Page 9 of The Friend Zone
“Hey, Pop.”
“Hi, Grandpa!”
“Hey, there.” Omar Senior flashed an affectionate smile at his grandson and returned to mixing his drink. “You see how much food your mother’s cooking? I thought we were having twenty people over for dinner.” He shook his head.
Omar Bradford Senior used to play football when younger and maintained a trim physique. A little shorter than Omar and with a darker complexion, Senior, as everyone called him, had never been good enough to go pro, but his understanding of the game made him an excellent coach from the time Omar started Pee Wee football.
Omar dropped onto the sofa. “You know she enjoys cooking, and you don’t mind eating.”
“Got that right, but you’re taking food with you, or I’ll have to eat short ribs, macaroni and cheese, and tomato pie for the rest of the week.”
Omar chuckled.
“Drink?” his father asked.
“I’m fine for now. I’ll wait until dinner’s ready.”
“I’ll take a drink,” Prince piped up.
“You’re not ready for this yet. This is a grown up drink,” Senior said.
Prince poked out his bottom lip. “Can I go watch TV in grandma and grandpa’s room?” he asked Omar.
“Yes. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
Prince took off running.
“Your mini-me’s got speed on him. Might be an athlete like you.”
“He better. I keep telling him to stop running everywhere, but he don’t listen.”
“He’s like you were at that age. Might as well tell him to stop breathing.” His father settled into the recliner. “What’s the latest on Kitchen Love? You going to open on time?”
Kitchen Love was the name of a new concept Omar was working on. The farm-to-table restaurant was the first time in a long time he was so excited about a project. In addition to having a typical menu, it would address food insecurity in the community by providing meals free of charge to anyone who walked in off the street and couldn’t afford to pay for a meal on their own. The staff would include a mix of paid and volunteer positions, including bussers, waitstaff, and back-of-the-house positions.
“We’re almost ready to launch. Only a few more details need to be worked out with the investors, and I have a meeting this week to iron out those plans,” Omar replied.
“I’m really proud of you. You’re not only interested in making money, you want to make a difference in the world too.”
“I learned that from you and Ma.”
His father brushed away the comment. “Your mother mostly. You know she can’t turn down the opportunity to help a single person,” he said with a chuckle and shake of his head.
As Omar was about to agree with his father, his brother Cole walked into the room, and his presence seemed to dim the sun and turn the air gray.
“Omar,” Cole said by way of greeting.
“Cole.”
At thirty-eight, Cole’s caramel complexion matched Omar’s, but his eyes were brown, and he had a head full of low-cut hair. Both men were a couple inches over six feet, but Cole had a slighter build.
His brother sank onto the sectional. “Think I’m gonna stick around for another month or so. I might move here.”
Senior swung his head in Cole’s direction, an indication the announcement was new information.
“Really?” Omar said. “What brought that on?”
Shrugging, Cole said, “I like Atlanta. There’s plenty to do, and the weather is nice. Giving it some thought, that’s all.”
