The Directions

This story is by Jeffrey Campbell and was part of our 2025 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

She put on her glasses then set the alarm on her watch. She confirmed the time with the digital clock on the wall. 12:02 PM.  She looked to her right.  The island layout gave her a view of the entire serving process.  Diyaris Fernandez started walking from the storage room toward the swinging traffic doors on the far side of the kitchen.

In the first area, she watched as Bryson and Pamela worked at the cleaning station.  Bryson washed the dishes, cups and cutlery while Pamela dried them.  Phillip arrived to take a clean load as Jerrod brought another to be sanitized.

In the center, Douglas, Brady, Christina, Naomi and Patricia cooked and assembled orders at their responsible stations.

At the end, Rachel, Diana and Ryan each gave the finished dishes a final inspection before passing them to the arriving servers.  Diyaris stopped as she came to the edge of the packed dining room.

She looked around the corner of the service bar into the food preparation area.  Jenna, Amber, Marty and David printed out and inspected order tickets before gathering the required ingredients.

Every person was focused on their tasks and communicated as necessary.

Diyaris nodded as she watched her staff work.  Each member of the steakhouse’s culinary crew performed their duties how they were supposed to, when they were supposed to and where they were supposed to.  Except for one person.  He stood out as he walked into the food preparation area.

He was at least a head taller than anyone in the kitchen, and his impressive belly proved he was someone who enjoyed his cuisine.  A brown button-down long sleeve shirt stretched over the front of his black slacks and the burgundy belt securing them.  He waited until the staff was clear of him before he lifted the clipboard in his left hand, took the pen from his shirt pocket with the other and looked around before he made a few notes.  When he was finished, he pulled a small bag from under his left arm and put it under the writing board.  He walked toward the kitchen entrance and nodded when he saw Diyaris.

She returned the gesture.

“I’ll be in the dining room when you’re free,” he said in a crisp tone when he reached her.

“When we’re done with lunch, I’ll meet you.”

The man walked out of the kitchen, and Diyaris didn’t watch him leave.

One hour later, she walked into the dining room.  She grabbed the white towel on her shoulder, removed her glasses and wiped her face before she looked for the man.  She spotted him sitting alone at a four-person table near the entrance.  He was writing again on his clipboard.  She replaced her glasses, made her way to where he was, pulled out a chair and sat across from him.

Walt Devers’ health inspector badge sat on the table.  Diyaris hadn’t spent much time with him, but one of the servers told her what she knew.  He had done this job for seventeen years but was new to the area.  He’d moved with his wife due to her latest Air Force promotion.  Once Walt finished writing, he put down his pen and looked up.

“This steakhouse was the first place I heard about when I moved here,” he said.

“And?” she said as she put her hands on the table and clasped them.

Walt looked at her for a moment before he smiled.  This is one of the nicest restaurants I’ve inspected.  I only found one, maybe two issues.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but two issues are two too many,” she said as she pressed her back against the chair.  She did this to stretch and squish a drip of sweat rolling between her shoulder blades.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes,” she said and leaned forward again.  “Just an itch.”

Walt nodded before he looked down at the clipboard.  “First issue.  There was a little food debris on the base of one of the kitchen sinks.  It’s nowhere near the surface but needs addressing.”

“I’ll have them cleaned right away.  The second?”

“I don’t think it’s a violation, but it’s a foreign object.”

“Foreign object?”

“This,” Walt said as he lifted his left elbow and handed Diyaris the bag she’d seen him with earlier.  “Found it in the freezer, not sure what it is honestly.”

“Ok,” she said, and gently took the bag.  Chris, a server, happened to walk by their table.  Diyaris waved him over.

“Chris, I need a favor.”

“Ma’am?”

“Please tell the cooks to clean the kitchen sinks.  The inspector found food debris on one.”

“Done,” Chris said and turned towards the kitchen.

“I can’t say I’ve seen anything like this before, so I wasn’t sure how to classify it,” Walt said.

Diyaris inspected the bag then sighed.  “Where did you find this?”

“On the bottom of a cookie dough box.  It fell off when I was putting it back on the shelf.  I thought it was a packing slip at first.”

“How did it get there?”

“What is it?”

“A map.”

“To where?”

“Our founder’s home.”

“Pardon?”

Diyaris looked at Walt and put the bag on the table.  “I’m sorry.  It’s a map to the home of this restaurant’s founders.  They are, were, a couple.  The man, Patrick, passed away last year.  His widow, Corina, still lives there.”

“So, what’s the story behind it?”

“Corina comes by the steakhouse sometimes to check on us.  She and Patrick built this together over the course of a decade.  He was great at steaks, and she perfected our famous chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake.  She won some awards and even got into a famous magazine before she sold the recipe.”

“Nice.  How do you know that’s hers?”

“The handwriting.”

“Why’d she make it?”

“Until recently, she drove herself around because she didn’t want anyone to wait on her.  She lives about five miles away, so she figured it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Until it was.”

Diyaris nodded.  “She came in last week, and I saw her with this but didn’t say anything.  She must’ve misplaced it.”

“What happened?”

“Her daughter, son-in-law and three grandchildren just moved here to be close to her.  It was also the youngest’s fourth birthday, and she’d never had her grandma’s famous cheesecake.”

“And she made it.”

“Yes.  They all came in and ate together.  After a few hours, her daughter’s family went back to their own home.  Corina stuck around though.  She likes to catch up with the staff but has a hard time remembering names now.”

“Then what?”

“After talking with us, and begging me to take some time off, she decided to go home and clean”, Diyaris said with a smile.  “That’s her code for saying she needs a nap.”

They both laughed.

“Just like my old man,” Walt said.  “I’ll ask him the score after the game, but he can’t tell me until he sees it on the ticker.  Did Corina make it home alright?”

“No.”

“No?”

“She called the restaurant about an hour later crying.  Said she didn’t know where she was.”

Why didn’t she call her daughter?”

“Because she didn’t want to wake up her grandkids or their parents.  She knew they were exhausted from the move.”

“Did she make it home?”

“Yes.  Chris, the server who stopped by, was able to get enough of a description of her surroundings to figure out where she was.  A hostess just getting off work drove him to her location.”

“Where was she?”

“About ten miles away.  Chris took her home.”

“Thank goodness.  That doesn’t explain how the map got attached to the cookie dough box though.”

“I guess she had it out while she was making her recipe.  She must’ve forgotten to put it away before she stared assembling the ingredients.”

Walt looked down.  “My mom did the same kind of stuff.  She locked her stuffed animals in a spare bedroom to make sure they wouldn’t run away.  Had to ask me what mine and my siblings names and birthdays were to make sure we got cards.  I never told any of them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Alzheimer’s runs on both sides of my family.  Since mom passed, dad’s been misplacing his tools, forgetting days, names, stuff he always knew…he just doesn’t now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“The sinks have been cleaned ma’am,” Chris said as he returned to the table.  “Do either of you want something to drink?”

Walt rubbed his eyes before he glanced at his watch.  “No, thank you,” he said before he stood.  “Looks like I better get going.”  He gathered his things before extending his right hand to Diyaris.

She stood up and shook his hand.  “Thank you, Walt.  Come by anytime.”

“Thank you, Diyaris.  You’ve done a great job.  I’ll look forward to coming back again.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll meet Corina on my next visit?”

Diyaris smiled.  “Let’s hope so.”

Walt smiled before he turned and walked out the door.