| OCR Text |
Show Nettie, Page 95 whispered, "Serve to the left, take from the right," and went to her own customer at her assigned station. Nettie lifted her chin, took a deep breath and shuffled carefully across the room, her eyes glancing down frequently at the jiggling cup of coffee. The morning passed in a blur. Rose whispered instructions and Nettie carried them out. Though her heart was in her mouth most of the time, Nettie managed to get through the morning without a major disaster, though remembering which side to serve from and which to take from caused her the most difficulty. She found herself repeating the words "serve left-take right" between trips to the kitchen and her table. At length the dining room cleared and only the girls were left, cleaning up their tables in their respective stations, readying for the noon meal, now only a couple of hours away. Nettie's lone table was soon cleaned and ready and she turned to watch the other girls. The steward bustled importantly to her table. "Miss Peterson, the knife should be turned in toward the plate, the water glass should be an inch from the tip of the knife and the napkin should be turned in this direction, not pointing out somewhere else," and he adjusted what looked to Nettie like a minute correction in the placement of the cloth. He sniffed as he peered at the rest of the table, but unable to make further comment on it, he spat out as he left, "Be here at 12 sharp for the luncheon hour." Nettie let out a huge sigh, and took her first relaxed breath since 5:00 a.m. that morning. It was now 9:30 a.m. and she realized she was |
