Hand me a slice

I know it might seem like Slice of Life was handed to me, and I guess in a way it was, but that didn’t mean that Sunny and I didn’t bust our asses working for it. I didn’t even get a chance to grieve before I was thrust into the mess that Slice had become.

My Uncle had employed a small staff that tended to rotate about every four years. High school kids would come in as freshman and start out as dough tossers or bus boys and move up the ranks to delivery drivers. It was sort of an unspoken agreement that when you graduated, you moved on, and left your space for a freshman to take over and start the process all over again. So, when things got bad with my Uncle, there was no one really to take over the reins and try to get everything under control. I don’t want to imply that the kids didn’t care about the shop – the pizza place was a huge presence in our little town. My Uncle sponsored high school teams, helped with fundraisers, and it was also the local hang out spot. Parents didn’t mind their kids coming to hang out there because they knew my Uncle would keep an eye on things, and the kids respected him too much to bring trouble into his shop. It’s just, as kids, they didn’t know anything was going on – and if they did, there wasn’t much they could do about it.

The only two adults that my Uncle employed were M&M – an old married couple named Mona and Maurice. They had been around as long as I could remember, my Uncle joked that they came with the building when he bought it. They lived in the cutest little house around the corner from the shop. Maurice was officially the head chef, but unofficially, he was also the handy-man. If Maurice couldn’t fix it, you knew it was time to scrap it and replace it. Mona did a little bit of everything. Cooking, answering phones, back office stuff, and mothering the crap out of everyone that walked in the door (but she was the kind of mother you always wished you had). She once even filled in for a delivery driver when the driver had to have an emergency appendectomy. My Uncle probably could have done without Mona and Maurice, but I knew they reminded him of his parents, who had died, and he liked having them around. Everyone liked having them around.

Everyone except Richie.

I didn’t know it when I met him, but Richie was the trouble with the shop. I can’t for sure say that everything was his fault, but I have a very strong hunch that he started it, or at the very least contributed to it. I didn’t meet Richie until after my Uncle had died, and while I was surprised my Uncle had hired on another adult, I did think Richie seemed like a nice guy. The story goes that Richie offered to paint a mural on the side of my Uncle’s building, and then managed to get hired on after and even moved in to the spare room at the back of the shop. At first it seemed like a legit story, and he seemed to be really helpful, but then things just got…. Weird. When I first took over the shop, Richie seemed really helpful. He stepped up and filled in, even without us asking him too, and I was grateful. However, slowly, he started getting more and more possessive of the shop, and was dropping hints that he wanted Steph and I to let him manage it while we went back to school. I was not comfortable doing this, and neither was Stephanie. Richie was becoming more and more aggravated because of our hesitation. There was also an issue with the books. I don’t know if it’s because my Uncle was drinking more and just keeping shoddy records, but the numbers just weren’t adding up. It appeared as though someone had been stealing money from the business. I couldn’t say for sure that that’s what was going on, and I also couldn’t say for sure that my Uncle wasn’t in on it, but I do believe at the very least, Rich was too – because it started happening shortly after he showed up. One morning I came in to find that Mona and Maurice weren’t there, which was highly unusual. It never seemed to matter how early I came in, Mona was always there, wiping down tables and Maurice was in the back cooking breakfast and yelling at me that coffee was on. I was worried at first that something had happened, after all Mona and Maurice both were older and while they seemed in good health, you just never really knew. Still, I knew that if anything really bad had happened, someone would have gotten word to me, so I left my coat on and decided to swing by their house just to check.

When Mona let me in, I could tell she had been crying, and it broke my heart.

“Mona what’s wrong? Did something happen to Maurice?” I asked, placing an arm on her shoulder. She shrugged it off – which was when I really felt my heart crack. Mona was a very touchy feely person and I don’t think she ever rejected physical contact from anyone.

“Richie came over last night and gave us your message. I know you’re upset about your poor Uncle, but he was like a son to us and you a granddaughter. I know we’re old, and I know in this day people don’t want old people hanging around, but you could have told us in person Melanie, you or Stephanie.”

“Mona, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t tell Richie to tell you anything. What did he say?” I was truly bewildered. Richie had cornered me the night before to talk about some “changes” he had in mind – wanted to run them by me, but I had told him it would have to wait to be discussed later, and we had never gotten around to talking.

