The Vegan and the Wolf - Julie Steimle (amazing books to read TXT) 📗

either. Not after what I put him through.”

“We all make mistakes,” he said. “He’s just glad he found you.”

She went silent for a while.

Audry had to pick up and deliver another order. Then she had to clear off a table, refill some drinks, and then take two more orders before their order came up. Missy brought the sandwiches out, winking at Audry who was busy with an incredibly indecisive customer who could not decide between a grilled avocado sandwich with sprouts or a panini with cheese, pesto, and spinach. Audry eventually went back to give the couple refills.

“Is everything all right with your order?” Audry asked, repressing her curiosity.

“Yes, thank you,” the woman said.

Audry was about to leave when an elderly couple approached the table. The elderly woman and man both gasped as their eyes set on the person who had to be Rick’s mother. From the older couple’s clothing to their posture, Audry could feel they were almost clones of her Bruchenhaus relatives. The older man was in a fine suit and the woman wore Dior along with a fur lined wrap. The fur looked real. They also had the same pompous gaze in their aged eyes as her relatives as they surveyed the scene. Everything about them showed they had no regard for any life other than their own or those closely connected to them. The elderly woman said, “Emmaline, can we retire to a more suitable venue?”

“Here is just fine, Mother,” Rick’s mother said, her voice tense. She remained in her seat.

Audry took a step back, but waited in case she had to take an order.

“It is completely exposed,” said the elderly woman (whom Audry assumed was Mrs. Richardson, the mother of Emmaline D. Richardson who had married Mr. Howard Richard Deacon II, and grandmother to Rick). She looked about as if being on the curbside near Central Park was akin to standing on the street like a hooker.

“I think it is charming,” Rick’s mother replied. “And the food is good. But I won’t make you take an order if you do not wish it.”

Mrs. Richardson shot Audry a sharp look of disdain then glanced to her husband who also seemed uncomfortable with sitting at a roadside café. But he reacted with less vocal protests. In fact, he merely gazed at his daughter and said, “You are not even going to give your parents a hug?”

Rick’s mother shook her head. “No. The last time I saw you, you had me locked up. You wouldn’t even listen to me.”

Rolling her watery eyes, her gaze settling on Audry with irritation, Mrs. Richardson hissed back as if to make it so Audry could not overhear, “You were saying crazy things.”

“I needed your support back then,” Rick’s mother replied stiffly. The man with her, her husband, put his arm around her shoulders.

“And who is this man?” Mr. Richardson (whose whitening hair had reddish tinges to similar to Rick’s and his daughter’s) asked, gesturing to the man.

Lifting he chin, Rick’s mother rose to her feet. “This is my husband, Louis Dell.”

Both wealthy senior citizens drew in astonished breaths. They stared at Mr. Dell as if he had jumped out at them, shouting ‘surprise!’

“When did this happen?” Mr. Richardson exclaimed.

But Mrs. Richardson turned on Audry, “Excuse me, but you can leave. This is a private conversation, and we won’t be ordering.”

Flustering, Audry lifted her hands and backed away, blushing. “Sorry. I didn’t meant to intrude.”

“Uh, wait!” Rick’s mother, Mrs. Dell, lifted up a hand to stop her. “Can we order food to go? My son will be back shortly, and I don’t know if he will be picking up food in the park or not.”

“Howie is here?” Mr. Richardson asked, his eyebrows lifting.

Nodding, Mrs. Dell said, “Of course. He is, uh, babysitting… his younger brother and sister.”

“You have other children?” Mrs. Richardson looked to Mr. Dell as if he were the last person her daughter ought to be having children with.

Nodding, Mrs. Dell replied, “Yes. I have a boy and a girl. And I love them very much.”

“But what about…” They looked to Mr. Dell as if he ought not to exist. “…Howard. We thought—”

“We divorced,” Mrs. Dell said briskly. “Didn’t you understand that was final?”

The Richardsons looked astonished and utterly dismayed at such news

“We had always hoped you would get back together,” Mr. Richardson said. Then he turned to Mr. Dell. “No offense to you.” Looking to his daughter again, he explained, “We had just thought you were so in love.”

Mrs. Dell shook her head, pulling back from them. “You don’t understand. And you have never believed me. But I can never go back to Howard Deacon. And just so you know, he has agreed to stay away from me.”

The Richardsons moaned together with disappointment.

Mrs. Dell then urged them to pull up a seat at the table while she sat down again. “I wanted to talk with you before exposing my children to you—”

“Exposing?” Her mother bristled. 

Her father stiffened.

But Mrs. Dell nodded as her husband sort of sat back and kept out of the conversation. He knew they did not care for him anyway. It was obvious on his face, and theirs. Audry remained at the side, waiting for the food order.

That is until somebody flagged her down.

Audry lifted a finger for Mrs. Dell and said, “I’ll be back for your order.”

Mrs. Dell nodded with a smile.

As Audry went to serve the other customer, a thousand questions flooded her mind. What had their daughter told that old couple back at the time of the divorce? What had happened so that she never wanted to be with Mr. Deacon II again? And how quickly had she remarried?

Audry did the math in her head. The little boy who was the eldest, looked about eight years old at the most. Rick was probably twenty-one, maybe twenty-two years old. That meant his mother probably got married right away. It was most likely she had changed her name and everything.

