“Bono, if you don’t stop with that shit aboutbottles of beer,I’m going to block you out and not allow you back in. You comprende?” I am on my last nerve with this asshole. He’s been singing this damn song since I opened my eyes.
*Okay, Cilla. I’ll stop, but I need you to tell my brothers anything I find out*
“Bono, I’m doing that anyway, so give me a break will you. I’m tired. I’m working early shifts and blocking you all out mentally is having a detrimental effect on my energy.”
*I’m going to see what that ZeBach is up to, but I’ll be back later*
I’m thinking, of course you will, as he disappears from my mind. Looking at the time, I need to make a dash for it, or I’m going to be late for work. I don’t want Shelby thinking I’m not up to the job by not being reliable.
Three hours later and the rush for breakfast service is over. Shelby hands me a glass of iced mint tea, which she makes for herself more than for a customer. “Thanks, Shelby,” I quickly take a sip and sigh after the stream of cool liquid lines my throat.
“Tracy is making a lamb dish. Some Mexican thing. I’m not sure the customers will go for it, but she can try it as it isn’t a substantial amount of meat she’s using.” Shelby leans back in her seat, and I can see she’s tired.
“What is it she’s making?” I ask because I know nothing about Mexican food.
Grinning, Shelby replies with such a look of amusement that I’m sure I’m going to be no more clued in on what it is than I am now. “It is lamb barbacoa. Tracy said she’ll serve it as warm tacos or with a flatbread.”
Now, I am still the same clueless idiot as I was before she told me. Taking out her phone, Shelby typed for a moment before handing it to me. It was a picture of the dish. Now, it looks good and I reckon I’m going to ask Tracy to let me have one. Oh! I wonder if she can leave the jalapeños off mine? “Do you think Tracy will keep one for me to try, without the jalapenos?” I asked Shelby, but before she could reply a plate was placed in front of us on the table.
Tracy grins. “Here you go. Pick off the jalapeños, Cilla.”
I do just that and take a bite and wow, this is good. I chew slowly, savoring every bite. My eyes are closed, and I swallow slowly before looking at Tracy. “That is good. Oh, yeah, that is good. I love it, and I can imagine they are going to be popular.”
Tracy hands me a small serving of sour cream, and I spoon some on top of the lamb. Taking another bite, I cannot hold back the hum of pleasure from the taste.
Giggles have me opening my eyes slowly, right before scowling at Shelby and Tracy. “Oh, you like it, Cilla.” Shelby laughs again.
I cross my eyes at her right before taking another bite. “Can you write me the recipe so I can make some of this, Tracy?”
Tracy takes a card out of her pocket and hands it to me. “I knew you and Shelby would want to make these, so I wrote the recipe and kept it simple. The ingredients will make ten servings. You can make less. It really is up to you. Make it in the slow cooker and it’ll be great when you get home from work.”
“Did you make it in the slow cooker?” Shelby asks.
Tracy grins. “I didn’t. I used the stove. But you can use the slow cooker, just remember will need five or six hours. You can make it ahead of time if you cover and keep it in the fridge. Oh, and you can freeze it. But freeze the meat and the liquid separately.”
Taking the card, I stick it down my t-shirt and tuck it into my bra. No way am I losing that out of my pants pocket. “Thank you, Tracy. I will make this and hope it turns out as well as yours has, but this will sell, Shelby, I’m sure.”
Shelby nods as she finishes her taco and looks at Tracy. “Give it a go, Tracy. Make sure you price it up accordingly and make it a Wednesday special or something like that.”
“Okay, I will do. I’ll put these on sale for the lunch crowd. I made thirty of them because I can imagine they will sell in twos, rather than as a single taco. Especially the men, they’ll not just want one.” Tracy walks back to the kitchen still mumbling to herself, and I quickly finish my taco and get back to work.
Now, I’m sure you guessed that the tacos sold like hotcakes and were gone within twenty minutes of being introduced to the lunchtime crowd. An enormous success, and it was easy to see Tracy was excited at the reception they had.
Finishing my shift, I quickly change into my day clothes of jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and pumps. I put my work clothes into a bag and head out. I want to get the laundry done when I get home, but I have to stop at the grocery store on the way. I need to get the ingredients for this lamb whatever it was called.
Once I’ve gotten everything from the grocery store, I hurry to the small butcher on the corner of the street. It’s a nice shop and I like to support them by purchasing there instead of at the supermarket.
I’m excited when I get the lamb, after I have shown the butcher what I want the lamb for, I make my way back to the truck where I’m going to quickly make my way home.
Passing a man on the sidewalk who bumps into me hard enough that I stumble and drop my bag I hear Bono scream in my mind that he is the bomber. I take my phone out and take photographs of the asshole as he’s walking away, but I’m thankful he turns my way to check if the road is clear to cross and I get a clean photograph of his face.
“Gotcha!” I think as I grab my bag and rush to my truck. I head home and quickly place my groceries in the fridge. I throw everything in the washing machine and set it going before picking up my keys once more and heading to the truck.
*Are you going to tell them? Cilla, are you?*
“Bono, shut up. I’m going to the clubhouse now, so be quiet while I drive.”
At the gate of the clubhouse, a young man asks what I want, and I keep my voice as calm as possible when I respond, “I’m here with a message for Tracker or Finger. Whoever is available, but it is important.”