Lorraine's Kitchen, Mirror Estate
Wednesday morning
Connor
As usual, Connor Murray went downstairs to the restaurant to help his wife, Lorraine, set up for the day bright and early. Lorraine’s Kitchen didn’t open until 10:00 a.m., but they needed to do a lot of prep work first. He’d made sure Sean, their ten-year-old son, was up and ready for school before heading downstairs. His family, along with his in-laws, Max and Kate Warner, all lived in the quarters above the restaurant, a perk of being part of the Marino household. Of course, they weren’t related to the Marinos, but Max had been with the family for decades as the majordomo. Max’s father had also been the Marinos’ head butler.
“Morning, Connor.” Kate joined them in the kitchen. Max had likely gone over to the main house to start his day. Kate always helped out, either in the kitchen or out front.
“Morning, Kate.” Connor flashed her a smile as he began chopping vegetables while Lorraine bustled around, organizing the ingredients and ensuring everything was in its place.
“Here, Sean, your lunch.” Lorraine held out his lunch pack.
The boy grabbed it and dashed off with a quick “Thanks, Mom!”
His chest swelling, Connor watched his son walk out the door. Turning back to his task, he focused on the steady rhythm of chopping, the sound oddly soothing.
While prepping her kitchen, Lorraine asked, “What do you think of the new priest?”
“Fr. Jeremy? He’s young, but he seems nice.” Kate handed Connor a bowl of freshly washed tomatoes.
Fr. Jeremy seemed about Connor’s age, late thirties or early forties, but then Kate still called them kids. “Does that mean Fr. Phil is finally retiring? He’s talked about it for a while.”
“Seems like it.” Lorraine arranged the tomatoes on a platter. “Fr. Jeremy’s homily was good, though. Fresh perspective.”
Connor nodded, thinking about last Sunday Mass. “Yeah, he is good. Brings a different energy.”
He headed out to the dining room to set the tables. The morning light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the neatly arranged room. This quiet time before the rush, the calm before the storm, was always a blessing.
“Hey, you guys open yet?” A voice hollered from outside the side door.
This happened once in a while. People didn’t want to go out front to check the opening hours. Connor headed to the side door and peered out. The person he saw brought him back to that fateful day.
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Dad looked him in the eye through the mirror and mouthed, “Run!”
The man turned and looked into his eyes.
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In an instant, his heart raced, his hands clammy. He managed to mutter, “We’re open at ten.”
