Yes, Chef

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she exploded. "This is what you two do all the time when you hang out?"

"Sweetie, it's more self-medicating than anything else," Ben tried. "You know this is a hard industry. You know how much we both work and how much stress it is. We're just unwinding."

"Oh my god, I can't believe two of the three most important men in my life are crackheads and the third is—" she suddenly remembered. "Do you know why I came to find you?" she directed her gaze at Tyler, her voice low.

"Dad's sick. He's worse than sick. He has stage four cancer and his chances of surviving are not good." She felt a sliver of satisfaction at witnessing how her brother looked as though he'd been slapped across the face.

"Fuck." The single-word sentence hung in the air amid pin-drop silence. Then Tyler got his bearings back, almost as quickly as he'd lost them. "I'll be over tomorrow. I'll help with all the appointments. Is he going to fight it? I'll change my shif—"

"Oh, no, no, no," Aki emphatically shook her head. "You'll do nothing; you won't even call him until you tell him the reason you've been so absent from our lives," she insisted, pointing toward the cocaine vial on the table. "You could have visited once a month all this time but it takes learning that he's sick for you to find your fucking conscience?! Spare me.

"You either find the balls to tell him what you've been doing, or you stay away and carry on with this shit. I'm not going to lie to him for your sorry ass, Ty. I am so heartbroken right now."

Maybe it was the drugs or the time of night or the gravity of the news Aki had just broken, but Ben was now watching his world crumble in slow-motion.

"And you," she said turning to him. "If this is the norm, why aren't Letti and everyone else snorting away their nights?"

"They could be," Ben replied, instantly knowing it was the wrong response. "I mean, everyone has different ways of coping. Aki, I love you, but you've never been working class. Your parents struggled, for sure, but you've never had anything other than office jobs—nevermind something like this where you're barely holding it together during every shift."

He said he loves me. She heard it, but it didn't register. The whirlwind of grief and hurt in that moment buried the glimmer of joy in those words.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she said out loud. "That's your answer? Ben, if this job was eating away at your soul so much, I would have dropped everything to help you find another job that pays more if not just as well. Have you even thought ahead? What if you're still cooking when you're 35 or 45? Are you still going to be snorting lines when you're married or have kids?"

"Aki..." Ben didn't have a follow-up as he slid toward the booth opening but he knew he needed to hold her.

"Don't," she recoiled at his touch, just as her face lit up in recognition. "Oh wow, this must be the reason why none of your flings with any of the waitresses worked out. It's really hard to build a relationship when you're smashed out of your mind half the time, isn't it?" Every word stung, but all Ben could do was lean against the table to stay on his feet.

"It was never going to work out with me, either, was it." Her voice was still and calm, since everyone there knew it was a statement and not a question. In a flash, the emotion from her voice was gone, and in its place was frosty dispassion.

"I'm going to have a lot to do over the next few months, and I don't know if I'll have help," she looked at Tyler, whose head was half-slumped over the table. "But one thing I don't need is an additional load. Goodbye, Ben."

She darted back the way she came, through the kitchen exit. It was the wrong time for the alcohol to hit because Ben stood up to follow her but then promptly crashed into the chairs from the next table.

I can't let her be alone right now, he thought, his legs feeling like jelly and his brain in a fog. He grabbed for another chair to pull himself up, only to bring it down on top of him instead.

"You alright, man?" he heard Tyler's voice from inside the booth.

"No. No, I am not alright. She just found out her dad might be dying and I can't even get up off the fucking floor to comfort her." A sickening thought occurred to him. "I'm probably never going to see her again."

"Nah, nah, it won't be that way," Tyler slurred.

"Are you going to admit to your dad you haven't been visiting him for years now because you've been too busy getting high?" Silence. "She's not going to let you see him until you do." More silence.

"I... I'll figure it out," Ty weakly offered.

You're not going to figure out jack shit, Ben thought to himself before sleep overtook him, right there on the dining room floor.

***********

The following days were some of the worst Ben had ever had, but they weren't worse than the following weeks of withdrawal. Tyler had wanted to talk about that night but Ben couldn't even stand to look at his friend—mainly because he reminded him so much of himself. And he sure couldn't stand to look at himself right now.

It gutted him that the last time Aki saw him, he was hammered and wrestling with a bunch of chairs on the floor. She hadn't shown up for work ever again, and not even Tyler was able to get through to her.

"Every time I text her, no matter what it's about, her pat response is 'are you going to tell dad?' And she stops texting back because I never say yes," he complained to Ben when he cornered him in the freezer the following week.

"Boo-fucking-hoo, Ty," Ben bit off.

"Why are you all pissy with me?" Ty asked, genuinely perplexed. "I didn't force the coke on you." Ben sighed. The chill of the freezer was starting to get to him but he didn't want to have this conversation in front of any of the other staff.

"I'm maybe 10 percent mad at you because you introduced me to this stuff," he replied, looking his friend in the eye for the first time in a week. "But I'm 90 percent mad at myself for going along with you instead of trying to get you off this shit. And now I can't be with the love of my life during the worst time she's probably ever gone through." When Tyler embraced him, Ben had to fight back tears.

