my last order. Brad was busy talking to the dishwasher, a kid from the local high school I didn’t recognize.
“The Democrats want everyone to be on welfare and the Republicans want everyone to starve,” Brad explained to the hapless teenager, who looked confused by my uncle’s filibustering. “You have to decide which one you believe in more and then go with it.”
I’d barely spent any time with my uncle before reporting for my first shift, but one of the first things I’d noticed about him was he’d suddenly developed an interest in politics. When I was a kid, he was all about peace, love, and understanding. Now he was all about political shows and arguing simply for argument’s sake. As far as I could tell, most of what he said was complete and total nonsense. He couldn’t even pick a side to land on when it came to these arguments. He bagged on both sides.
“You should leave him alone,” I instructed Brad as I collected my plates. “He’s a teenager. He doesn’t want to hear your bitter old guy shtick. He’s still dreaming of getting out of this place.”
“Oh, I’m going to get out of this place,” the teenager intoned, his eyes lighting with excitement. “Two more years and then I’m out of here. I’m going to college at Central Michigan and then I’m going to find an actual city to live in.”
“One that has more than one stoplight and actually has a fast-food restaurant, right?” I asked, thinking back to the things that were important to me when I was his age.
He bobbed his head excitedly. “Exactly. I want a Taco Bell, people. Is that too much to ask?”
His enthusiasm made me smile — and then frown. I’d wanted a McDonald’s. Who doesn’t love those fries? I’d been so excited when I got to college and could eat fast food regularly. That lasted only a few weeks, though. Then I missed the food at the cafe. Of course, I wouldn’t admit that to anyone.
“Well, good luck.” I swooped out of the kitchen just as my uncle was explaining proper military strategy from the Republican point of view, and I delivered the food to a corner table in the cafe. The men waiting on their burgers started inhaling the food, as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks, and I left them to it. I saw Sarah trying to catch my attention and flashed her an apologetic smile before crossing over to my grandfather. He sat at the coffee counter, alone, reading his newspaper as he ate chili over a bed of onions — with a fork.
“How can you eat that?” I complained as I moved behind the counter and grabbed the pot of coffee to top off his mug. “I mean ... that’s like all-day heartburn right there. It’s gross.”
Grandpa glanced up from his newspaper and regarded me with unreadable eyes. In the years since I’d left, his hair had thinned some and grayed at the temples. His face had a few more lines. Other than that, he looked mostly the same.
He also acted the same.
“Do I comment on your meals?”
I shook my head. “No, but we haven’t had many meals together since I got back. I expect that to change because you comment on everything.”
He chuckled. “You haven’t been around for any of the family dinners,” he countered. “You even missed last night’s meal, which was a welcome home dinner for you, so that was a ballsy move. Your mother was mad, by the way.”
As far as I could tell, my mother was angry about everything these days — especially the fact that I was working in the family restaurant again. She couldn’t understand why I didn’t get rich off the one book that sold well, enough to live comfortably forever. When I explained that’s not the way it worked, her response was that I should’ve tried to sell a second book. I told her I did, but it didn’t sell. Her response? “Well, you should’ve tried harder.”
That was two weeks ago and we hadn’t spoken since. I’d made my move to Shadow Hills, taken over the apartment above the restaurant, and seen almost everybody in my family during the intervening days. There was still no sign of my mother. It was too much to hope she wouldn’t speak to me for the rest of her life. She would be back, there was no doubt about that.
“Isn’t my mother always ticked off?” I asked, grabbing a rag from the