Amanda smiled at her, relieved. “I mean, tell them it’s me, too. It’s all of us.”
From then on, the night sped up. There were no more one-on-one chats with Sabrina, only a few awkward moments in front of the microphone to offer a cheerful take on how the night was going, which was great. Given how many people there were at Frannie’s, there couldn’t be many at Mimi’s. She’d had a hard time holding on to their usual corner table for the Aarons, who came in every Thursday with their three boys after baseball. Sabrina wanted to give it to a big, noisy crew who must have come over from the local college, but Amanda held firm and slipped her loyal customers past the crowd in the bar, where they were making it abundantly clear that they loved the drink specials—and, Amanda knew, would order another round while they were waiting.
It felt like everyone in town was there. She saw Morty Rountree, famed for never wearing a shirt on his tractor between April and October, but wearing one now and braying cheerfully into the camera with his arm around his wife. “I don’t want her to cook every night,” he was declaring. “We like to get over here once every couple weeks or so, have the chicken.” Morty was a big presence, his wife more retiring and turning as best as she could away from the camera, but the affection between them was, as always, visible.
Frankie showed signs of wanting to follow the camera, but the rest of the staff were making sure she put in a full night’s work, and more than once Amanda saw Gus save her when she set off from clearing a table with far too heavy a tray. She’d learn—and judging from the crash Amanda heard from the serving station at one point, she was learning the hard way, like they all did. She wanted to rush back to help with the mess and make sure they got all the glass, but things were too busy out front. Instead, she found herself pointing the district’s new art teacher toward the bar and promising him the shortest wait she could manage.
“Oh man, I told you to come in, didn’t I? I didn’t know it would be like this—we’ll get you guys in as fast as we can.” She smiled at him, then peeped at the sleeping baby strapped to his chest.
“That’s okay,” his wife said. “We don’t care. This is fun. Not exactly what we expected when we left St. Louis.”
“Tell Mary Laura drinks are on us,” she said. “See you next week?” Last Tuesday, his weekly day at the elementary school, she’d been volunteering and wild with excitement. By Tuesday next this would all be over, but there wasn’t even time to think about that now.
Frannie’s party atmosphere kept flowing even when, leaving a few cameras behind, Sabrina slipped out, presumably to go do the same thing at Mimi’s. As the tables cleared out, Mary Laura started passing around samples of her concoctions, and Amanda, who liked her drinks sweet and embarrassing, grabbed the excuse to order a Long Way from Long Island Iced Tea to top off her Sex on the Prairie. By the time she noticed that Mary Laura had commandeered the letter sign outside (Happy with Your Messy Life? Fight the Food War with a Not-So-Sparkling Wine) she was utterly sold on the idea of the drink specials. It was brilliant. She felt brilliant. Even the text from Kenneth she found on her phone once she finally retrieved it from Mary Laura—a little snarky, but a good idea—didn’t dampen her mood.
The staff gathered around the bar as the various cleaning tasks wrapped up, playing to the camera as they postmortemed the night. Amanda felt a surge of love for them all. These were her friends. These guys were awesome. She never wanted to leave them. Gwennie had had multiple tables with toddlers and had taught one to say, “I love Fwannie’s best.” Mary Laura reported that the Soured on the City was going to be a permanent addition to the cocktail menu. Frankie’s feet hurt, casualties of the cool-but-flat Converse sneakers, and Gus offered to carry her to the car as the Food Wars crew started to fold up, shut down, and grab their own drinks.
Amanda really wasn’t ready to go home. Tomorrow, once the professional chefs showed up, things would probably be far more tense. This was the fun part, but