Louise walked into the kitchen and did a double-take when she stumbled upon the familiar sight of the unexpected but welcoming presence in the Belcher's kitchen.

There was a tall, long-legged, middle-aged. man sitting slumped over the kitchen table, staring down at the plain, round slab of wood before him, his narrow shoulders hunched over his lean frame. His fair, balding hair was shortly-cropped in a buz cut. He looked so much like his father now the resemblance was uncanny. Louise almost didn't recognize him. Like her, he had grown up, but she knew he was the same old Rudy when he looked up and smiled at her.

"H-Hey Louise," he said, standing up on his stork-like legs, running his awkward fingers over the rim of his receding hairline. "Long time no see."

He was acting so much like the gawky little boy she remembered, it was almost like they were in school again.

She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him, enfolding him in a gentle hug, remembering his asthma and not wanting to trigger it. "Hey, Rudy, it's great to see you." She pulled away from him with great reluctance, craning her neck in order to peer up at him, saddened by the age lines she saw carved into the rosey plane of his flushed cheeks. "How's life treatin' ya?"

Rudy bobbed his head up and down. "Great," he said, draping one of his hands over one of her slender shoulders and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Just looking for a job." He stared down at his feet in shame, shifted them from side to side, only lifting his head back up seconds later to grimace at Louise. "I was actually hoping you could give me one at the restaurant."

It was Louise's turn to reassure him. "Sure thing, pal," she said, clapping him on the back, unoffended by his request. "I run it now with Tina and Gene so I'll be the one to gladly give it to you!"

"Awesome," Rudy said, pumping his fist in the air, not sounding as if it was awesome at all.

"What's wrong?" Louise asked him, concerned. "Aren't you happy?"

Rudy shook his head. "No," he said, much to Lousie's dismay. "I feel ashamed taking money from you."

"Don't be," Lousie said. "If anything, you're taking old Fischoeder's money, not ours, so think of it more that way and it'll make you feel better, okay?"

"Okay," Rudy agreed, if somewhat reluctantly, but he seemed a little bit more satisfied than what he had been just moments before. "I'll take the job."


Rudy started work the next day. He seemed to enjoy it, though some of the customers got on his nerves. In some ways, he reminded her of her father, particularly in the way he handled the customers, especially the ones he didn't like. The people he detested he regarded with intense contempt and chose to ignore what they said when he served them, much like her father had at times. Other times he would grow flustered and go to the back to cool off rather than have them see him blow his top. He wanted to keep his dignity. Louise didn't blame him. She was proud of him.

Her father seemed to feel the same way toward Rudy, surprising Louise to no end when he expressed his acceptance of the new chef. "He's doing great," he said, taking a swig of his morning coffee, watching Rudy work from the table he was sitting at. "You picked a good one, Louise."

Louise beamed. She thought she had never been happier. There was nothing she wanted more than her father's approval. Everything seemed to be going wonderful until Mr. Fischoeder came limping in on his cane.

The elderly business tycoon had aged considerably over the years. He slumped over his cane, no longer standing in the dignified way he has ever since the Belchers had known him. He hadn't aged gracefully. He had lost what remaining hair he had left.

"Why, hello, Belcher's," he greeted them with scathing dislike, his weary, one remaining eye scanning the restaurant with questioning authority, inspecting it, do doubt, for work violations. As their landlord, he was always looking for excuses to fire one of them or kick them off the property so he could evict them. He skeptically raised one of his bushy, grey eyebrows when he spotted Rudy behind the counter. "And who is this?"

"None of your beeswax," Louise snapped, feeling oddly protective of Rudy.

Linda walked in. "It's one of Louise's old friends from school, Rudy," she said, having been completely oblivious to the rest of the conversation. "He started working here for us today and we're happy to have him."

"MOM!"

"Why, thank you, Miss. Belcher," Rudy said, ignoring Louise's protest. "I'm glad you're happy to have me." He turned to Lousie, put a hand on his chest, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Do not worry, Lousie. I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself."

"And how!" Louise exclaimed, impressed. In school, Rudy had always been afraid to stick up for himself when he was being bullied, so she was glad to see him stand up for himself for a change.

Fischoeder didn't seem as taken by Rudy as the rest of them were.

"You better keep this place squeaky clean, young man, you hear me?" the old man said, shaking a scolding finger at him, as if he was a child.

Ever the good sport, Rudy saluted him, ignoring the condescending way with which Fischoeder spoke to him. "Yes, sir," he said, going back to his cleaning.

"Excellent," Mr. Fischoeder said before walking out the door, letting it shut behind him.

"Well, that went better than what could've been expected," Louise said. "He could've had you fired."

"Not under my roof," her father said. "What I say goes around here, not what Mr. Fischoeder says. It's my restaurant, not his."

"Well, technically, it's mine now, but I know what you mean, father," Louise said, looking over at Rudy. "So, what did you think of your first day?"

"Uh…" Rudy began, trailing off into silence.

Louise laughed. "Don't worry," she said. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

He didn't have to say anything. They all understood.