Charlie
The bread delivery is late.Of all days for it to be late, it’s the day we have one of the largest catering lunch orders we’ve had in months. I stare down the alley, willing the truck to turn off the side street and into the narrow alleyway toward our little sandwich shop.
My parents opened this deli when I was still in diapers. They grew it from a tiny hole in the wall to one of the neighborhood favorites. But that was before all the chains opened up. We still do all right, but if this catering order gets messed up, I’m certain our review stats are going to drop. And a small business like mine can’t afford those reviews to sink.
“They’ll be here, Charlie. Relax.” Joey pats my shoulder. He’s worked here for the last five years since my mom became too ill to work. “They’re only an hour late.”
An hour late. The shop is already open, and the catering order is due in half an hour. If we don’t get this bread, the order will be late.
“Where’s your brother?” Joey wipes his hands on the white apron he has tied around his middle. He slices all the meat for the shop with the fancy meat slicer I bought last year when the old one finally died. My dad never replaced anything in the shop until it gave its last breath. I’ve been slowly replacing things since he passed away eighteen months ago.
“I have no idea where Oliver is,” I answer, trying to keep the annoyance from touching my tone. Oliver’s inattention to this place was easier to shoulder when my father was healthy enough to help run it. I’ve had to hire an extra employee to help cover the shifts he used to at least pretend he was going to cover. Now, sometimes weeks pass before I hear from him.
“I thought he said he would be here today.” Joey rubs the back of his neck and gestures for me to come back inside. “It’s drizzling, come inside, Charlie. They’ll be here.”
I wipe away the minuscule droplets from my forehead and step up into the back room of the deli.
“Oliver stops in when he wants to,” I say. He’s not the most dependable person, my brother. But he is my brother. Sometimes I wish I could forget the long lectures about the importance of family my father gave during our childhood. Oliver seems to have tuned them out just fine. But I can’t. He’s my brother, and my parents wouldn’t want me to turn my back on him.
“I’m going to call the bakery again.” I head to the back office. This situation reiterates the need for our own ovens so we can make our own bread. I almost have enough stashed aside to make the purchase without adding too much debt to the deli, but until then I’m going to have to get that delivery here.
“Charlie, I know. I know, it’s almost there. I swear it.” Kedzie, the girl who runs the Homestyle Bakery seven blocks down answers my call before the first ring can finish.
“Swear it.” Kenzie has never let me down, and I have no reason to believe she will today.
“I swear. Jonny is like a block away.” She sounds as panicked as I feel. Missing a delivery, even to a smaller shop like us, is bad for business. We small businesses need to stick together if we are ever going to have a chance to compete with the big stores.
“Any chance on a discount for this one?” A smile tugs at my lips. Kedzie and I have known each other for years. Both of us are daughters who stepped into the big shoes of our fathers.
“Ten percent,” she offers, which covers the tax and delivery fee.
“I’ll take it and add three dozen pretzel rolls to the next order. I’m going to introduce it and see if it takes.” I twirl the phone cord in my fingers. I haven’t gotten around to changing out the phones in the shop. They’re originals from when Mom and Dad opened this place twenty-three years ago.
“You got it.” Just as she speaks the horn from her cousin’s truck blasts in the alley. The order has arrived, and my ass is saved.
“It’s here. Gotta run!” I hang up and hurry out to the back to help bring in the order.
“Sorry, Charlie.” Jonny jumps down from the truck and runs to the back, throwing open the rolling door.
“Just get it inside. I have to start a big order right away.” I grab a tray of buns and hurry them into the kitchen.
“See. I told you they’d get here in time,” Joey grins as I hurry past him to put the bread away.
“Thanks, Jonny!” I shut the back door and dive into the order. I’ll get the catering order done back here while Joey watches over the staff up front.
“Hey, Charlie!” Oliver pushes through the kitchen door with a wide grin. He hasn’t shaved in days, and from the muss of his hair and dark rings under his eyes, I’d say he hasn’t slept much either.
“Oliver,” Joey greets him as he heads to the front. “See, Charlie, I told you he was coming in today. Good to see you, man.”
I shoot my brother what I hope is a death glare. “We have a big order to get done. Wash your hands and you can help me.” I gesture to the list of sandwiches needing to be made. All the toppings are ready, we just need to get going.
“Sorry, little sister, can’t stay too long.” He pops a sliced bell pepper into his mouth. “I need to talk to you, though.” He glances at the back office.
I sigh. “I can’t, Oliver, this order is already on the verge of being late.” I wave my hands over the table where I should already have a dozen subs wrapped and ready to go.
“It’ll just take a second.” He grabs my arm. “It’s important,” he says through tight teeth.
“Go. I’ll get these started.” Joey waves both hands at me. “It’s dead up there, they’ll be okay for a bit.”