Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LUKE
Even though I told my mom to sleep in, I still drive by the house before going into the diner. She’ll probably be cleaning or doing laundry. She has never been the kind of person who can relax in a crisis.
Standing by the front door, I wonder if I should knock or just walk in. I’ve always just walked in, but it’s been so long since I’ve been back, I don’t want to give her a heart attack. Making a fist, I bang on the door three times before taking a step back.
My mom opens the door immediately like she was waiting for someone. “Luke?” She seems surprised it’s me. “Why did you knock?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Why would I be scared if you walked into your own home?” Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to cut me in half with an invisible laser coming from her corneas. Stepping aside, she gestures for me to enter.
“I haven’t been here in a long time,” I tell her. “It almost doesn’t even feel like my home anymore.”
“Whose fault is that?” she asks harshly .
“Dad’s.”
Shaking her head, my mom walks down the hallway and leads the way into the family room. She sits down on the sofa before telling me, “It’s your dad’s fault that he hasn’t visited you in Chicago. It’s your fault that you haven’t come home.”
How can she see it that way? “Why would I visit someone who’s made it clear they don’t want to see me?” I give her a “talk your way out of that one” look.
My mom shakes her head with enough vigor to cause her graying bob to sway back and forth. “You’re two peas in a pod,” she says.
Excuse me? “I’m nothing like Dad,” I say while sitting on the La-Z-Boy recliner directly across from her.
My mom laughs mirthlessly. “That’s what your dad says. The truth is, you’re both so pig-headed and stubborn you can’t see your own culpability.”
“I’m not responsible for the rift between us,” I tell her. “All I did was follow my dreams, which if I recall correctly is what you and Dad taught me to do.”
“You could have told your dad when you started culinary school that you had no intention of coming back to Elk Lake to work with him.”
She’s not wrong about that. But instead of agreeing with her, I say, “I didn’t tell him because I didn’t know what I wanted to do yet.”
“Lucas Adam Phillips.”
The usage of my full name indicates the amount of trouble I’m in. “How could I have known?”
“You didn’t need culinary school to work with your dad in Elk Lake. You’d already learned everything you needed to know about running Pop’s. You clearly went because you didn’t want to be at Pop’s.”
“If you knew that,” I say, “How is it that Dad didn’t?”
She rolls her eyes like I’m too stupid to continue drawing breath. “Your father thought you would bring the benefits of your education home and give Pop’s customers more of a selection.”
“Then why didn’t he say that?” I never considered my dad was open to changing his restaurant. And even if I knew, I don’t think that knowledge would have made any difference. Yet, how can I know for sure if he never shared that information with me? At least if he’d said something, it would have opened the door for civilized conversation between us.
“See what I mean?” My mom is clearly exasperated. “Two peas in a pod. Your dad wants to retire at sixty-five, which is only two years from now.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Are you really as thick as you’re pretending to be?” she demands.
“If Dad wants to retire at sixty-five, then he should retire.” Once again, I don’t know how I figure in.
“Your dad has owned Pop’s for thirty years, Luke. You spent your whole childhood there. What do you think he planned to do with the place when he retired?”
“Sell it?”
“Are you serious?” My mom is getting extremely annoyed with me now.
“Why not? I mean, unless he wants to hire a general manager to run it for him. But why would he bother? He should just sell it and be done with it.”
“Your father has always wanted to leave Pop’s to his children. When Kelsey moved out to LA to work in publicity, Dad knew she didn’t have any interest. But then you went to culinary school, Luke. That told him loud and clear that you loved the food industry, making you the obvious choice to inherit Pop’s.”
“But I don’t want Pop’s,” I tell her honestly.
My mom shifts in her seat before grabbing a throw pillow off the couch. She flings it across the coffee table at me with force. “I know! And your dad knows!” In a quieter tone, she adds, “And it breaks his heart. ”
I guess I was too wrapped up in my own dreams to even consider that my dad wanted me to take over for him. I feel kind of stupid for not putting that together. But to be fair, he never said as much.
My mom watches me closely. She’s clearly wondering where she went wrong with me. “Luke, your dad’s childhood was nothing like yours. Nana and Grandpa doted on you kids. They always encouraged you, like they did me. You never knew your dad’s parents and there’s a reason for that.”
“Dad never wanted to talk about them, so I eventually took the hint and quit asking,” I tell her. “I’m not a mind reader, Mom.”
“No, honey, you’re not. But you are an adult. You’re grown up enough to know your parents don’t know everything. We’re not perfect. We’re just people with our own journeys doing the best we can.”
“And?”
“Maybe it’s time you talk to your dad and get to know about his childhood.”
I exhale loudly. “He doesn’t want to talk to me, Mom.”
“Don’t give him a chance not to, Luke. The man is in traction for Pete’s sake, he can’t exactly run away from you.”
“I can’t make him talk if he doesn’t want to.”
She grabs another pillow like she’s going to wing that one at me too. But instead of doing so, she holds it close to her chest. “It’s time for you to act like the adult, Luke. Treat your dad like you would a child. Show him that you aren’t the enemy. That’s the only way he’ll open up to you.”
The very thought causes the little hairs all over my body to stand at attention. I really don’t want to do what she’s asking of me. I already feel like I’ve let my dad down so badly that he’ll never forgive me. But before I can articulate my thoughts, my mom asks, “What do you have to lose?”
“The tiny shred of pride I have left?” I realize how melodramatic that sounds but I’m feeling a touch overemotional.
“You could have lost your dad when he fell off the roof, Luke. Ask yourself if your precious pride is worth risking your relationship.”
“I’m not the one risking it!” I practically yell. I immediately feel bad for raising my voice to her. It’s not like our feud is her doing and I know it’s taken a toll on her.
“You’re as much responsible as he is. And until one of you makes the first move, you will never find your way back to each other. And if you don’t, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”
“I hope you tell Dad that, too,” I challenge.
My mom stares at me quietly for so long I start to shift nervously in my seat. “You grew up with a great father, Luke. He was always there for you; he taught you how to do so many things. Not everyone is so lucky.”
“You’re talking about Dad’s parents?”
“I’m talking about what you had. You were given love and stability, and as such, it may fall to you to be the bigger man in this situation.”
“By forcing my company on a man while he’s stuck in a hospital bed?”
“I can’t think of a better place,” she says. “Help your dad understand how you feel. Help him to see your vision.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I want to know.
“Don’t take no for an answer, Luke.”
“You’re giving me too much credit, Mom. I can’t move a mountain all by myself.”
“How do you know?” she demands. “Have you ever tried?”
Standing up, I turn around to leave, but I suddenly stop when she asks, “Do you love your dad, Luke?”
What kind of question is that? “Of course, I do.”
“Then accept him for who he is and help him find a way to do the same with you.”
For the life of me, I can’t see this working. My dad is going to throw a fit if I go and visit him and refuse to leave when he gets angry with me. But I know my mom is right. If something happens to him before we can fix things between us, I will mourn his loss forever.
I’m going to need to think long and hard about the best way to reach him. I’ve done all I can do today, but tomorrow I vow to try again. Tomorrow, I will start to find a way to penetrate his armor and help him to see how much I love and respect him. But for now, I need a break from everything, and the best way for me to center myself is to cook.
Turning back toward my mom, I tell her, “I’ll do my best. But I can’t make any promises.”