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“Ah,” Zander says, expression turning sour. “I forgot about that. They’re still going at it? Isn’t it like, unsafe for your hearts at your age, Edgar?”
“You want me to show you how much my heart can handle, asshole?” Edgar asks, puffing his chest out.
“Are you threatening to fuck me until your heart gives out?” Zander laughs. “That’s a hard pass, old man.”
“I’m threatening to knead your face like it’s a ball of dough, you pretty prick.”
“First he threatens to fuck me, then he’s talking about how pretty my prick is,” Zander says. He smiles. “I kinda miss not having an antagonistic old geezer in the restaurant. My new place is full of competent people. Boring as hell.”
“How is Layla?” I ask softly.
He hesitates a split second, then nods quickly. “Good. She’s good. She keeps telling me I can get back to my life and how she doesn’t need me sticking around to baby her. I can see how hard it has been for her to adjust, though. She’s still learning her way around a new world without her sight, and I’m not about to leave her alone with that. Not yet, anyway,” he says suddenly, as if he doesn’t want the topic to linger on his sister. “I heard about that new lamb pie you guys put on the menu. I hate pies. So I want you to make that for me. If you don’t turn me into a pie believer, you’ve all failed miserably.” Zander winks, then walks back out toward the dining room.
“Lamb pie it is,” Nolan says. “Let’s do this.”
I smile. Something in my heart swells. The feeling of tackling challenges in the kitchen with Nolan is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It makes me realize what was missing–how I’d always dreamed of doing something meaningful with my life, but never thought about who I could share it with. It wouldn’t be the same to go home and try to explain this feeling to someone who wasn’t here. Words can’t capture it.
But I don’t have to try to explain it, because Nolan meets my eyes as he pulls the lamb from a refrigerated drawer. He smiles slightly, nods, and then we get to work.
Grams swirls her wine, then clinks the glass with Edgar’s. “Six months, huh?” she says, watching me and Nolan from across the dining table in her house. “Pretty long time to go without one of you fucking things up. I reckon the big screw up is just around the corner.”
“Definitely,” Edgar agrees. “Nolan’s gonna trip and fall dick-first into some hot young woman’s pussy. He’ll claim it was an accident, of course. Happens all the time, you know. They even got a word for it where I come from. I think they called it ‘the ol’ pink muffin stuffin but it was nothin’.”
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
Nolan puts a protective arm around me. “First of all, no. I’m not ever going to cheat on Mia or let things get screwed up. Second of all, I think your memory might be going on you. There’s no way you didn’t just make that shit up on the spot.”
“He’s right,” Grams says, nodding gravely. “Except, where I come from, we used to just say he was testing the waters, but forgot he couldn’t swim.”
Edgar barks a laugh. I’m rolling my eyes but laughing along with them. The two of them are always like this. We both know better than to take anything they say even halfway seriously.
“You miss the hockey yet?” Edgar asks. “I mean, what kind of dumbass trades being a superstar for sweating in a fuckin’ kitchen where his girl gets to boss him around?”
“I don’t boss him around,” I say.
“I don’t miss it,” Nolan says. He stares down at his beer, nodding after a few seconds as if he was testing the truth of his own statement and realizing it passed the test. “That was a chapter of my life and it was time for it to close. I can look back on what I did and feel happy, but I don’t want to go back to those days, either. I’m happy where I am. Happy with who I’m with,” he adds, squeezing my hand.”
“How fuckin’ sweet,” Edgar says.
“Look at that damn love sparkle,” Grams says, smiling. “Brighter than Edgar’s bald spot at midday. I swear it.”
I feel myself blushing. “Oh come on. It’s not that bright.”
Edgar reaches up and touches his head with a look of mild confusion on his face. “I got a bald spot? When was yous all goin’ to fuckin’ tell me?”
42
EPILOGUE - NOLAN
“Feels weird,” I say, having to raise my voice over the sound of the crowd. It’s a packed rink and the guys are fighting on the ice for another shot at the playoffs. “Being on this side of things. I’m still not used to it.”
“Not having regrets, are you?” Mia asks.
“Nah,” I say. I put my arm around her, pulling her in tight. Regret? She has no idea how good this has all felt if she’s even joking about it. I haven’t felt this right at any point in my life. “The only thing I regret is not getting to be with you sooner.”
She smiles and leans her head into me.
Every day since I announced my retirement has just seemed to be better than the last. The restaurant has been explosively successful. We’re getting requests every month for TV shows and documentary filmmakers to come do feature pieces on our staff, the food, or even the town of Frosty Harbor. Star chefs from around the country have been trying to poach the staff, but so far, nobody is leaving. We briefly talked about expanding to more cities, but eventually decided we don’t want to change a thing. One location in Frosty Harbor means we get to keep all our focus right where it belongs.
