction, and romance, and includes mystery and romance in many of her stories. You can find her books at all retailers and more about Charley at https://charleymarshbooks.com/