A Month of Lettuce and Snow chapter 2.3

The dining hall came alive long before the noon meal was ready.

Doors opened and closed with steady rhythm as researchers drifted in from every direction of the station. Heavy boots were left neatly beside the entrance before being exchanged for indoor shoes. Parkas disappeared onto hooks along the wall, their shoulders dusted with fine crystals of snow that melted almost at once in the warmth.

The room was never noisy.

It hummed.

Conversations wandered comfortably between weather reports, research schedules, equipment that needed repairing, and the simple question of whether anyone had remembered to make enough coffee.

Zeulla stood beside Merino, arranging fresh loaves into baskets while Henrik carried steaming pots from the stove.

Merino had insisted the bread be served first.

"If people smell bread," he had said that morning, "they'll forgive almost anything else."

Henrik had laughed.

"You've done this before."

"A few times."

The first researchers arrived with cheerful greetings.

A Spanish glaciologist thanked them in careful English before asking if there was any more butter.

"There is," Merino answered, "but not as much as you think."

The man grinned.

"I'll pretend I never asked."

A meteorologist from Norway complimented the soup.

One of the engineers declared that Merino's bread alone justified inviting chefs from Europe.

Merino accepted every compliment with the same small nod before returning his attention to the next plate.

Zeulla noticed something else.

No matter who approached the serving counter, Henrik greeted them by name.

She wondered how many winters it had taken to learn them all.

The room slowly filled.

Chairs scraped gently across the floor.

Steam rose from bowls.

Laughter drifted now and then from one table before settling again into quiet conversation.

Then, almost as though the station itself had been waiting, the dining hall door opened once more.

A tall man stepped inside, brushing snow from the shoulders of his jacket before removing his gloves.

Stiaano.

Henrik smiled without looking surprised.

"There he is."

Zeulla glanced toward the clock.

"He's late."

Henrik shook his head.

"No."

She looked puzzled.

"He's Stiaano."

As though that explained everything.

Stiaano greeted those nearest the door before joining the line. By then only a few people remained waiting for lunch.

Merino filled his plate just as carefully as he had filled the first.

"There you are," Merino said.

"I was beginning to think the penguins had adopted you."

"They tried."

"And?"

"They decided I talked too much."

Merino looked unconvinced.

"I don't believe that."

"Neither did they."

Zeulla smiled to herself.

He thanked both cooks before carrying his tray to the same table near the window.

Not once during the meal did he hurry.

He ate slowly, pausing now and then to look through the glass toward the rocky shoreline below.

By the time most of the researchers had finished eating, Stiaano was still enjoying the last of his soup.

When at last he rose, he carried his tray to the sink, stacked his dishes neatly, wiped the table without being asked, and glanced toward the coffee pot.

Seeing it nearly empty, he quietly brewed another.

No one commented.

It was simply something he always did.

Zeulla watched him leave.

He was the last one out.

Just as Henrik had said.

Photo's generated by chatGPT.

Links ❤️
Chapter 1
https://peakd.com/proofofbrain/@jellyvine/a-month-of-lettuce-and-snow-01

Chapter 2.1
https://peakd.com/hive-121077/@jellyvine/a-month-of-lettuce-and-snow-2-1-98ngnr1o

Chapter 2.2
https://peakd.com/hive-121077/@jellyvine/a-month-of-lettuce-and-snow-22