Foolish Wisdom
13 Final Exam
SEX IS A GREAT stress reliever. But it only lasts so long. By Thursday morning the day of my “final” I was practically crying on the phone when I talked to Hannah.
“There are fifty reservations for tonight, Hannah. Fifty! How am I supposed to cook that many chateaubriand? Honey, I’m scared.”
“I know, Brian. But I know you were scared when you took down the Kowalskis and when you taunted Kirby and his gang. I know you were scared when you faced Chad and even when you made a mockery of that kid in Kokomo. Brian, being scared doesn’t make you a coward. It’s okay. It’s okay to be scared, honey. You might feel all alone right now, but you aren’t. One way or another, every one of your girlfriends and boyfriends are with you today.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m just so afraid I’ll let everyone down.”
“Did you let us down when Jessica asked you to sleep with her?”
“Hannah…”
“If you could face that and not let us down, just because you promised us, you cannot possibly let us down by cooking some hunks of meat in a restaurant.”
“That really puts it in perspective,” I laughed. Hunks of meat?
“It’s not you the pressure’s on, anyway,” Hannah said. “You will probably never get out of the kitchen. Jennifer and Courtney are going to take all the heat.”
“What?”
“Wait. Didn’t you know? Your Kokomo girlfriends insisted that no matter who orders it, they will be the ones who serve the Chateau Brian. The other waitresses will be serving everything else, but Jennifer and Courtney will serve every order that you cook.”
“Oh, my God!”
“We aren’t being figurative when we say we are all with you on this, Brian. We are really all with you.”
“I love you all so much.”
“About time you realized that.”
“I wish you were going to be here.”
“Someone has to feed the horses,” she laughed.
“Have you had a good summer?”
“Of course I have, Anna. In spite of my little intestine trying to digest my large intestine right now and being beaten to death by the butterflies in my stomach, this has been the best summer ever. How can I ever thank you for hosting me?”
“You can take back the five pounds I’ve gained,” Anna laughed.
“Sorry?”
“Not on your life. And, Brian, I want to thank you for how circumspect you’ve been with the girls. Oh, I know you’ve fooled around and I really don’t want to know the details. They’ve filled me in on more than I ever wanted to know. But I trust all three of you in a way that I never expected to trust teenagers. That’s safe, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Anna. I will never betray your trust or theirs,” I said. “I promise.”
“I know what that means. I also know that things change tomorrow when Jennifer turns sixteen. I don’t know exactly how it changes, but she is on birth control. Still, I’d appreciate it if you make sure you… oh God!… Do you have any idea how hard it is for a girl’s mother to say this? I mean it for both girls, but until they were both sixteen it didn’t hit home. Please always practice safe sex, Brian. I know you’ve had the standard health lectures, but if you need them I’ll even buy the condoms. I just want you all to be happy and safe.” Anna was leaking tears. This must have been awfully hard for her to say. I couldn’t let her continue to worry.
“Anna, I love you like my mother. And I love Jennifer and Courtney. You need to know something we haven’t just announced to all the parents because there really hasn’t been any need. We amended the original agreement, remember? We decided that the no-penetration clause wasn’t restrictive enough. We made it no skin-to-skin genital contact. It’s amazing how much leeway that gives if you’re determined. But we amended the agreement in June, too. But not as far as you think. We added the words ‘until both or all parties involved reach the age of sixteen.’ First off, you should understand that both Jennifer and Courtney will be sixteen, but I’m still a month and a half away from my sixteenth. It’s not like everything is going to change tomorrow. But you should also know that we reinstated the no-penetration clause until age seventeen. I know that isn’t a lot of reprieve or comfort to a mother, but maybe it helps to know that Jennifer and Courtney can’t… uh… put anything in… uh… for another year.”
“Holy shit,” Anna sighed. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Okay, mister, we’re still early and you don’t need to be at the restaurant for another half-hour, so we’ll drive around a little longer. Since you’ve answered hard questions, I’m going to ask a couple more—and I promise I’ll be honest with you as well.” Anna abruptly turned into the Christ Our King Church parking lot. No other cars were there. She put the car in park and turned to look at me directly. “How do you really feel about me?”
