Free Like Grownups Do by Nathan Roden Page B

only. Two rows of people watched from the sidewalk outside. People throughout the inside crowd asked about food and drink. Klaus announced that there was no food and he was unable to sell any drinks or he would have none for the next day’s business. Within thirty minutes, people arrived with food and drinks bought elsewhere in the neighborhood.
    As the game progressed the atmosphere came to rival what was going on in sports bars all over town, and maybe even at Fenway itself. At one point during the seventh inning stretch, while the crowd swayed, high-fived, and sang “Take me out to the ballgame”, Klaus, Lewis, and Leo looked at each other. Their knowing smiles conveyed that they shared the same thought.
    Momma’s would never be the same.
     
    The next afternoon, Frieda looked around the living room at the faces of her three boys.
    “Klaus, we have our hands full just being open from eleven until three, six days a week. We get by with a small number of employees, and we live very well. And what about the three weeks a year we go back to Germany? Mama and Papa are so old,” Frieda said.
    “Frieda, I have discussed this with Lewis and Leo. They would very much like to be involved. Lewis is going to take a course in bar tending and Leo plans to do the same next year. They have many friends at school that are interested in working as well. This type of business will give them extended opportunities and options in their careers,” Klaus said.
    “We would have to borrow money to expand like this, Klaus,” Frieda said.
    Klaus smiled. He handed Frieda a stack of white cards.
    “For years I have collected the business cards of our customers who are bankers, and many have said to me, “Klaus, if you ever want to grow, please come and see me’.
    “I think we begin with being open late during baseball season. The boys are capable of running things on their own, so I see no reason to change ‘The Exodus’.”
     
    ‘The Exodus’ had been a popular nickname for years. The name was popularized by a regular customer in 1990 to denote the last three weeks of November every year when The Schroeders traveled to Germany to visit family and friends. This pilgrimage meant that since Frieda would not give her recipes to anyone or allow the meat to be frozen, she had to prepare huge batches of meat and sauce in a three day marathon session prior to their departure. The restaurant remained open in the Schroeder’s absence only until the meat was gone. The restaurant was then closed until their return.
    Reservations for the four hours of lunch service were made weeks in advance of The Exodus, and were considered a badge of honor.
     
    Babe and Tom joined Jordan at their reserved table. Babe snickered as he pulled out his chair. There was a large Styrofoam to-go container already on the table, which could only mean one thing at Momma’s.
    “The Sectional, huh Jordan? Well played. Feeling a surge of testosterone?” asked Babe.
    Jordan smiled and shrugged.
    The ‘Sectional’ was the signature burger at Momma’s—three rectangular patties on three rectangular buns arranged in a “U” shape, with the top buns standing open. The arrangement resembled a sectional sofa. This specialty was Klaus’s creation. When someone ordered the Sectional, the first thing brought to the table was the leftover box.
    “I’ll be putting half the damn thing in that box. I’m not nearly as tough as MG. You ever see her use the box? Hell no, you don’t.” Jordan said.
     
    Jordan stared at Tom, who had changed into a wildly patterned tropical print shirt before leaving the office. “Tom, what the hell are you wearing?”
    “Christie and I are off to Jamaica next week, so I’m slip sliding into the mood. What do you think? “Tom asked, holding his arms straight out and twisting in his seat.
    “Looks like Jimmy Buffet binged on fruitcake and piña coladas and threw up on you,” Jordan said.
    “Exactly the look I was going for,” Tom