“I do, yes,” she said with a smile. “We were about to head back to my store to check in before bringing Callie here home. We can walk you back to the diner if you’d like.”
“I don’t mind carrying the little guy, but I could get the bags if you’d rather carry him,” Austin said.
“No, no, I trust you,” I said. “I could do with giving my back a break for a minute anyway, thank you.”
“No problem,” Austin said.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Have you guys eaten breakfast yet?”
“Not yet,” Beth said. “I was kind of hoping to wait until you opened up and grab breakfast there.”
“You wanted to wait another hour to eat?” Austin said. “Shoot, I thought we’d just head home.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “As a thank-you for helping me out, breakfast is on me. As long as you don’t mind it being something off-menu.”
“That sounds fun,” Austin said.
“Sure,” Beth agreed. “As long as it’s not putting you out at all.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” I said as we crossed over to the block where the diner was. “I need to practice the dish before I put it on the menu anyway. Either of you vegetarian?”
“Sometimes,” Beth said. “But I have weaknesses.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” I said, grinning.
By the time we got to the diner, both kids were completely out. I dropped my bags on the counter and took Cooper from Austin. The office had a futon, an insistence of mine, and this was the reason why. I unfolded it to make a bed and laid Cooper down on it. Then I covered him up with blankets, and he made a cooing sound as he fell more deeply into sleep.
“There you go, buddy. Get some rest,” I said and kissed his head.
When I made it back into the kitchen, Beth and Austin were sitting in a booth by the window, and their little girl was passed out on one side with Beth, her head in her lap.
“She can go lie down on the futon if you’d like,” I said.
Austin laughed. “As soon as she smells food, she’s going to be up.”
“Then I have work to do,” I said, grabbing an apron and tying it around me. I flipped the range on and checked the clock.
It was only seven. Still an hour before the diner opened properly at eight, and a half hour before Harriet and Fiona showed up.
I pulled out the cast-iron skillet and stuck it in the stove. Cranking the heat up, I closed the lid and looked for the eggs I had just bought. I made a quick batter using some frozen corn I had in the freezer, and when the skillet was hot, I melted butter in it and tossed the batter in. Once the cornbread was baking, it turned my attention to the range.
My ability to mise en place was pretty legendary among my friends. And I had the ingredients I wanted ready to cook. Tossing them in as needed, I looked up to see that their little one was sound asleep in the booth, but both of them had come up to the bar. They were looking in at the range and seemed fascinated by what I was cooking.
“I want to ask what it is, but I also want to be surprised,” Beth said.
“It’s my favorite breakfast when I want something filling and fast.”
“How long have you been cooking?” Austin asked. “I dabble in the kitchen occasionally up at the station. But I’m a novice compared to some of the other guys.”
“Isn’t that a requirement, though? For firemen to be able to cook various stuff?” I asked.
“Sort of,” he said. “Sometimes there’s just a couple of guys pulling the weight for everyone.”
“Ahh, that makes sense,” I said. “I cooked for FDNY a couple of times. But they have professional chefs turned firefighters there, so it’s a little unfair.”
Austin laughed. “Yeah, none of our guys have been chefs before,” he said. “Though they can make mean buffalo chicken.”
“Always appreciated buffalo chicken,” I said. “I’ve been cooking as far back as I can remember. My grandpa used to own a diner in New York, but by the time I was born, he was retired. They say I take after him a lot.”
“Is that why you moved here? Because of the diner?” Beth asked.
“In a way, yes,” I said. I didn’t know how much of my personal history I wished to get into with people who were essentially strangers. But at