“If you could have dinner with any three people, dead or alive, who would they be?”
I pause, considering the question. “Taylor Swift, Suni Lee, and,” I pause, because now this is turning into a loaded question that makes me say, “definitely, my dad.”
It just would feel weird to not say him, when I would give anything to see him one more time, even if it’s for a mere fiveminutes. I must have been so lost in my thoughts that my smile drains from my face.
“Everything okay?”
Tyler’s voice breaks me out of my trance. I take a quiet breath, attempting to shake off the sudden heaviness.
“Yeah, I just got lost in the memories. It happens.”
Tyler nods, understanding. “Tell me.”
I contemplate it for a bit. Tyler hasn’t given me any reason to doubt his trustworthiness. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and keep my eyes on making egg rolls. “He died when I was fifteen,” I finally share, deciding to open up a bit.
Tyler freezes and spins his chair to face me with worried eyes. “Serena, I’m sorry.”
I offer a nervous smile. “He, um, passed away in a car accident. I had to go to therapy for a while. Still am.”
The air shifts, and I can feel Tyler’s empathy in the silence that follows. And I can’t stop words from rolling out of my mouth swiftly, comfortably. “I miss him a lot. When he passed away, it took areallybig toll on me. I couldn’t eat or sleep most of the time. Kind of ironic though because he and my aunt own a catering business together,” I let out a humorless chuckle, looking down at my cute egg roll.
Tyler grabs both of my hands, forcing me to look at him, but I keep my eyes on the floor. “I don’t think I ever got over his death. Grief is so fucking weird. It’s like I can look at his picture and I smile but then the next day, all I want to do is cry my eyes out.”
“That’s why I live here, with my aunt,” I continue, my voice soft. “You’re probably wondering why I call her my aunt, and Jared calls her Ma. It’s just,” I let go of his hands and rub my arms, feeling a chill run through me, “my dad was both parents to me, and I’ve always seen her as my aunt. It never felt right to call her my mom when that was a role my dad took over when–” my voice trails off, refusing to continue even more.
Tyler’s hands look for mine, and his grip tightens, offering silent support. I appreciate the warmth of his touch, the unspoken understanding. I’m slightly convinced he might understand what I’m feeling but solidifies it is the look in his deep blue eyes that tells me he does.
“I lost my mom,” Tyler says quietly.
“Ty, I’m sorry.” I offer, feeling a pang of empathy for him.
“It was a year ago. Car accident, too…” he explains, his voice tinged with sorrow. “My dad works all the time, so I help out where I can, but sometimes it’s hard to juggle my life and be another parental figure to Harper.”
“You’re doing good though,” I reassure him.
“Yeah, but I’m failing trigonometry and barely passing the others.”
“You’re not failing,” I lift my hand to his cheek and he leans into my touch. “You’re handling too many responsibilities at once. No one can blame you for that.”
Tyler shrugs, “I guess… I’m just being hard on myself this year.”
I bring a hand to his upper arm and squeeze it softly before silence takes over the room. It feels like an eternity passes as we work side by side, absorbing each other’s presence. We finish another tray, leaving us with just one more before Jared and Alli can fry them whenever they get back.
“You’re really hard on yourself. Why?” I question, my voice soft with concern.
Tyler hesitates for a moment, his gaze shifting. “I guess I’ve always felt the need to do everything perfectly. Especially after... well, after everything happened with my mom. I don’t want to let my dad or Harper down.”
“I get it,” I say, nodding, feeling the connection pulling us closer. “The pressure to keep things together and not let everyone down.”
“Exactly,” Tyler sighs, nodding in agreement. “Then it’s like, when I get a night of freedom, I feel guilty for not doing thethings I need to do. Assignments, reading Harper a bedtime story, cleaning the house, all of it.”
“You know, it’s okay to not have to carry everything alone. That’s why people have each other,” I reassure. “I used to shut people out despite them reaching out to me. It was just easier that way for me to cope. My aunt had to fight tooth and nail just to get me out of my room for months.”
“How did you manage to cope?”
I pause, considering my answer. “I don’t think anyone can move on after a loved one’s death… especially when it’s your mom or dad. You just wake up one day, feeling less sad. Other days, it can hit you like a wave. I just learned to cope with it all.”
“Was your dad driving? If you don’t mind me asking.” Tyler takes a break from rolling egg rolls and leans against the counter.
