Page 55 of Happy Endings

He took a swig of his drink. Trixie turned off the timer on her phone and set it facedown on the bar.

“I ran away to New Orleans because I didn’t want to take over Mama Hazel’s. I ran away from my duty to my mother. I thought she’d always be here, and we had years left.” He’d resisted changing his mom’s recipes after she died because she’d fought against people who loved her in order to open the restaurant. “I needed to find myself, so I started going by Andre instead of Tre. And I didn’t talk about my mom. Not even to you. I should have and I’m sorry.”

Trixie remained silent, but her hands were clenched into tightfists. He couldn’t tell if she was angry at him or what he’d revealed. She didn’t accept his apology nor did she refuse it.

“I saw how important yours was to you when I came to your family dinners. At your celebrations. Like the big backyard crawfish boil where I only understood half of everyone’s conversations.”

Her family had welcomed him with open arms but didn’t change who they were to make him feel more comfortable. When they were all together, a mixture of English and Vietnamese flew out of her family’s mouths. He’d only caught every third word. Even then, he understood the feelings and tones of the conversations. Ribbing jokes followed by raucous laughter. It was hard to miss the love between everyone.

“Then later, when your parents were so mad, it seemed like the right opportunity to set you free from me. I wanted you to have your family back.” With that, Andre’s shoulders felt lighter. He’d finally told her the truth. “I thought by leaving you the way I did, you wouldn’t try to find me. That without me, you’d have more space for your family.”

She sighed, unclenching her fists. Trixie stirred her drink with the tiny plastic cocktail stick before knocking the rest of it back. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and resigned.

“My parents seem to forget that they raised me to be American,” Trixie said. “So I could fit in and succeed.” There was a faraway look in her eyes. “It’s confusing to be the daughter of immigrants. Trying to figure out which part of me is more important. There’s no guidebook on which situation requires me to be more Vietnamese and which one needs me to be American.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” he said softly. He reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “It must have been hard.”

“I called him after he was released from the hospital. I thought after what happened, he’d talk to me.” Trixie shook her head.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“That part isn’t your fault. He’s mad because I rejected his dream for me and moved away. In his mind, when I gave up on pharmacy school, I gave up on them.”

“What about your mom?”

“Oh, she still calls me almost weekly. Supposedly it’s to tell me how she’s getting old and will die at any moment.” Trixie laughed. “But she’s really checking up on me. You know my parents don’t talk about their feelings.”

“They still love you.” Andre ran a finger around the rim of his empty glass. “I’d give anything to hear my mom’s voice again.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Andre.” She grabbed his free hand.

“No, it’s okay. I miss her every time I step into this place.” He gestured at the dining room. “It’s gotten easier over time, but...”

Trixie slid off her seat and wrapped her arms around him. He let himself relax into her hug as the clean, sweet scent of her damp hair filled his nose. After what felt like minutes, she let go and pulled herself back onto the barstool.

“As much as I’ve fought with my parents, I can’t imagine them not being around.”

“That’s why I left you, Trixie. I couldn’t bear to see you at odds with your parents. I thought if I left, you’d work things out with your dad. And Mama needed me. I’d shirked my duty long enough. It was time to come home and man up.”

“But—”

He held up his hand. “Let me finish. Please?”

She closed her mouth and nodded.

“I thought if I could give you a few months to work things out—after all, you’d sprung your career change on them suddenly—then I’d come back once the air was clear.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He barked with laughter.

“I can see that now.” Andre traced her knuckles with his fingers. “I wanted to text you, but the longer I waited, the harder it was. I shouldn’t have left you with a note. I deserve your hate.”

“I hated you so much then. Reina probably hated you even more.”

“The very next day Keisha called to tell me about Mama.” His voice caught and he closed his eyes. “That she had cancer and the doctors had found it too late. I couldn’t avoid coming home any longer. I took the next flight to DC. Once I got back, everything was a blur of doctor visits, working at Mama Hazel’s, and then she just— I failed her, Trixie.”

“Why would you say that?”

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