Page 154 of All We Need

With one final hug, he leaves.

I toy with the sharp corner of the envelope, unsure ifI’mstrong enough to read my dad’s words.

My hesitation lasts all of five seconds beforeI’mtearing through the paper and unfolding the letter.

Booth,

Third born and first to show me you don’t have to take life so seriously.

Your outlook on life and ability to read people have always astounded me.Youalways know if someone needs to laugh or a shoulder to lean on.Asyou get older,Ihope you never lose that.

AsI’mwriting this, you’ve just graduated college, top of your class, and you’re on the way to being a culinary genius.Whenyou told me you wanted to become a chef,Iknew in years to comeI’dbe bragging to my friends about my hotshot son and the fancy restaurant he creates masterpieces in.

I’m so excited to see you spread your wings.You’rea brilliant young man and the same will be said about your career.

If onlyIpossessed the same loyalty you have whenIwas your age.Youmight be the goofball always cracking jokes, but you’re wise beyond your years.I’vewatched you grow from a boy to a man.Ithits me with a sense of pride so powerful every timeIwalk intoOurPlace’skitchen to find you working hard behind that pass, butIknow greatness has its limits and you haven’t met yours yet.

You’re not made for greatness, youaregreatness.Andyou are one of my greatest gifts.Whetherit’s within the walls ofOurPlaceor thousands of miles away,Iwill never stop cheering you on.Ifyou decide that this career isn’t what you want anymore,Idon’t care.Ijust hope you never lose sight of what’s important.

Your happiness.

Raising you has brought me endless amounts of happiness andI’mso lucky to call you my son.

Don’t forget to reserve a table for your old man.

With allmy love,

Dad

A broken, shaky breath leaves me.Idrop the letter, not wanting the steady flow of tears to smudge the inked words.Mychest heaves, feeling like it’s about to cave in on itself.

It’s not dated, but if it was written shortly after my graduation, he passed away a few weeks later.RightafterIcame to work at the restaurant full time.

I sweep my hair back off my forehead and stare up at the ceiling.

Graham was right.Whilemy dad never once used this word when he spoke to any of his kids, he’d be disappointed if he saw me now.

My fears are of my own creation.

The overwhelming pressureI’vefelt over the years was created by me.Itfestered until it was easier to use it as an excuse than to face it head-on.

I’m tired of burying my head in the sand because it’s the safest option.Butthere’s just one thing holding me back.

I trust my dad’s words.TrustGraham.Butthe fear of betraying my family still lingers.

There’s a woman out there who inexplicably handed herself over to me, andIwasn’t worthy.ButIwill be.I’llprove to herIam.ButIcan’t do that until my dreams are reincarnated and my fears a thing of the past.

ThenI’llgive her my everything.

I just hope she accepts me.

Huffing under my breath,Istomp back and forth across the parquet flooring of the restaurant. “SixteenhoursIhad to wait for this meeting and they’re late.”

My mom,George,Graham,Quinn,Florence, andDexall share a look.

“What?”

Silence.

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