She studied my face for a moment, to see if I was telling the truth, and then nodded slowly.

“I didn’t think you could do something like this. I see now. Come in, eat some breakfast, and I will explain.”

Mona fixed breakfast, but I never got around to eating it, because as Mona told the story I lost my appetite. Apparently Richie came to their house after closing last night and told Mona and Maurice that he and I had talked and decided that we wanted to take the pizza shop in a different (younger) direction. He said they were no longer needed, and not to bother coming to the shop the next day. Mona had told him she wanted to discuss this with me, and he was insistent that she leave me alone – that I didn’t come because I didn’t want to be the one to hurt them, but that my decision was final and to leave me alone while I dealt with the mess the shop was in. I was angry when I left. Not only because Richie could lie like that, dismissing two people who I loved and who had worked very hard for my family, but also because had I for some reason not caught it… He could have opened us up to a lawsuit. You cannot fire someone because of their age, which is essentially what he did – or at least what he told them. I had sensed some tension between the M’s and Richie, and I suspected they knew what was really going on behind the scences, so he wanted them gone.

When I got back to the shop from Mona’s house (after telling them to take the day off while I dealt with Richie, but to please come back the next day,) Richie was there. And I could tell by the look on his face that he knew exactly where I had been and exactly just how angry I was.

“Lanie, I can explain, I tried to talk to you but…”

That’s when I exploded. I started by telling him that only my friends called me Lanie, and he and I were certainly not friends (which was a little juvenile, but I was 19, so what did you expect?) I then went on to let him know that I wasn’t sure what his game was, but that Stephanie and I were in charge of the shop, and that we would not be giving him any sort of control, and if he didn’t like it he could leave. That’s when another side of Richie came out – a meaner, colder side that he hadn’t shown me before. He told me that he and my Uncle were lovers, and he entered into a verbal contract with my Uncle stating if anything should happen, he wanted Richie to have the shop. I didn’t buy it, and neither did Stephanie when she arrived at the shop and heard the story. It’s not even buying that my Uncle was gay – for all I knew he was, but my Uncle would not have handed over his shop like that, not to someone who he hadn’t even mentioned to Stephanie or I. Richie tried to call us homophobs and told us he was taking us to a lawyer. I figured we didn’t need to worry about losing the shop, we had my Uncle’s will while all Richie had was a conversation that supposedly happened, but I was worried about all the money and time spent fighting him on this – and I wasn’t sure if the shop would make it through all that. So, I brought up the books, the missing funds, and questioning him on where the money went. He tried to play stupid, but I could tell my questioning was putting him on edge and making him agitated. So I started bluffing. I told him I had evidence that he had been taking money. I also bluffed and told him that his stealing had put my Uncle under so much stress and strain that it drove him to drink and commit suicide, so if he was found guilty of stealing the money, we could also go after him for wrongful death. (I have no idea if this was even possible, but I’m a pretty good bluffer – my Mom always told me I should become a lawyer.) After this, Richie didn’t say a word, but the next morning we woke up and his things were gone, and we haven’t seen or heard from him since. When a friend asked me if I thought Richie had killed my Uncle and made it look like a suicide, I immediately said no. I know how it could sound like that, but I think Richie was just a con man who happened into a situation and tried to take advantage of it.

So yes, in a way, we were handed Slice. But it was like being handed a lump of coal and told with enough effort it could be a diamond.

Sunny and I got a crash course in running your own business. And it’s pretty simple, actually. You think owning a business means being your own boss and doing whatever you want? Ha. It means you eat, breathe, and sleep that business. It means doing whatever needs done whenever it needs to be done. I once put in a sixteen hour day and went home and slept for an hour before I got a phone call saying a pipe had burst and I had to head back in to mop up water and deal with insurance claims (and we still opened that morning.) I got jealous of my friends cramming for finals because I knew while it sucked in the moment, their lack of sleep and stress was only temporary, while mine saw no end in sight. My business was like I imagine a colicky baby to be. It cried for attention all the time, and nothing I gave it every seemed to satisfy it. But, it was my baby, and I would and did give up my life for it willingly.