“I just told you, Anna. I love you like my mother.” What was she getting at?
“Brian, how would you feel if I became… more involved… with your parents?”
“If?” I asked. There was a lot of evidence in the back of my mind that Mom and Dad and Anna were more than just the parents of boyfriends and girlfriends.
“Let’s keep it hypothetical, okay?”
“Anna, I am totally, head-over-heels in love with both Courtney and Jennifer. I can’t even tell the difference between how much I love them. Nor with Hannah. I think that when I give myself a chance to consider each one of them, I’ll discover that I equally love at least four others. When I stop to think about how we were all pretty much raised to think that there was never supposed to be more than one man and one woman in a relationship, my mind just sort of short circuits. I can’t even begin to reconcile that theory with what I know in my heart to be true. If that is true of me, why would I suppose that my parents or that you wouldn’t be able to love more than just one other person? It doesn’t require my permission or my approval, but just in case you want it, you have both. Just do me one favor, Anna, please.”
“What, Brian?”
“If you come between them, make sure they come, too.” She hesitated a moment then burst out laughing. She put the car in gear and headed toward the restaurant.
“Just so you know, by the way,” she said as I was getting out of the car, “I might be too preoccupied this weekend to know which bedroom any of you are sleeping in. As long as no one has to investigate the noise.” I stared at her all the way out of the parking lot. I guess she got my mind off the big deal at the restaurant. I supposed I’d better go in.
All the other cooks were there when I walked in and they applauded. I was so embarrassed. Crap! Bill always handled the grill, which meant that he cooked the meat. Tonight, that would be all the meat except the chateaubriand. He had a salad chef who would handle both the salads and the gazpacho. The sous chef would make sure all the prep work was done and that the vegetables and potatoes were cooked. The other guy I recognized as the lunch chef. I was told that he was handling the baked goods, including the chocolate decadence and the popovers. That was a surprise. Bill told me I had to keep one eye out to make sure the popovers were tended properly, but he said it with a wink at the other chef. He had a couple other desserts he was prepping, too, in case anyone wanted something different than the signature dessert. The salad chef went over the gazpacho recipe with me, including coring the garlic. I noted there were basil leaves aplenty to float on the soup. He was making it in small batches according to my original recipe partly because even the industrial strength VitaMix that Bill had purchased only made about a quart at a time. Tonight, the salads were all being served individually instead of off a salad bar, so I helped wash romaine and radishes before I had to start prepping the meat. The salad chef showed me his technique for turning the radishes into little flowers on the plate.
Eventually, it was time for me to set out the ingredients for the chateaubriand and get it ready to cook. Timing. I had to remember that when an order came in, the customer would receive an appetizer, soup, salad, and a popover before they were ready for the main course. While I was handling the chateaubriand and glacé for each order, Bill was handling any other meat orders. Filet mignon had been off the menu all week because all the tenderloin from Bill’s cows was reserved for the full pound cuts of the chateaubriand. At five-twenty-five, Bill gathered all the chefs and wait staff in the kitchen. Crystal was ready to open the doors of the restaurant but waited until we had our meeting. I looked at Jennifer and Courtney and they were in the abso-fucking-lutely cutest western outfits with red boots and short skirts. They had to have ordered the same ones that Hannah and Sam had. They had tiny little aprons on that were embroidered with the words “Brian’s Girlfriend” on them. When the hell did they do that?
“Well, as all of you know, this is Brian’s final exam as an intern at the Tally Ho this summer,” Bill said. Crystal was already motioning him to hurry up. “Tonight, he is Chef Brian and we are hereby giving him this new chef jacket and hat.” He handed me a white coat and real chef’s hat. How cool! I slipped them on and adjusted the hat on my head over my hairnet. Then Bill pulled out one of the checkered neckerchiefs that all the chefs wore and tied it around my neck. “Congratulations, Brian.”
“Thank you, Bill. This is really great. Thanks to all of you.” The chefs and wait staff all applauded and Crystal turned to go unlock the doors.
