Page 65 of Happy Endings

“I’ll hold you to that promise, but it’s not going to be a quickie. I want to kiss you all over until you beg me to fuck you,” he whispered into her ear.

She shuddered, and her heartbeat fluttered. Now, that was a very tempting promise.

“You said we had to be somewhere in ten minutes?” Andre stepped out of the doorway and locked the door. He tapped on his phone. “Told Keisha I’d be back in a couple of hours. Didn’t want her to worry.”

“I wish my siblings and I were as close as the two of you. They’re so much older than me.” Not to mention they were stereotypical Asian overachievers while she was just average. Obviously, mediocre Asians existed, but no one liked to talk about it.

“Keisha’s the only family I have left.” He shrugged. “I have to take care of my little sister.”

“You’ve been so strong through everything. Keisha worries about you.” Trixie fought the urge to grab his hand as they walked down the street. She wasn’t ready to announce their relationship to the public.

“I had to do what needed to be done.” Andre’s jaw tightened. “Tell her I’m fine and stop worrying about me.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to talk about it.” Trixie sighed. He seemed more closed off today than the last time they were together.

“Sorry.” Andre stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “Mama’s cancer grew too fast for me to think about how hard things were. She didn’t want to close Mama Hazel’s so I ran it as best I could in between her doctor appointments and treatment sessions.”

“I know you prefer to take action instead of talking, but it’s okay to talk about your feelings. I’m a good listener.” Trixie avoided hiseyes and checked the directions on her phone. She hadn’t told him where they were going, and he didn’t ask. If she told him, he might not agree to come along.

Trixie stole a glance at Andre. His eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Our entire neighborhood—we’re like family. Mrs. Harris watched me and Keisha while my mom worked several jobs in order to make ends meet,” he continued. He pointed at some of the shuttered stores. “As you can see, things are lean in our neighborhood. Many people depend on our weekly hot meals. I refuse to let them down.”

“Monday-night dinners mean a lot to you.” Trixie recalled how Keisha’s eyes lit up every time she talked about the free dinners at Mama Hazel’s.

“Even when Mama was sick, she thought of others. She started Monday-night dinners to pay back our neighbors, who helped a single mother of two get on her feet in a new town. No matter how tough things get for the restaurant, I will do everything in my power to make sure Mama Hazel’s survives. It’s part of my mother’s legacy.”

“I wish I could have met her.”

“I think you two would have gotten along.” He grabbed her hand.

“You think so?” She squeezed his hand.

“She would have liked your drive and passion for helping others.” Andre sounded far off, distracted. His eyes darted between the closed stores as if remembering them when they were thriving.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how his other hand had clenched into a fist. He was determined. New Orleans Andre had been quiet and serious—like he was searching for something. Now she knew he’d been searching for his dad’s family and, byextension, himself. He returned to DC and had to take on responsibilities no one his age should’ve.

He was still serious at times, but now he had more playful moments—at least with Trixie. In the last couple of weeks, he’d rediscovered joy in cooking and was breathing new life into Mama Hazel’s.

“Keisha told me word is spreading about your lunch buffet,” she replied softy. “You’ll keep Mama Hazel’s going.”

“I still don’t like that we’re closed three days of the week instead of one,” he said, shaking his head. His fist unclenched, and he ran his hand over his head. “It’s going to take a lot more customers before we can reopen on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

“I’m so sorry, Andre.”

She turned to him so she could—what, hug him? It was getting harder to separate how much she cared about him and her desire to keep things business only between them. He looked straight ahead, avoiding her eyes.

“How’s your dad doing?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Fine, I guess.” She shrugged. “He’s driving Mom crazy about his new doctor-recommended diet. She says he hates brown rice. Prefers the white jasmine rice he grew up eating.”

“If I served brown rice at family dinner, everyone would throw their cornbread at me.” He chuckled. “So he’s still not talking to you?”

“Is it sad to say that I’ve gotten used to it? I mean, I can’t ignore the Viet-parent guilt, but at least it’s predictable.” She laughed, but the sound was hollow to her ears. Every time she called home, she hoped he would answer, but only her mom picked up the phone.

“Don’t give up on them. They might surprise you.”

“I hope so.” Trixie sighed.

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