Clarissa laughed in disbelief.
“Over one bad call?”
“No.”
Dana’s voice was firm.
“Over everything that happened after the call.”
Clarissa looked around.
“I was trying to keep this place running.”
Bernice answered:
“The bad call was the water.”
Clarissa looked at her.
“Blaming me after it was a choice.”
Clarissa’s expression flickered.
Bernice continued.
“You watched me stand here ashamed while every child in this room thought I had forgotten how to do my job.”
Clarissa said, “I never told you to apologize to anyone.”
Otis let out a stunned breath.
“No.”
He stepped forward.
“You just knew the truth and let her carry the shame anyway.”
Dana held out her hand.
“Clarissa.”
Clarissa looked at it.
“Your badge.”
“You’re taking my badge over soup?”
Dana shook her head.
“Over dishonesty.”
Clarissa did not move.
Dana waited.
Finally, Clarissa unclipped the supervisor badge from her collar.
She placed it into Dana’s palm.
“We’ll decide what happens after lunch.”
Clarissa’s face hardened.
She looked toward Bernice.
For a moment, Bernice expected another attack.
Instead Clarissa whispered:
“I was under pressure.”
Bernice nodded.
“I believe you.”
Clarissa looked surprised.
“Pressure explains the water.”
Bernice touched the front of her apron.
“It doesn’t explain why you put my name on it.”
Clarissa lowered her eyes.
Dana pointed toward the office.
“Go.”
Clarissa walked away.
Nobody applauded.
Bernice was grateful.
She did not want applause.
She wanted lunch served.
She looked around.
More than two hundred students remained in the cafeteria or waiting outside.
The clock on the wall read 11:46.
Bernice wiped both hands against her apron.
Then turned toward Otis.
“How many sandwiches?”
“Maybe ninety.”
“Mara?”
“Another twenty-five if we use the turkey from tomorrow.”
Bernice nodded.
“Don’t.”
Mara frowned.
“We’ll need it.”
“We need tomorrow too.”
She looked toward the soup.
“How much base stock is left?”
Otis checked the cooler.
“One container.”
“Beans?”
“Enough.”
“Tomatoes?”
“Yes.”
Bernice calculated silently.
Clarissa had diluted the original pot beyond repair for normal serving.
But the kitchen still had ingredients.
Not enough for another full batch.
Enough for a smaller supplemental one.
Bernice pointed.
“Otis, start the stock.”
He moved immediately.
“Mara, pull beans and tomato base.”
Mara nodded.
“Elise, sandwiches first for grades one through three. Offer fruit and vegetables while they wait.”
Dana looked at Bernice.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Bernice tied the apron more tightly.
“Yes, I do.”
“You were just publicly humiliated.”
“And those children are still hungry.”
She looked toward the line.
“That’s the work I came here to do.”
For the next forty minutes, the kitchen stopped being a courtroom and became a kitchen again.
Bernice moved quickly.
No wasted motion.
Stock into the kettle.
Tomatoes.