Sweet Success USA
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I’d like to say that I was the first one to recognize the truth about my family’s restaurant, but in reality, it was more a matter of someone else having recognized it for me. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen the signs of my father’s mental decline and my mother’s need to protect him from it.
That didn’t mean that their problems were gone or that they wouldn’t be back, but at least for now, I had the time to devote to them.
As I drove through the streets of New York City, I looked out my window at the bright lights of the city and tried to clear my mind. It was a good thing that I’d learned how to relax while driving when I lived with my parents. The city had never been a place where I could escape from my problems. Even on the weekends, I always felt like I should be working rather than having fun.
I pulled into the parking lot of our restaurant and parked next to my car. Then I got out of the car and walked into the front door. It was after nine o’clock at night and I was pretty sure that the staff would have already closed up for the evening.
There weren’t any customers around and it was dark inside. I knew that I was probably the only one there who had stayed late on a weekday, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be alone for long.
The first thing I saw was my father sitting at his usual table. He was slumped over in his chair with his head resting on the table. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he might be asleep. I couldn’t see much of his face because the back of his head blocked the view, but I could tell that he was wearing his trademark black suit and tie.
I knew that the suit was a symbol of the restaurant, but I still didn’t understand why it was so important to him.
I walked over to his table and said, “Dad?”
He didn’t move or answer me.
“Dad, you’re scaring me.”
Still no response.
“You know that I’m your son, right? You can talk to me.”
He sat up and looked at me with his bright blue eyes. I felt like I was being stared down by a lion in the zoo.
“Is there something wrong with me?” he asked.
I looked at him and realized that he was looking at me as if I were a stranger. That wasn’t surprising since I hadn’t seen him in months. Still, it was strange to be treated that way by someone who had raised me.
“No, Dad, everything is fine. I just wanted to say hi and make sure you’re okay.”
My father’s brow furrowed as he took a moment to process what I’d said. Then he looked at me with concern and said, “What did you do to me?”
It was such an odd question that I was momentarily confused. I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but he cut me off before I could get the words out.
“You’ve been gone for a while, so I don’t know if I’m imagining things, but I swear that you’ve changed. I know that I look older, but you’re not the same person. I think you’ve been living with me too long. Maybe you should go live somewhere else. Find yourself some friends and do something different.”
I looked at him and saw that he was serious. This wasn’t the father I knew. The one who’d taught me how to cook, take care of the restaurant, and be responsible for myself. This was someone else entirely. I also realized that it was pointless to argue with him because he wasn’t going to listen.
“I’ve been working here as a chef since I was sixteen,” I said. “I love this place. It’s like a second home to me. If you’re upset about something, then you need to talk to me.”
I didn’t see any point in telling him that I’d given up on trying to save my parents from themselves. It wasn’t a subject that he would understand, so I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to worry about.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about opening a new restaurant,” I said. “Maybe something bigger and better than Sweet Success. You should come with me. We can make it together.”
My father gave me a strange look and shook his head. “Don’t you think I’ve done enough? You’ve already made me a success. There’s no need for me to have another restaurant. I don’t want to be a part of your life anymore. Let me go.”
He stood up and walked away from the table. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner, then I turned to the back of the room and saw that my mother was sitting at her usual booth. She was slumped over in her chair and had her eyes closed. I wondered if she was sleeping or if she was just too exhausted to move.
The hostess came out and told me that there were two empty booths available, so I walked to the closest one and sat down.
I stared at my mother for a few minutes, but she didn’t wake up. Then I looked at my father and thought about what I could do to help him. I knew that I couldn’t let him go, not without trying to talk to him again. I felt like I had to get him to change his mind.
I looked around the restaurant, but there was nothing that I could do to help. I could only wait until my father decided to come back, so I pulled out my phone and started texting.
What’s going on? I thought you were leaving. Why are you still here?
There was no response from my father. I kept texting and sending messages until my fingers started to hurt, but still, there was no reply. I decided to try calling him, but after three rings he picked up.
“Hello?” he answered.
I took a deep breath and said, “Dad, I’m sorry if I upset you. I know that you’re unhappy, but I won’t give up on us. I’ve been trying to get you to come live with me for months now, but you won’t listen. I don’t want you to be alone. You can have this place to yourself, but I’m not letting you go. I’ll always love you.”
I felt bad for talking to him as if he were a stranger, but it was the only way I could think of to get through to him. It was also a conversation that I wanted to have face-to-face, so I looked around for a waiter.
“Excuse me,” I said to the hostess. “Do you know where my father is? I need to talk to him.”
The hostess gave me a strange look, but then she looked at her watch and said, “He should be right back. He went to the men’s room.”
I thanked her and waited. A few minutes later, my father walked back into the restaurant and approached me. I stood up and held out my hand to shake his.
“I’m sorry if I was rude to you earlier,” he said. “I was just tired and didn’t know what else to do.”
I smiled and told him that it was okay. We walked to our booth and he sat down in the chair opposite me.
“Are you ready to talk?” I asked. “We can’t go on like this.”
My father nodded. “Yeah, I guess we can’t. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately. I realized that I can’t be here anymore. This isn’t my life. It’s yours.”
I smiled and told him that I was happy to hear that. I told him that I loved him and then we talked for a while about all the good times we’d had together. We both agreed that it was time for a change.
When the waiter came back with our food, I asked him to bring a pitcher of water for us to share. He poured us each a glass and then left.
“I’m glad you’re still here,” I said. “I knew you would come back to me.”
My father smiled and sipped from his glass. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately. I’ve been feeling trapped by all the memories.”
I put my hand on top of his and said, “You don’t have to be trapped anymore. We can make this work. You’ll never have to worry about money again. I’ve got enough for both of us. All you need to do is live with me and help me run the restaurant.”
“No,” he said. “I can’t do that. I want to get away from all the memories. I want to start over. I think I should move to Florida. I know it’s a little far, but I’ve always wanted to retire there. It’s warm and it’s beautiful.”
I stared at him and thought about the possibility of him moving away. I felt like I had to stop him before he took my whole life with him.
“Florida,” I said. “That’s too far. There are plenty of other places around here where you could live. You’re not going anywhere.”
My father shook his head. “You can’t stop me. I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t care what you say.”
“Dad, please listen to me,” I begged. “You don’t have to leave. We can talk about this. Don’t you understand? This is your life too. We’re in this together.”
He looked down at his plate and pushed his food around with his fork. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry. I tried, but I can’t go on like this.”
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll find another solution. Just stay here tonight and we’ll talk about it some more tomorrow.”
My father sighed. “I don’t want to argue anymore. I’ve decided. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I said. “Do whatever you want. Just know that I love you.”
My father smiled. “I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”
The End