wish you were eyre by heather vogel frederick

Usually this time of year we get New England’s famous January thaw, but the month’s almost over and so far there’s been no sign of it. My gaze drifts over to the window, and I note gloomily that it’s started to snow again. Her father’s been unemployed for a while, and working here has been a way to help her family out. She’s being a really good sport about it, though. Becca looks kind of like a French maid in a bad sitcom. Gigi had me design them, but I hadn’t imagined someone my age actually wearing one. Like my grandmother, Becca is wearing the Pies & Prejudice uniform: black dress, frilly white apron, frilly white cap. She trots off to a neighboring table to take another order, her apron strings fluttering behind her.

You want a little cinnamon sprinkled on that? Becca’s all business as she writes my order down. I guess it depends if you give me extra whipped cream on my hot chocolate. She started out working on Thursday evenings at Gigi’s new cooking classes, and today is her first shift waiting tables.Ī big tip? I pretend to think it over. Becca’s been her assistant since the beginning of January. Things got so busy that Gigi decided to hire some extra help. This is Becca’s first day as a full-fledged waitress at Pies & Prejudice, the wildly successful tea shop my grandmother opened here in Concord last year. Hey, she replies, who’s the one with the job, huh? Who’s the one earning money right this instant? Speaking of which, you are planning to leave me a big tip, aren’t you?

I look up to see Becca Chadwick tapping her pen against the notepad she’s holding. Since when had my grandmother started serving french fries at the tea shop? if she were a nice, pretty child, one might compassionate her forlornness but one really cannot care for such a little toad as that.

The eagerness of a listener quickens the tongue of a narrator.

Wish you were eyre by heather vogel frederick