The Devil Behind Me(55)

“I know you might be angry with me for pushing this on you, but I want you to live another life,” I said ruefully.

“I'm not mad. I know why you pushed and why you worked as hard as you did for me. I just wish I could help you, too. Addie, you took care of me all this time. Without you, I would have never dreamed of this day. I'm upset I could never make it easier on you. I know I'm a brat,” she said.

“You just figured that out now? Now that you’re leaving?” I laughed.

“I love you, Addie. You gave up so much and have done a lot for Dad and me. I promise I’ll work hard and get you out of that diner. Okay?” She smiled, on the verge of tears.

“Don’t think of Dad or me, not in that way anyways. Think about us as your family, not people you need to save. Daddy and I are adults, now it’s your turn.” I pushed back the tears that begged to come out.

Dad slowly made his way to us. I stepped back wanting to give them their privacy.

“I love you, Daddy,” Sofia said as she sobbed and hugged him.

“I love you, too.” He kissed her on her forehead. “Here take this,” he said holding out his hand. It was our mother’s cross that he had given her. My mother wouldn’t go a day without wearing it. It was on a long gold chain that always hung loosely around her neck.

Sofia cried as she took it and tried to put it on, but her hand shook too much. Dad smiled and took it from her placing it around her neck. My father cried and smiled. “I'm proud of you. Now go off and be good. Drive safely and call us the moment you get there,” he pointed at her.

“Okay, Daddy,” she promised as she wiped her tears.

I moved up, took Sofia into my arms, and held her tightly. “I love you, kiddo. Be safe and know, no matter what, I'm here for you always.” I kissed her cheek and pulled away. She nodded and bit hard on her lips; it was always her little nervous tick. She slid into the driver seat and drove off.

Dad and I stood watching her leave. Once she was over the hill, she was gone. We both stayed there as an empty void was felt between us. It was always the three of us and now there was only two of us left.

“I’ll head down to the diner first,” I said as I walked toward the house.

“We’ll go together,” he said.





THE DISCUSSION


This day was one of the worst my father and I ever had. The new restaurant across the street had a line up. I watched as people would go in and out of the store while we sat here doing nothing. With Sofia gone, I knew it was time to speak with my father about the future of the store. It really didn’t matter what he said, because with the money we were making now the store would go bankrupt within a few months. I wanted him to make the decision on his own and save himself his pride.

“Daddy,” I started. The nerves in my belly getting the better of me, I was afraid of his reaction. I knew this diner meant everything to him.

“Addie, you’ll need to call the supplier, the meat he sent us is not good.” He walked over to the other fridge and looked inside.

“Daddy,” I said again more forcefully.

“Tell the vegetable guy to stop jerking us around with our orders. I know he forgot to get us that extra box of salad.” He closed the door of the fridge and walked away from me.

“Daddy, stop. I want to talk to you,” I insisted.

“I know, Addie, I know.” He stopped and kept his back to me.

“Dad, you know the diner isn’t doing well,” I hesitated.

“I know, Addie, but with Sofia gone we can now focus our attentions here,” he said still not looking at me.

“Dad, you can’t be serious? There’s no more money to be had. There is not one customer coming in here anymore. Daddy, I think…it’s done,” I said quietly.

“Only I say when it’s done and it’s not done!” he said loudly.

“Dad, look at the numbers.” I ran and took out our bills, all of which had overdue stamped in red all over them. “We aren’t making any money,” I said ruefully.

“Are you blaming me?” He turned around and yelled at me.

“No, Daddy. I'm not blaming anyone,” I lied. I did blame someone. I blamed myself completely.

“I'm not giving up my diner, Addie, not for you or for anyone,” he hissed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked surprised at his tone.

“I knew you never wanted to be here. I saw it. You hate the diner, that’s why you want to close it,” he shouted.

“Why are you saying that?” I cried. “Daddy, I worked every day for over ten years. I even got a second job just to pay the rent.”

“Admit it, Addie. Say it,” he cried out.