It was sad. Audry mostly felt pity for Rick, who (despite being a ginny-gog) had a tough break when it came to family. She had heard his father was a dignified, yet enigmatic man. His mother had a nervous breakdown and had rejected him—at least for a time. And the one set of grandparents who were alive (the other having been murdered, each on separate occasions) were pompous, judgmental fat cats—the type of people Audry despised. The only thing that would complete the nastiness of such a family would be a sex scandal involving his father. Maybe Rick had other brothers and sisters that Audry was not aware of and that was why the parents divorced. Or maybe his father was gay and one of his lovers had come to their mansion and outed him while Mr. Deacon was out on business. All of that was likely.

When she returned to the table, Audry stepped into the middle of an argument over whether ‘Emmaline’ would return to New York or ‘Emily’ would stay wherever it was she currently living.

“…believed that they were witches! You were saying crazy things!” Mrs. Richardson hissed, peeking around as if everyone and their dog were spying on them. She shot Audry a particularly sharp look as she continued, “We had to do what was best for you.”

“It was not best for me,” Mrs. Dell retorted, her face fully red. “And neither is coming back to New York. I like where I am living. I am happy there.”

“You couldn’t possibly be,” Mrs. Richardson bickered, utterly not hearing her.

The men did not really look at each other. Their eyes were on their wives and on their opposition. In the case of Mr. Richardson, he looked distressed that his daughter was not budging an inch on her position. Mr. Dell looked prepared to take his wife out of there if he had to.

“It shows how little you know,” Mrs. Dell said. Then she looked to Audry. “Ah. I have one question before I take an order. I detected a honey taste to the chicken. Do you use honey on everything for sweetener in this café? My son is allergic.”

“Both boys?” Audry asked, it slipping out.

Chuckling, Mrs. Dell shook her head. “No. Just one of them. Also, I need to know what dishes are free of garlic, and if you use silver in any of the preparation.”

Audry stared, realizing all his allergies had just been confirmed. But she said, “Uh, we use honey on the chicken and the ham. We add no sweeteners to the smoothies. They are naturally sweet from the fruit. As for garlic free…” She thought about it for a while. Audry had never had such a request before. “I think I will have to return to the kitchen and ask about that last one.”

Mrs. Dell nodded. “Please do. If you have chicken without honey, I’d appreciate it. He loves chicken.”

Nodding, Audry turned to go back inside. Of course he loved chicken. He could ‘never be a vegan.’

Inside the kitchen, Audry asked about the garlic. Most of the vegan salads had garlic in them. And all the pesto as well. That eliminated most items on the menu. But she checked them off until she was left with a roast beef sandwich and a French onion soup. As for silver utensils, those in the kitchen laughed. “What do they think this place is? The Hilton?”

Audry returned and reported to those at the table.

“I see.” Mrs. Dell looked disappointed. “It is always so difficult eating out with him…” She then looked to her parents. “Mother, would you like to order something? Dad?”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Richardson peered at the menus Audry had brought. Their faces wrinkled into sneers. Apparently the menu items were below them.

“I’d like to recommend our vegan menu,” Audry suggested, pointing to her favorite items. “The Avocado and Roasted Tomato Panini is excellent. I also recommend the Moroccan Veggie Delight. And—”

“No, thank you,” Mrs. Richardson sharply handed back the menu.

But Mr. Richardson said, “I’ll have the roast beef sandwich with the dipping sauce.”

Audry sketched it down with a dismayed sigh.

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Richardson stared sharply at Audry. “Did you just sass him?”

Blinking at her, Audry was confused. “No. I…”

“You sassed him. You huffed after he placed his order,” Mrs. Richardson snapped.

“Mother, it was just a sigh,” Mrs. Dell said, reaching a hand out to her to calm her down. “I’m sure she is just tired.”

“She was sassing,” Mrs. Richardson bit back. Her eyes were savage in her superiority.

Audry turned to go.

“Don’t you leave! I am talking to you.” Mrs. Richardson really was like Audry’s extended relatives. No sympathy. Pomposity. And a feeling of elitism oozed out of her.

Audry turned back around, wanly gazing at her.

“And wipe that smirk off your face,” Mrs. Richardson bit out.

“Mother! She is not smirking.”

“I say she is smirking,” Mrs. Richardson snapped. Her eyes raked over Audry like she would claw her to death. “You. Your job is to simply do as you’re told. No sass.”

Audry waited, not responding.

“Well, speak up,” the woman snapped. “Apologize to my husband.”

Gazing wanly at Mr. Richardson, who waited expectantly for the apology, she felt her patience snap. And she said, “I am so sorry…”

Mrs. Richardson gazed proudly, chin high.

“…that you do not value the life of other living things and see fit to eat poor defenseless animals and wear their skins when products such as cotton and flax are readily available. And I pity your relatives.” Audry turned and started to walk away.

That woman’s jaw dropped. She emitted a loud shocked gasp. But Mr. Dell snorted and had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

“How dare you!” Mr. Richardson exclaimed.

“Go ahead and talk to my manager,” Audry said with a cold hard stare, “If you wish. He supports my vegan views, and he is not a fan of killing animals for fur.”

It was a half-lie. He didn’t really care either way about her vegan views. She was good at selling food, which was all he cared about. But he did not like any