Maya hits the brakes as she pulls up in front of a diner to complete her final delivery of baked goods, having already made stops at four coffee shops in town.
Her eyes were itchy, her breathing was labored, and her knees ached. She felt exhausted as if she were dying, and her migraines had worsened. Once again, she had refused to take her painkillers and was now suffering, as usual.
Maya rested her head on the steering wheel. "God, I need strength," she murmured.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the car window. Maya lifted her head to see a woman in her sixties smiling at her. It was Mrs. Thompson, the owner of the diner.
Maya smiled in return, hiding her fatigue. Mrs. Thompson moved aside, and Maya got out of the pickup truck.
"Sorry for the delay. I woke up late today," Maya apologized as she opened the backseat door and carefully carried out two boxes of doughnuts stacked on top of one box of chocolate chip muffins.
"Are you okay, dear? You don't look well," Mrs. Thompson inquired, her concern evident. She picked up one of the boxes to lighten Maya's load.
"I am fine, Mrs. Thompson. Please don't worry." Maya leads the way into the diner. She was glad that her wound wasn't causing her to limp anymore; otherwise, Mrs. Thompson would have been more concerned. Before leaving home, she cleaned her wound again, used a Band-Aid to cover it, and applied an Eutectic Mixture of Local Anesthetics cream to ease the pain.
Maya's face brightened when she noticed a few familiar customers seated at their tables, waiting to be served.
"Hey, doughnuts and chocolate chip muffins are here! Sorry for the delay, everyone," Maya chirps with a smile.
"Finally!" exclaimed a guy wearing glasses, his excitement emitting.
"Thank goodness you're here, Maya," one lady said. "My day would have been terrible if I didn't eat your delicious doughnuts today," the lady added making Maya laugh out loud.
A waitress took the load off Maya's hands and served the customers who had requested doughnuts and chocolate chip muffins.
Maya wanted to leave, but Mrs. Thompson stopped her. "You are not escaping, young lady; sit down and eat breakfast before you go," she said to Maya in a tone reminiscent of a school principal.
Mrs. Thompson then guided Maya to one of the diner's booths and forced her to sit down.
"I will get you breakfast; don't move," she warned before leaving to fetch the food.
Mrs. Thompson returned a few minutes later. "I hope you enjoy it," she said as she placed a large slice of apple pie in front of Maya.
Maya's stomach growled in response. The apple pie looks delicious.
"Rate it please," Mrs. Thompson requested, as she hovers over Maya with her hand on her hip, patiently waiting for feedback.
Maya took a large bite, and her eyes lit up. "This is absolutely delicious! I would rate it a 100 out of 10." She took another bite and sighed with pleasure. "You are such a talented baker, Mrs. Thompson."
Mrs. Thompson smiled widely. "Oh dear, I'm glad you love it."
Maya grinned at her. "I will come here every day for apple pie," she joked.
Mrs. Thompson laughed. "You know breakfast is always free for you here. You are family, Maya."
Maya felt a warm sensation spread through her chest. She worked part-time as a waitress in this diner when she was sixteen and worked continuously until she left for Paris. Since then, Mrs. Thompson has shown her so much kindness, treating her like a daughter. Maya will be forever grateful to her.
"Let me go take care of the customers," Mrs. Thompson said.
"Okay," Maya replied, watching her walk away.
Maya shifted her focus to the apple pie. After just a few bites, she felt a little better. Perhaps her fatigue was partly due to hunger.
Maya quickly wolfed down the apple pie as if she had been starving for days. She didn't realize she was this hungry.
"Would you like some more?" Mrs. Thompson asked as she returned with a glass of strawberry yogurt. She placed it on the table.
Maya shook her head. "I'm full."
"Hopefully not too full to turn down the strawberry yogurt," Mrs. Thompson said warmly.
Maya chuckled. "Nope." She picked up the glass of strawberry yogurt from the table and took a sip. "Thank you."
While Maya was enjoying her yogurt, a stout-looking woman with rosy cheeks, who appeared to be around Mrs. Thompson's age, approached them.
"You don't seem happy today, my friend," Mrs. Thompson said to the woman.
The woman sighed and sat down across from Maya. "I'm in distress," she said. "I have been trying to make the best lobster ravioli for my godson. That was the meal his late father used to prepare for him on his birthdays. But he doesn't like my lobster ravioli. He takes only one bite and then rejects it. It is not as good as his father's," the woman lamented.
Mrs. Thompson sat next to her. "Your godson is a spoiled brat. How could he reject your lobster ravioli?" She huffs. "You are an excellent cook," Mrs. Thompson consoles her.
"No, my godson is a good man. It's just that his late father's lobster ravioli was so exceptional that no one could compete. His secretary informed me that he just closed a big deal. I want him to celebrate with lobster ravioli, but he dislikes mine," she wails.
The woman continues, "I wanted to order some from a good restaurant, but their food is bland and tasteless. So I wanted to ask if you know any good cooks who can make the best lobster ravioli for my godson."
Mrs. Thompson turned her gaze toward Maya and smiled. "You are so fortunate, my friend. We are sitting in the presence of a great chef."
Maya paused halfway through drinking her strawberry yogurt and looked at Mrs. Thompson with a puzzled expression.
"This is Chef Maya. She is going to make the best lobster ravioli for your godson," Mrs. Thompson boasted.
"Huh?" Maya blinked in surprise.
"Oh, really?" The woman's voice was filled with hope.
Suddenly, she reached out and grasped Maya's hand. "Please, dear, follow me home to cook for my godson."
"Follow her home?" Maya repeated in her mind. That was not how she had envisioned her day. Today was her day off from her junior chef job at the five star restaurant. She wanted to go home, take a nap, and watch some good K-drama before starting her shift at the gentlemen's club. Instead, she found herself having to follow a stranger home to cook for some dude. However, the desperation in the woman's eyes and the persuasive look Mrs. Thompson gave her made It hard to refuse.
"Okay," Maya said weakly.
"Thank you!" the woman exclaimed with joy.
"Great, no rest for me", Maya thought. She is the true definition of a hustler.