Page 17 of Happy Endings

Xavier sputtered and grabbed a stack of bar napkins to wipe the Coke off his face and neck. “You got a problem with me appreciating the female form? I’m in a delivery truck all day. Let me live vicariously through you.”

“Right. As if you don’t have women opening their door wearing nothing but a towel when your brown truck pulls up to their house.”

“You got me.” Xavier held up his hands. “You win. Now, what’sthe deal with this woman? The last time you got pissy was when—” Xavier stopped and gaped at him.

Andre grabbed a towel and wiped the soda from the bar. He could feel the heat of his best friend’s stare.

“Hold up, are you telling me that the woman selling vibrators in your mama’s restaurant was—”

“Trixie Nguyen. My ex.”

“Damn.” Xavier drew out the word then laughed. “After what happened in New Orleans, I hope you didn’t hook up with her.”

“Can you stop talking about my sex life?”

“What sex life?!” Xavier guffawed at his own joke. He quieted when Andre didn’t respond. “You all right, bro?”

“How the hell do you think I felt seeing her again?” Andre poured himself a tonic, wishing he could add gin to it, but dinner service started in an hour. “It was shitty.”

“Look, Miss Hazel was sick, and you had to come home to take care of your mama. If she couldn’t understand that, then she wasn’t right for you.”

“I never told her why I left.” Andre cringed. It sounded worse when he said it out loud. “I left her a note.”

“Aw, man. That’s not cool.” Xavier held up his finger as if he had something more to say. He took a deep swallow of his soda. “But it’s the past, bro. Life ain’tGroundhog Day.”

“I left because I couldn’t do to her what my father did to my mom.” Andre closed his eyes, remembering how he’d tracked down his father’s old friends so he could learn more about the man, know more about where he came from, and the disappointment that came with it. “I didn’t want to keep her from her dreams the way my dad did to Mama.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Andre? I thought yourfather died in a car crash when you were just a little kid.” Xavier tilted his head in confusion.

“He did. But they had a fight before he died.” Andre leaned in, even though they were the only ones in the dining area. “Mama wanted to open a small restaurant in New Orleans. Use some of their savings. He flat-out refused. Said he didn’t want any wife of his cooking for strange men.”

Xavier whistled. “That’s some old-school shit.”

Andre nodded. “She tried to bring it up again, but he refused to even listen to her business plan. You know Mama had a good head for business.”

“She sure did. Miss Hazel was a tough lady.”

“Mama was going to make an ultimatum. Half her share of their savings or a divorce. The car accident happened before she could do it.” Andre wiped down the bar again. “That’s when she packed everything she owned and moved us here. Fresh start.”

“You learned all that while you were in New Orleans?” Xavier looked incredulous.

“Yup.” Andre nodded again.

“What does that have to do with Trixie?”

“Trixie.” Andre sighed. “Her parents gave her an ultimatum. Keep studying to be a pharmacist or they’d cut her off. When she chose to become a therapist, her parents blamed it on me. The American Black boy from DC with his big-city ideas.”

“They didn’t like that you’re Black?”

“No, not like that. Apparently Vietnamese people don’t believe in therapy. At least her folks didn’t. To them, I was an outsider who didn’t understand how things worked in Vietnamese families. Too American, they told her. They really cut her off, too. I thought that stuff only happened in movies.”

“Damn, bro.” Xavier shook his head. “So why did you leave her?”

“She and her family were tight. Being cut off messed her up. I met my dad’s family and realized what I missed out on. I didn’t want that to happen to her.” Andre thought about the cousins he’d never met. He made a mental note to email them.

“How come you never told me this?”

“I don’t know. It was so personal. I hadn’t even talked to Mama about my father before...” He didn’t need to complete the sentence. Looking back, he saw the bad decision for what it was.

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