Page 86 of Can't Kiss the Chef

They both laugh knowing that when Byron’s been drinking he is a complete wildcard.

I take the first sip of my coffee and while I’m reveling in its bitter taste Jalen pulls out his wallet and hands his fiancé a hundred dollar bill.

My eyebrows raise.

“I bet you and Byron would get together before the end of the first semester. Jalen thought it would take until graduation.”

I close my eyes and shake my head. “You guys sure had a lot of faith in us?”

“We may not have gotten to see you two together that much, but from what we did see, I knew this wasn’t just a fling.”

“Sometimes opposites really do attract,” Jalen adds.

I’m not able to relish in my friends’ support of my relationship for long. My brain starts working out scenarios on how this breakfast with Byron’s parents is going to go.

“I hope this breakfast with his parents goes well.”

BYRON

Like the true New Yorker I am, I normally pop in a pair of headphones and ignore the brush of people trying to get to wherever they are going. Today I want to be present. I just won back the only girl I’ve ever truly loved. I want to remember everything about today. The weather, the sounds, how many times I get yelled at to move out of the way. Not even this breakfast with my parents can bring me down.

The fifteen minute walk in the cool autumn air doesn’t feel long enough when I get to the restaurant’s door. It’s the same sinking feeling I got when I realized it was my dad cuddled on the couch with my mom.

I made sure I got here ten minutes early giving myself time to think without the distractions of an apartment filled with all of my best friends. I need time to figure out what I want to say. I tap my finger on the podium waiting for the hostess. That’s when I see them.

Their backs are facing me. I let a low breath and slide into the booth like this is an every week occurrence.

As I settle into the cloth clad seat I notice Mom’s tight smile. The dark circles under her eyes age her. Dad’s expression is harder to read.

He looks different then I remember him. His hair is thinning. The blue eyes he passed down to me are framed by wrinkles. They’re surrounded by similar dark circles to Mom’s. He looks smaller, more frail than the athletic man that would pop in and out of my childhood.

I take my hat off and run my fingers through my hair a couple of times before flipping it backwards. I sit up straighter trying to appear more confident than I feel.

“Hey, honey. How was the party?” Mom’s cheery voice is a welcome distraction from my spirling thoughts.

For the first time since I sat down I have a genuine smile. “It was good. I was expecting to see you there.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt the little time you get with Jalen with drama. I’ve known we needed to have this talk for a while.”

“How did this happen?” I ask abruptly, picking up my glass of water before setting it back down. I don’t know if my stomach can handle something as simple as a sip of water at the moment.

My mom’s eyes shoot sideways.

“Arie, why don’t you tell the story.”

He looks visibly shaken at the fact that he has to talk to his only child. He sets his hands down on the table before taking a steadying breath.

“Well about five months ago I wasn’t feeling well and my doctor ordered more scans. He happened to send me to the hospital your mother was working at, even though I didn’t know it at the time.”

He pauses and my mom places a hand on top of his, a silent showing of solidarity.

“I couldn’t believe that Isla was the nurse in charge of running all my scans. Then when I came back to get the results a few days later she made sure she was there with me.”

“Why were you getting the scans done?” I feel like a large part of the story was just omitted.

“Um well Byron, I have cancer.”

My mouth drops. I look over to my mom for confirmation and her glassy eyes tell me all I need to know.

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