"It's going to be okay," Brice said.
"Maybe." Wilma wiped her eyes with her apron. "You get back to work."
"I'm too hungry," Brice said. He lied he wanted to know what fox she was talking about.
"Well I'll heat you up the spaghetti and make you a salad."
The lunch staff was fast at prepping the kitchen, lining the serving area with steel to hold in the heat until the hot food was ready to serve. Wilma led him to a room in the back near the delivery door. She disappeared and he closed the door to warm the room. he sat down on a stool that was parked under a podium where receipts of goods were stacked and pictures of her daughter as child tape to it.
The office had overcoats and hats hanging on the wall behind him. A dry erase board with black utility tape forming boxes with schedule times for the employees' name written across the top of the boxes. No employee was full-time.
"It'll be few minutes before they put it together," Wilma said, standing in the entrance to her office.
Brice stood up and flipped through the receipts. "What did you mean you let the fox in the hen house?"
Wilma plopped on the stool and twisted her apron in her arms.
"Unload your worries to me," Brice said replacing the receipts. "I won't gossip about them."
"I already living in enough shame with Ayesha's pregnancy and now Jason skimming money off the students."
"Now days all mothers don't carry the shame," Brice said. Wilma choke up. He rubbed her back.
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