43. Derrick
43
DERRICK
T he tangy smell of pastrami filled my nostrils as I cut strips with the meat slicer. The rhythmic whirl of the blade echoed through the bustling deli, matching the pounding in my head.
"Hey!" A customer's voice cut through the din. "I asked for thin slices. That's too thick."
I looked up, ready to snap back, when Tina swooped in, all efficiency and damage control.
"So sorry about that, sir. Why don't you grab a freshly made cannoli on us and let me fix that for you right away," she said, effortlessly charming the grumpy man.
As soon as the customer was out of earshot, Tina turned to me, her eyes narrowing.
"Derrick, what's wrong with you? That's the third complaint in an hour."
I shrugged. "Just a bad day."
"Well, take your bad day to the back before we lose all our customers," she hissed, jerking her thumb towards the kitchen. "You're not helping Dad by hurting business."
Grudgingly, I retreated to the sanctuary of the prep area. The industrial-sized fridge hummed in the background as I methodically chopped vegetables for tomorrow's soups. The repetitive task should have been soothing, but my mind kept drifting to Rachel. Her smile. Her laugh. The hurt in her eyes when I rejected her.
"Alright, Rickie. Spill it."
I jumped, nearly slicing his finger. I knew my sisters meant business when they used my childhood nickname. Which I hated. Which was why they did it.
Tina leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly knowing way of hers.
"What?" I muttered, focusing intently on chopping a large carrot.
"Don't 'what' me. You've been moping around all week. It's about Rachel, isn't it?"
The knife slipped, clattering against the metal countertop. "There's nothing to tell."
"Bullshit," Tina said, grabbing a stool and perching on it. "Come on, Derrick. Valeria and Maria have told me everything. I know you're desperately in love with her."
I sighed, setting down the knife and leaning heavily against the counter. "I told her it's over. Whatever it was."
"What happened?"
"We're in different places. Want different things. Totally different people. A story as old as time."
Tina tugged at the hair tie holding her mass of brown curls in a bun, and her hair tumbled around her shoulders. The gloves were off when the hair came down. "Explain." She crossed her arms.
I ran a hand over my beard, frustrated. "I'm old enough to be her dad."
"If you had her at like nineteen. From the couple of encounters I've had with her and what the sisters say, Rachel is a very confident and secure woman who knows what she wants." Tina shook her head. "Besides, this isn't about that. You're scared."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand. "Let me guess. You slept together, then you freaked out?"
Heat crept up my neck. "I can't give her what she wants. I'm rigid and calculated. She's free-spirited and spontaneous."
Tina groaned. "You idiot. What do you think free spirits want? A partner who balances them. What a mess it would be if you were both eccentric and impulsive. Trust me, I know."
Out of all my sisters, Tina was the most like Rachel, unconventional and proud as hell about it. She'd sworn off the conventions of marriage, but Tina was in love with falling in love. The problem was, once she got her man, she ran the other way.
"So you sleep with her when you're in a desperate place—Valeria told me she saw you in the chapel, I'm not even gonna touch that—and then you toss her aside like yesterday's salami? She probably feels used and confused as hell."
"It's not like that," I protested weakly, but then admitted, "Oh God. I did that. I'm a fucking prick."
"Yes, you are."
"And she told me she loved me."
My sister's jaw dropped. "You slept with her, and she said she loves you, and then you dumped her?"
"It was in the middle of…you know…so I'm not sure it counts." I busied myself with placing the chopped vegetables in their containers, avoiding Tina's accusatory stare.
"There's more, isn't there?" she prodded.
I shoved the containers in the fridge and slammed the door shut. "We had a fight at the office. She said she's all in. That she wants me and only me."
"And you still rejected her? She told you what you wanted to hear. Just because someone's impulsive doesn't mean they're a commitment-phobe like me."
"She's nineteen years younger than me, Tina!"
Tina rolled her eyes so hard I was worried they might get stuck. "Who cares? Age is just a number."
"I'm forty-five! I want a family."
"How many times have you been in love, D?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" I snapped.
"Answer the damn question."
"Twice. Okay? You know that. Evette and Camilla."
"Evette was when you were twenty and Camilla was ten years ago. If you throw this one away, you may be well into your fifties before you meet someone else. Then you'll be old, childless, and loveless. Or you can get your head out of your ass and choose love now."
"This is real life, not a fairy tale."
"Yeah, and in real life you're miserable without Rachel," Tina retorted. "I've never seen you like this over anyone before."
I turned away, pretending to organize the spices, because her argument was starting to penetrate. "It doesn't matter. I told her it would never work. That she didn't know what she wanted."
"How did Rachel respond to that?"
I closed my eyes, remembering the fire in Rachel's gaze as she stood toe-to-toe with me. "That if I don't respect her enough to believe she knows what she wants, then she wouldn't respect herself for being with me."
Tina laughed. "I like her even more."
"Me too," I grunted.
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is that she thinks she wants this now, but she'll regret it." I slammed a jar of oregano down harder than I intended and it cracked. "She does everything by the seat of her pants. This is just another impulsive decision she hasn't thought through."
"Has it occurred to you," Tina said slowly, "that maybe you're the one who hasn't thought this through? That maybe you're so scared of doing the right thing that you're pushing away the love of your life?"
I froze, her words hitting me like a punch to the gut. "That's not what I did," I muttered.
Tina hopped off the stool and came to stand beside me. "Derrick, look at me."
Reluctantly, I met her gaze.
"You're my big brother, and I love you," she said softly. "But right now, you're being an idiot. A scared, stubborn idiot who's about to lose something amazing because you're doom scrolling through non-existent futures that only live in your mind.”
"It's not that simple," I protested.
"It is that simple," Tina insisted. "Do you love Rachel?"
"Yes, but?—"
"No buts. Does she make you happy?"
I nodded, unable to deny it.
"Then what are you doing here, sulking over vegetables? Go get the girl."
I shook his head. "It's too late, Tina."
Tina grumbled, frustration in her narrowed gaze.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, reading the message. My heart slammed in my chest, blood rushing behind my ears.
"What is it?" Tina asked, glancing at my phone. "Who's Eva?"
"Rachel's best friend. She says something happened to Rachel during her bout. That I need to come. That she's injured."
I was already rushing out the door, whipping off my apron.
"What's a bout?" Tina asked, chasing after me.
I ignored her, searching desperately for a cab, but there were none.
Tina slipped a key in my hand.
"Here. Take my bike. There's an extra helmet in the top box."
I didn't think. I shoved the helmet on, threw my leg over her black Yamaha, raised the kickstand, and pressed the start button, the engine rumbling to life.
"Thanks!" I shouted over my shoulder as I zipped down the street, praying, because if something horrible happened to Rachel...
I shook the thought from my head. She'll be fine , I told myself as I sped through the streets toward the rink.
She had to be.