Two hours later, I was sitting on a stool pulled up to one of the kitchen worktables at Dad’s restaurant. I had been to the doctor, and my foot was clean, bandaged, and wrapped in a plastic bag, just in case the health inspector came by.

My dad’s a chef, and he has his own little restaurant, which he named after me. Not Bea, which is what people call me. Beatrice. Dad says for the prices he charges, Beatrice works better. My favorite dinner at Dad’s restaurant is French toast. It’s not on the menu, but he invented a way to make it extra crispy but still magically soft in the middle. I have to eat it in the kitchen. Kids aren’t supposed to be eating French toast and doing word-find puzzles in the dining room at Beatrice.

Jesse was hunched over the big reservations book, making notes on a yellow pad. Every day, Jesse called all the people who had reservations to eat at Beatrice the following night. Most people didn’t answer their phones. I listened to him leave messages.

Hi, this is Jesse, calling from Beatrice. I’m confirming your reservation for dinner tomorrow night at (whatever) o’clock. If your plans have changed, could you give us a call? Thanks, and we’re very much looking forward to seeing you!

Over and over and over. Whenever he said the word Beatrice, Jesse made a funny face and pointed at me, which would have made me laugh except I wasn’t supposed to, because he had to sound professional.

In between calls, I asked Jesse wedding questions.

Was the wedding definitely going to be in May?

Definitely May.

Where?

They were having it right there, at the restaurant, in the dining room and the back garden.

What about the customers?

The restaurant would be closed that night.

Closed!

Yes. Closed for a special occasion. There would be a sign for the front door.

What was Jesse going to wear?

A suit, probably.

What about Dad?

A suit, probably.

Who was going to be invited?

Everyone!

Would there be a huge cake like on TV?

Absolutely.

Could Rocco come?

Hmm. He had to get back to me on that one.

—

When his calls were finished, Jesse started opening oysters for the lunch customers. A lot of people eat oysters at Beatrice because there’s a special oyster lunch. Jesse talked Dad into it, and now people come from all over the city to eat oysters there.