“There’s one last instruction,” Bill said. “I didn’t want to give Brian anything to worry about in advance.” What do you mean, not worry about? I’ve been a wreck for the past week. “Traditionally, chateaubriand is carved tableside by the chef. As soon as an order is ready, Brian will follow Jennifer and Courtney—like he has been all summer—and will carve the steak at the table. As soon as he has carved the steaks and served the first slice to each customer, he will retreat and Jennifer and Courtney will take care of the rest. Remember, these three are only dealing with the chateaubriand. Any other need at your tables, you take care of. Got it?” There were nods and the wait staff left to start taking orders. I just stood there and stared. I thought I was staying in the kitchen all night. How was I going to handle multiple orders of chateaubriand and go out and carve them at the same time? What the fucking hell?
“This is why a good restaurant has multiple chefs,” Bill said from beside me. I looked up at him. “You are the master chef tonight. We are all here to make you successful. If you have something in process when you need to go carve, you simply tell me and I take it from where you left off. You step back in when you return. You can’t stop and chitchat more than to say hello and that you hope they enjoy the meal. No matter whom you see. Do your job, be polite, and return to the kitchen. Everyone knows you can’t be cooking and chatting at the same time. Are you ready?” I nodded.
“Order up!” one of the waitresses called from the counter. Game on!
Part of the trick was to make sure that any non-standard food items were prepared for delivery at the same time as the chateaubriand. When an order included, say chicken, in addition to the prix fixe meal I had to coordinate so the chateaubriand was ready to be delivered three minutes before the chicken. That was so I’d have time to go out in my chef’s hat and jacket and carve the chateaubriand. Then it was served at the same time as the chicken. I couldn’t believe how well it worked.
For the first hour, things went well. People moved in, got their orders, I carved, and people left. I kept counting. Forty steaks left. Thirty steaks left. It was seven-fifteen and things started getting interesting.
“This is not medium rare!” the man in front of me declared. He looked at me angrily and the other five people at his table looked down in embarrassment. Bill had told me that some people just couldn’t be pleased. It looked perfectly medium rare to me and the new electronic meat thermometer that Bill had invested a ton in had confirmed it to be exactly 132°.
“I’m sorry sir. Is it too well done or too rare for you?”
“What?”
“I’m going to replace your order, but since your tastes are unique, I want to make sure I bring you what you really want. Is it too well done or too rare?”
“You are the chef. You are supposed to know these things.”
“I’m actually a chemist, sir. I’ve learned in cooking, though, that instrumentation is not the same as individual taste. I will happily make you another steak, but I want to be sure I correctly match your unique taste buds.”
“This… Never mind. It’s too rare.” I snatched the plates away and returned to the kitchen. Bill waved at me.
“Be just a second. I started cooking it as soon as I realized who was out there.”
“What the fuck is going on, Bill?” Jennifer sidled up beside me and gave me a little kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t worry, lover. That’s William the jackass’s father. He’s with the high school principal and the school superintendent. He’ll settle down. He doesn’t have a choice.”
Bill pulled the new steak and Jennifer adeptly arranged it on the platter with fresh vegetables and potatoes. I followed her to the table, stroking my knife along the steel as I approached. I sliced the meat under his critical eye and served his wife first and then him.
“I hope you don’t mind, sir, but we replaced all the vegetables and potatoes as well. We wanted everything to be perfect.” He humphed. “Say, aren’t you Bill Garth’s father?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I should have known, sir. I’ve only met your son once, but there’s a striking resemblance.” I smiled at him and the other guests. The principal was swallowing a huge gulp of water. I left the table. I could tell Jennifer was holding it in, but she made it all the way to the kitchen before she snorted.
“What a surprise to see you, Chef Brian.” It was my turn to snort, only it wasn’t a laugh. Holy shit!
“Miss Polly! It’s me who is surprised to see you here! I hope you enjoyed the gazpacho.”
“As delightful as I remembered. The Tally Ho has long been one of my favorite restaurants. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to sample one of my favorite dishes.”
“I hope the chateaubriand meets your expectations, ma’am. Frankly, I’m a little overwhelmed.”
“I’d love a tour of the kitchen,” she said.
“I’ll ask Bill… uh… Mr. Price, the executive chef. I’m sure something can be arranged. Please don’t think I’m rude, but I have four more steaks cooking and have to run. Enjoy!”
I ran back to the kitchen.
