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CHAPTER 8

Swan Comes To Work

      WHEN LUCY reentered the bar from the kitchen, Bobby had vanished, and Swan was coming in with Tagg right behind her.

      "Well you did come," Lucy said. She'd been half-expecting Swan to send word that she'd changed her mind.

      Swan smiled. "Oh yes, I said I would. Hope I'm not late."

      "Oh no, you're fine — we never said what time."

      "Tagg was kind enough to come get me at Mama's, so we had supper before we came on. But after this I'll be in my own car, so tell me when you want me."

      Somewhat absently, Lucy told her the hours they were open for business, adding, "Except we have to be here earlier, you know, to set things up. And there's an hour or so of clean-up after we close." But her eyes were on Tagg, who had strolled to the end of the bar to talk to Ricky and Clive.

      'He brought her?' Lucy thought. 'Had supper with her? He must've gone right to her as soon as he dropped me off. Right to Swan.'

      "I'll be here whatever times you need me," Swan said. "Show me what to do, and I promise I'll learn quick — should I start now? Do I need an apron?"

      "Sure, we'll start right away." In the kitchen, Lucy got her an apron and showed her the bowls they used for salsa and for chips and where the salads were kept in the cooler. Swan and Gene hit it off fine. They already knew each other from high school.

      Back in the bar, Lucy explained how they recorded the orders, where they stored the used tickets, and where the money was kept. "Write down enough so you can remember who gets what, and how much things cost," Lucy said. "And you can go ahead and take their money, if you want to. I wasn't letting Elena do that, but you're like one of the family, Swan. Do you know how to process credit cards?"

      "Sure. I learned it the year I worked for Ricky's Dad at the drugstore. Do you have one of those little machines you run the card through?"

      Lucy nodded. "If you get cash tips, just put that part in your pocket and the rest in the cashbox. If it's on a credit card — well, when Melida was here, I figured her credit card tips once a week."

      "Whatever you usually do is fine," An older couple had just come in, and Swan nodded toward them. "Could I take those people to a table, do you think? And maybe take their orders? I think I can do that now."

      "Sure. And if you forget something, come and ask me." Swan really did learn fast, Lucy thought.

      She opened a bottle of soda for Joseph Pump, who owned Pump's Laundra-Man on Main street, and the Dairy-Kreem next door to it. The old man nodded and laid his money on the bar without a word.

      Mr. Pump came in for dinner twice a week, and very occasionally on Saturday evenings. He always sat by himself, his mouth turned down, his heavy jaws drooping, his big round head hanging forward, and his little pale eyes fixed on his glass. Yet Lucy felt a partiality for him, and whenever he came in, she hurried to wait on him. Years ago, when Mama died, Joseph Pump had written her and Bobby a letter, saying he was sorry for their loss, that he was sad that Mama was gone, and that he would always keep the memory of what a pretty, sweet woman she'd been. Lucy never forgot that. And for the kindness of that one letter, she forgave him all his dour silence and glum looks. "If you need anything more, Mr. Pump," she said, "You let me know. I'm always happy to help you."

      A few minutes later, she took a tray of dirty dishes back to the kitchen, and there was Bobby, coming in the back door. "Where were you?"

      "At home."

      She said nothing, but her look was full of questions.

      "Normalade's not speaking to me," he shrugged. "But I thought about what you'd said, so I thought I'd have a word with Uncle Bob."

      "And?"

      "I think he's okay, Luce. He's always been a wild man, you know. Maybe that was how come he kept up with the TV show all those years. Never at a loss."

      "Bobby, that's good of you," Lucy said. "I feel better that you talked to him, and that you're thinking about it. I'm grateful."

      With a nod, he pushed through the swinging door to the bar. On the other side, however, he stopped so abruptly that Lucy, right behind him, nearly ran into him.

      "What — ?" He was staring at Swan, who was smoothly drawing a pitcher of beer from the tap, putting it on a tray to take to her customers. "What do you think you're doing?"

      Why was he so surprised? Then Lucy realized that he had stormed out before she and Uncle Bob had talked to Swan about her coming to work here. Bobby hadn't known about it.

      Swan's eyes flickered a little. "I'm helping Lucy. She said this morning that she was short-handed, and your uncle told me I could come and help out until you found someone. I hope that's okay with you."

      "I don't know if it is."

      Swan looked up at him for a minute, then she wiped her hands on her apron, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. "Bobby, you and I have had our differences this last year, but we've been friends all our lives, and it's not right to hold a grudge. Lucy's my friend too, and she needs help. So why not let me help her out. Won't you?"

      For a moment, Lucy, even though she knew him so well, couldn't read his expression at all. Then he said, "Uncle Bob hired you?"

      "I guess you could say that. He told me he'd be proud to have me here."

      "Who else knows about this?"

      "Mama. Lucy. Tagg — I think Bertie was there when we talked about it."

      "How about Normalade?"

      "I don't know. Probably."

      "And they all thought this was okay?"

      She sighed. "How do I know what people think, Bobby; I don't read minds. But all I plan is be your hired lady for a few days. What's the big deal?"

      "So you don't . . ." Then he stopped. "All right. I guess Uncle Bob can hire anybody he wants to. It's a free country."

      "All right then." She picked up the full glasses. "Let me by, please. I have customers to wait on."

      Bobby stepped aside and Swan eased by him and went out into the room. Lucy went down the bar, collecting a new set of empties. When she got to Tagg, he held on to his glass, so she had to stop.

      "What do you think about this," he asked in a low voice.

      "Me? What should I? Nothing."

      "You really don't see anything happening here?"

      She stared at him, genuinely puzzled. "What are you driving at, Tagg? You mean because Bobby and Swan went together after high school? But they broke up over a year ago, and since then, Bobby's married Normalade. I know Swan was mad for a while, but she's been in Albuquerque long enough to cool off. And now they have the baby, she wants to make up and be friends again. What's wrong with that?"

      "Lucy darling, I love you — "

      "Don't be like that."

      ". . . But in some ways, you're very dense." He let go the glass.

      "Then explain to me what I'm missing," she said irritably, "What is this big thing I'm too stupid to understand?"

      He sighed and got up. "Maybe nothing, little dear, maybe nothing at all."

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