CHAPTER FOUR – THE PIZZERIA

Later that afternoon, Joan arrived at Miles Pizza for her shift, her mind still partly occupied with the stubborn statistics problems. She tied on her apron and nodded a greeting to her coworkers, determined to focus on the job at hand. For the first hour or so, everything ran smoothly. The dinner rush hadn't quite started yet, and Joan found herself falling into the familiar rhythm of taking orders and preparing pizzas. Then, without warning, chaos erupted. A piercing alarm cut through the usual kitchen noise, accompanied by a sudden burst of smoke from one of the fryers. Joan's colleague, a high school student named Alex, let out a yelp of surprise. "Oh my god, oh my god!" Alex cried, flapping his arms uselessly. "The fryer's on fire!" Joan rushed over, her heart pounding. The fryer wasn't actually on fire, but it was definitely malfunctioning, belching out alarming amounts of smoke. "Alex, calm down!" Joan shouted over the alarm. "It's not on fire. Where's Mike?" "He stepped out to take a call!" another coworker, Samantha, called from the front counter. "What do we do?" Joan took a deep breath, forcing herself to think clearly despite the chaos around her. "Okay, first things first. Sam, call Mike and tell him to get back here now. Alex, open the back door to let some of this smoke out." As her coworkers scrambled to follow her instructions, Joan approached the malfunctioning fryer cautiously. The smoke was getting thicker, and she could hear a worrying sizzling sound coming from the machine. "We're all gonna die!" Alex wailed dramatically as he propped open the back door. "Nobody is dying, Alex," Joan said firmly, though her own heart was racing. "Sam, where's the fire extinguisher?" "Under the sink!" Sam called back. "But won't that make it worse if it's not actually on fire?" Joan hesitated. She knew Sam had a point, but the situation was escalating quickly. The smoke was starting to fill the kitchen, and she could hear customers in the dining area starting to murmur in concern. "Okay, new plan," Joan announced. "Alex, go out front and calmly ask the customers to exit the building. Tell them it's just a precaution. Sam, call the fire department, just in case." "The fire department?" Alex squeaked. "But you said it wasn't on fire!" "It's not," Joan assured him, "but better safe than sorry. Now go!" As Alex and Sam carried out their tasks, Joan turned her attention back to the fryer. She knew she needed to shut it off, but the controls were obscured by smoke. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her shirt up over her nose and mouth and inched closer. Just as she reached for the power switch, she heard Mike's voice behind her. "Joan! What the hell is going on?" "Fryer malfunction!" Joan called back, coughing as she finally managed to hit the switch. The sizzling sound slowly died down, but the smoke continued to billow. Mike appeared at her side, a fire extinguisher in hand. "Everyone out!" he ordered. "Joan, you too. Let's not take any chances." Joan nodded, her eyes watering from the smoke. She followed Mike out the back door, gulping in the fresh air gratefully. Outside, she found Alex and Sam huddled with a small crowd of confused-looking customers. In the distance, she could hear the wail of approaching sirens. "Is everyone okay?" Joan asked, looking around at her shaken coworkers. Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Just a bit freaked out." "Speak for yourself," Alex said, his voice shaky. "I think I aged ten years in there." Despite the tension, Joan couldn't help but laugh. "Welcome to the exciting world of food service, Alex." Mike emerged from the building, looking relieved. "Okay, crisis averted. The fire department will check everything out, but I think we managed to shut it down in time. Good thinking in there, Joan." Joan felt a flush of pride at her boss's words. "Thanks, Mike. I just tried to stay calm and think logically." Mike clapped her on the shoulder. "Well, it paid off. You handled that situation like a pro. I'm impressed." As the fire trucks pulled up and the firefighters began their inspection, Joan found herself surrounded by her grateful coworkers. Even Alex, who had been panicking just minutes before, was looking at her with newfound respect. "That was amazing, Joan," Sam said. "How did you stay so cool under pressure?" Joan shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed by the attention. "I guess all that psychology training is good for something after all." Later that evening, Joan finally made it home, exhausted but oddly exhilarated from the day's events. She found her father in the living room, reading a book. He looked up as she entered, a warm smile spreading across his face. "There's my hero," he said, setting his book aside. "I heard about your adventure at the pizza place. Are you okay?" Joan collapsed onto the couch next to him. "I'm fine, Dad. Just tired. How did you hear about it?" Her father chuckled. "Small town, remember? News travels fast, especially when it involves near-disasters at popular pizza joints." Joan groaned. "Great. I'll probably be known as the Pizza Fire Girl for the next month." "Hey now," her father said, his tone growing serious. "From what I heard, you handled that situation incredibly well. You should be proud of yourself." Joan felt a warmth in her chest at her father's words. "Thanks, Dad. I was pretty scared, to be honest, but I just tried to remember all those crisis management techniques we learned about in class." Her father nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, Joan, watching you juggle your studies and your job, handling crises both big and small... it reminds me so much of your mother." Joan felt a lump form in her throat. They didn't talk about her mother often; the loss was still painful, even after all these years. "Really?" she asked softly. Her father reached out and took her hand. "Really. She had that same drive, that same ability to stay calm in chaos. But honey, I have to ask... are you sure you're not taking on too much?" Joan blinked, surprised by the question. "What do you mean?" Her father sighed. "I mean, you're working so hard at your job, pushing yourself in your studies, trying to keep the house running smoothly... I worry that you're stretching yourself too thin." "I'm fine, Dad," Joan insisted, but even as she said it, she felt the weight of exhaustion settling over her. Her father gave her a knowing look. "Are you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're running yourself ragged. And as proud as I am of you – and believe me, I am incredibly proud – I can't help but worry." Joan felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "I just... I want to do well, you know? I want to make something of myself, make you proud, make Mom proud..." "Oh, sweetheart," her father said, pulling her into a hug. "You already make us proud. Every single day. You don't have to run yourself into the ground to prove anything." Joan let herself melt into her father's embrace, feeling like a little girl again. "But there's so much to do," she mumbled into his shoulder. "The house, Tim, work, school..." Her father pulled back, looking her in the eye. "And you don't have to do it all alone. I know things have been tough since your mom passed, but we're a team, remember? You, me, and Tim. We're supposed to support each other." Joan nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I know. I just... I feel like if I don't keep everything together, it'll all fall apart." "It won't," her father assured her. "We won't let it. But you need to take care of yourself too. Your mom... she always said that you can't pour from an empty cup. You need to make sure you're taking time to refill your own cup, so to speak." Joan managed a watery chuckle. "That sounds like something Mom would say." Her father smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "She was a wise woman. And she'd be the first to tell you that it's okay to ask for help, to take a break when you need it." Joan took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension she'd been carrying start to ease. "You're right. I guess I have been pushing myself pretty hard lately." "You have," her father agreed. "And while I admire your work ethic, I love you too much to watch you burn out.”