Chapter 21
Ruben
“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom!” I was already dressed and ready to leave for work when I called my parents.
“Happy Thanksgiving! How nice of you to call! I thought we wouldn’t hear from you for the next few days.”
“I’m on my way out, Mom, but I have a few minutes.”
“Always busy. Now you’re not only on the same continent as us, but practically around the corner, and yet we don’t see each other. It’s a shame.”
I struggled to suppress a sigh. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Don’t be,” she interrupted me. “I wasn’t referring to you or your work. We checked your hotel’s website and the other hotels in the area. It’s expensive, and since you have to work anyway, we thought . . . you understand?”
My guilty conscience immediately gnawed at me again. As often when it came to my life and my work. My parents’ understanding often didn’t make it any better. On the contrary. The more explanations they found for why we couldn’t see each other, the worse I felt.
“Of course I understand, Mom. It’s only one day that we can make up for. I’ll come by as soon as the season comes to an end and I have a few real days off in a row. Save your money. And when I’m home, I’ll take you out.”
“Nonsense, Ruben. Keep your money. You work hard for it. We’ll be happy to see you next time, no matter where you end up.”
Now I sighed audibly. What I wanted to discuss with my parents wasn’t made any easier by the next topic I brought up. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
Sometimes I felt like I was still ten years old.
“Maybe we’ll see each other more often in the near future. I’ll probably stay nearby for now.”
“Near where?” my mother wanted to know immediately. A legitimate question.
“Near Ocean View.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t interpret the sound my mother made. Joy, surprise, disappointment, a mix of everything?
“The year off is good for me. And I’m learning what I want to do with my education.”
“And what would that be?” She still sounded skeptical.
“I want to be my own boss. I also want to produce high-quality food, but not at the price of the stress of a Michelin-star kitchen.” I closed my eyes and swallowed.
For years, I had talked about nothing else but wanting to work and learn in a Michelin-star kitchen that I could earn at least one star myself later on.
“I know this must sound crazy to you. All my dreams. My studies. All the money. Everything you sacrificed for me. The time spent on junior cooking competitions, all the speeches I gave you, the . . . ”
“Ruben!” my mother interrupted me.
I had worked myself into complete rage.
“Honey, we’re proud of you, whatever you do. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision for yourself, whatever you decide to do.”
“You’re not disappointed?” I stared ahead at a loss.
“Why would we be disappointed?” my mom asked.
I shook my head helplessly. “You’re great parents. You’ve supported every one of my plans. I thought that’s what you wanted for me.”
“Oh, Ruben.” Now it was my mother who was silent.
“You know, of course we support you. But above all, we were careful not to say anything that would make you doubt yourself. I realize that you are grateful to us. And I sometimes worry that you feel guilty about following your dreams because your father and I are still stuck in Ocean View.”
Wow. That summed it up nicely.
“Anyway,” she continued, “we didn’t want to influence you.
Of course, we’d love to have you close to us, but not at the cost of you giving up your dream.
If your goal is to live in Paris, we support that.
If you want to come home, we’ll be the first to help you move.
” There was still some lingering unease in her voice.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m not reaching my full potential. If I worked in a bigger kitchen, I could pay off my student loan faster.”
“But Ruben, did we give you the impression that this is what matters most to us? Your potential is more than just making money. You’re a wonderful, caring person who has turned his passion into a career.
Whether that’s in a soup kitchen or a hotel in New York, it doesn’t determine whether you’re making the most of your life.
Only you can decide that. Only you know where you belong. ”
I chewed on my lower lip. Slowly, a weight lifted from my shoulders, and I was able to breathe much more freely. “Wow, Mom. I think I needed to hear that!”
“Of course. Call me more often, and I’ll be happy to share all my wisdom with you.”
Relieved, I laughed. “How’s Dad, by the way?”
“Pfft,” she made a dismissive sound. “Unfortunately, you can’t talk to him on the phone right now. Football . . . that man.”
“It’s okay. We’ll see each other soon, anyway.”
She sighed. “How are you otherwise? Are you going to Ocean View because of us, or for old friends, or is there someone else?”
“Mom!” I snorted indignantly. “I’ve thought long and hard about this decision. I’m not basing it on a man.” Not just any man. If the two coincided, I certainly wouldn’t resist.
As if she hadn’t heard a word I said, she continued. “Is there someone?”
“Mom!” I groaned impatiently.
“All right,” she conceded. “I want to say that I’d be happy for you.
You’ve been under pressure for years. And I admire that.
Your ambition. And if that’s what you want, if you prefer a life without someone by your side, I’m happy for you too.
But sometimes I wonder if this loneliness is a free choice. ”
“I’m not alone, Mom. Never. I have plenty of people around me, colleagues and friends, and you.
” I chewed my lip again. I didn’t want to share Shane with others yet.
As soon as we were in Ocean View, I would introduce him to them.
Until then, I wanted to enjoy our newfound relationship with Shane’s family, who would be here in a week. This time, I refrained from sighing.
“I want you to be happy, Ruben. No matter where that is or with whom. Or without whom. You know what I mean.”
I grinned again. “I am, Mom. Very happy. More than I’ve been in a long time.”
I could hear her beaming through the phone. “Then I’ll shut up now and wait until you want to tell us where all your happiness comes from.”
“Thanks, Mom. Maybe I’ll tell you sooner than I think.”
“I’ll be happy whenever that is.”
Until then, I would have to take care of Shane’s parents in my mind.