The Chicken Sisters(16)
Tomorrow? Friday? Amanda thought this was just a get-to-know-you visit, but apparently their appearance on Food Wars was a done deal. Sabrina must have noticed the surprise that rustled around the table.
“We’re already here,” she said, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “We’re filming, and we start by assuming that we’re going all the way with this. If things don’t go well, we pull the plug, but it’s rare that we can’t make something happen. We can do this, people.” She leaned back and beamed, her confidence lighting all their faces. “For right now, just get ready for a regular shift, and then a wild ride of a week.”
There was laughter and some nudging of elbows. They wanted, every last one of them, to make this happen. The more talk there had been before the Food Wars crew arrived, the more Amanda had realized that the show touched a nerve in nearly everyone. If she saw herself, and Nancy, as doyennes of a televised chicken empire, their friends and staff saw themselves among the merry band of colleagues who would surround them, the scene-stealing sidekicks, the wry, knowledgeable besties. Food Wars would make them all real, and it all started now.
“I thought you’d want to split us all up and get us to talk about each other behind our backs,” Mary Laura said.
“That comes later,” a cameraman said with mock seriousness, helping himself to a cookie. Sabrina, who was somehow managing to fit right in, laughed along with him.
“It does look like that,” she said, “but really we like to get everybody together at the beginning, just talking. I mean, of course we have a little fun with in-house rivalries, but it’s the big competition we really focus on. We’ll do the talk-to-the-camera stuff, but most of the time there are lots of people around, listening. So it’s not like we’re trying to corner anyone, or trick them. It comes out looking all secret, but it’s really all open and friendly.”
“Yep,” said the cameraman, whom Sabrina introduced as Gordo, with his mouth full. “So, who here hates each other? Raise your hands.” The staff giggled.
“We have a very friendly working relationship here,” Nancy said stiffly. Her cookie sat untouched in front of her. “Everyone works together; everyone does everything that needs to be done.”
“That’s just what Amanda said in her e-mails,” said Sabrina, and Amanda looked at her in surprise. Had she said that?
Sabrina went on. “That you guys were really a big family. Amanda’s your daughter-in-law, right? Any other family members work here?”
“My grandson, Gus, washes dishes,” Nancy said, smiling at Gus and putting an arm around Frankie. It was an unusually warm day for May, and Amanda could see a little sweat around Nancy’s hairline and under her nose. “He’s Franklin Augustus, actually. His sister, Frances—Frankie—is champing at the bit to join the family business, but Amanda thinks she’s too young.”
Actually, Frankie had repeatedly said, “Gross,” to Amanda’s suggestions that she join her brother for a shift or two, but that wasn’t how Amanda had described it to Nancy, and it certainly wasn’t how Frankie was playing it now.
“I’m going to bus tables this weekend,” she said.
“That’s perfect,” Sabrina said. “But you two, Nancy, Amanda, how long have you been working together?”
“Oh,” Nancy said, “ever since Amanda married my son, Frank.”
Amanda noticed that the cameraman lifted his camera onto his shoulder and slid unobtrusively to a position in front of a window. It’s started, she thought, and her stomach flipped over. This was exciting. It was supposed to be exciting. All the same, she wanted to warn Nancy and Frankie: they’re recording! But she couldn’t think of a way to do it without being obvious, so she settled for nudging Gus and nodding in the camera’s direction.
Annoyingly, Gus patted her hand. “It will be okay, Mom,” he whispered. “That’s why they’re here.”
Nancy was still talking. “More than seventeen years ago now. Hard to believe.”
“I can tell you get along beautifully,” Sabrina said. “That’s just amazing. Most mothers-and daughters-in-law we see working together, it can get a little tense.”
“Oh no,” Nancy said. “We don’t have that problem.” Now Amanda wished she had sat with Nancy, just so she could give her a hug. They didn’t have that problem, as hard as it might be for outsiders to believe. Things between them just worked.
“And your husband and your son—they’re both gone now?”
“For six years,” replied Nancy. “They were killed in the same car accident, on the way to a Chiefs game. Amanda and I—we’ve always been close, and if anything, that brought us closer.”
Amanda, needing to touch some member of her family, leaned on her son gently, and Gus put an arm around her. Okay, she was lucky. Nancy was being great—was great. And Sabrina was nice. This was going to be fine.
Sabrina turned to Amanda and smiled warmly. “But your mother runs Chicken Mimi’s, right?” Somehow, the way she asked it, it didn’t feel like a challenge, more like they were just laying the facts out. Of course people would have to know that.
Amanda took a breath, trying to find a way to explain. “She does,” she said. “And I used to work there, too. And then—I married Frank.”