“Bill! Miss Polly from The Homemakers’ Hour is here! She wants a tour of the kitchen.”
“Well, we’re half an hour from shutting down. After you serve these we only have a party of six coming in. You’ve almost made it, Brian.” Crap! I’d long since lost track of how many meals we’d served. Had I really already served forty-three? With four ready to be served—unfortunately at two different tables—I only had one table left to go. “Invite her in to watch the last batch being prepared if she’ll delay her dessert.” He was so calm. I took a deep breath and followed Courtney to the next table. As soon as it was served I turned and Jennifer was wheeling the next table’s dinner up. I just kept carving.
“Miss Polly, I’m about to start preparing the last three orders of the night. If you’d like to delay dessert for a few minutes, I’d love to show you our kitchen.”
“Why, thank you, Brian. Jess, please join us.”
I led them to the kitchen. Once there, I introduced Miss Polly to the other chefs and to Jennifer and Courtney.
“And this is Jess,” I said turning to the guy who followed us into the kitchen. He was pointing a camera at me. I froze.
“Oh, just ignore him,” Miss Polly said, turning me toward the stove. “Show us how you prepare Chateau Brian.” It was like magic. I heard the words, ‘order up,’ and went into gear. I was really enjoying this and even turned to Miss Polly.
“You know, last year you had me demo with Candace Jones. She’s since changed her name to become not only my girlfriend, but my sister as well. She’s now Elaine Frost. She actually taught me how to make this dish and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t give her credit for it.”
“But these two young ladies are both wearing aprons that say ‘Brian’s Girlfriend’ on them. Now, Brian, we surprised you at the fair last year with the question ‘how many girlfriends do you have?’ I distinctly remember you saying five.”
“I knew you were on the other end of that question,” I laughed.
“So how many girlfriends do you have?”
“Really?” She nodded. “Seventeen.” Miss Polly turned directly to the camera.
“I’m ready for dessert,” she squeaked.
Jennifer and Courtney both had their carts ready for the last three orders. I followed them to the table and stopped in my tracks. Mom, Dad, Anna, Elaine, Doreen, and Doug were sitting at the table. They all stood up to come and hug me. I was really crying now.
“Everybody!” I called to the restaurant at large. Most were enjoying an after-dinner cocktail or were being served their drinks. “I want to thank everyone for being here for my final internship project and I hope you all enjoyed your meals. This is my mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Frost, and my summer mom, Mrs. Pratt. These are my girlfriends, Doreen and Elaine and my good friend, Doug. And I want you all to know that Elaine is the person who taught me to cook chateaubriand, so if you didn’t like it, it was really her fault.”
Everyone laughed and applauded. I noticed that Jess had been recording it all. I sliced and served the meat and breathed a sigh of relief. The night was over!
Of course, it wasn’t really. The customers left—even Miss Polly—and the family all sat around the table long after everything was cleared away. Before Miss Polly left, she got me to promise to be on her show on Wednesday during the fair. What the heck. Any advertising I could do for Bill and Crystal by appearing on The Homemakers’ Hour with Miss Polly, I would happily do.
I couldn’t believe that we were still hanging out in the restaurant when midnight was rolling around. Jennifer, Courtney, Bill, Crystal, and I had pulled up chairs to the family table and I’d managed a few kisses on the cheek with Elaine and Doreen and a solid brother’s hug from Doug. Jennifer and Courtney had not been shy about greeting the three either and had presented each with an apron embroidered with “Brian’s Girlfriend” on it. Doug wasn’t too sure about that but shook his head and put the apron on. He probably would have been dubious about an apron embroidered with “Brian’s Boyfriend”, too. Then he got the coffee pot and refilled everyone’s cup. We were all laughing.
“Happy birthday to you,” Anna began singing. We all turned toward Jennifer. Crystal was holding a cake with sixteen candles on it. They should make a movie out of that. Oh, wait. They did. Molly Ringwald is cute but she doesn’t hold any of her sixteen candles to Jennifer Pratt. That’s my opinion. Maybe if Molly Ringwald was my girlfriend I’d feel differently.
We sang, had cake and ice cream (again) and finally went home. Mom and Dad came with us to Anna’s house and no one asked where they were sleeping.
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