"It's that serious?" he asked, his words muffled by Ben's meaty shoulder.

"It was that serious," Ben said, returning Tyler's hug. "She probably thinks I'm trash. I know we'd only been together a few months, but I knew she was the one from the first time we talked." He gave a small chuckle. "I didn't even feel the pepper spray that bad." Tyler patted his back.

"Then it's not over."

Just as they were opening the freezer door, they noticed the exodus from the kitchen to the dining hall and realised the staff meeting Nell had called earlier was about to begin.

"Some of you may have noticed some repeat customers in the last month or more," Nell started. "And more than a few of you are probably bright enough to know these people are investors."

As Ben listened to his boss speak, he couldn't believe Aki had suspected this very thing when no one else had even caught a whiff of it. Nell was moving back to the States and shifting her entire attention to opening a new restaurant there. She assured everyone their jobs were safe since she'd found a buyer for this location who agreed to that clause, but there was still a bit of a question mark in his mind.

"I don't know about this, man," he said to Tyler as they sat at a table by the front window with coffees late that night. Neither of them even wanted to look at their old booth. "Do we even know what kind of establishment this new buyer wants to operate? Did she tell you anything more than what she said at the meeting?"

"You know everything I know," Tyler said. "But look, I have no reason to believe it's going to turn out badly. Nell is a monster during the push every night, but she actually cares about what happens to everyone here." He drained the last of his black coffee. "You're not still coming over, are you?"

"Sure am," Ben smiled. "I'm going to search your place like I'm the cops and you're not a nice-looking white boy from the suburbs. Last week was rock-bottom for me, and I hope it was for you, too. You sure I'm not going to find anything?"

"You weren't even talking to me until this morning and I haven't left your sight since then. No, last week was the last time. It's a good thing we haven't talked because I've been a little bitch since then."

"I know, the withdrawal is kicking my ass," Ben concurred. "I'm sure missing Aki has something to do with it, but I've barely slept. Yet I'm exhausted." He let them sit in a hush before bringing up what he really wanted to know. "You gonna talk to your dad?" Ben asked softly. Tyler was again silent, but only for a minute.

"I have to. I can't not be with him, and I can't let her take care of him alone. And if that means he thinks less of me for what I've been doing all this time..." he shrugged.

"Hey, a wise asshole once told me it's not over," Ben grinned as he stood to wash their mugs while Tyler locked up.

***********

"Are you going to tell dad?" Aki demanded, standing in the doorway of her parents' home like a sentry and staring down her brother on the porch. This was all she'd said to him for the last two weeks and she didn't plan to stop.

"Yes."

"Yes?" She wasn't expecting this.

"Yes. And I'm moving back in. We're going to fight this together, Aki." Tyler turned back down toward the driveway and picked up two suitcases and a shoulder bag. She'd barely stepped aside before he jostled his way in and looked disapprovingly at the floor tiles and carpet. "I'll unpack. Then I'm going to talk to dad. Then I'm going to vacuum."

Aki didn't know how it happened but she was suddenly clutching her brother and sobbing. She'd come home and bawled the night she'd left Ben on the floor of the restaurant, which was by far the worst day of her life. But after that, she swore she wouldn't cry again. Tyler stroked her back as she broke that promise to herself for the next 10 minutes.

"You're not alone," he said when she'd finally slowed her breathing. "You cook, I'll clean, and we'll do all the hospital stuff together." He paused. "Actually, scratch that. I'll cook, you clean. Dad has it hard enough." Aki giggled in spite of herself.

"You can't do all that with work too," she said.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm gainfully unemployed," Tyler said. "If you can resign from work to take care of dad, so can I. I have enough savings. Especially now that I'm clean." He caught his breath from the force of Aki's hug. "That night you found Ben and me... that was the end of it, I swear."

Ben.

She'd thought about him for most of the day, every day since she last saw him in what was likely the most pitiful state he'd ever been in. What she couldn't get around was that he'd needed her to understand the level of chronic stress he'd been under, and she'd failed him.

"It's totally up to you," Tyler continued, "but I know he'd really appreciate it if you returned his messages."

"I can't," she said, still ashamed. "He even let it slip that he loved me, and I... I was terrible to him."

"You had just gotten the worst news anyone could ever get," Tyler reasoned. "Trust me, Ben—"

"Aki?" a voice called. Both she and Tyler turned toward the stairs. "Who's at the door?"

With a half-smile, Tyler picked up his bags and went upstairs to speak to his father for the first time in months. When he emerged, it was Aki's turn to hold him while he cried.

"He doesn't care," he whispered. "He doesn't care what I did or why. He just cares that I stopped and that I'm here now."

Although Aki had gone into her father's illness determined to go it alone, there were too many occasions over the next several months where she thanked her stars for Tyler's support. It was simply impossible to be a long-term caregiver alone and not burn out.

The final time she was grateful for his help was when he did the task she was literally not strong enough to do—carrying their father's body downstairs to be taken to the funeral home in early October of that year.

Paul Senebah had known from the moment he'd received his diagnosis that he was facing his last months. While friends and relatives visited their home during the initial four days of mourning as per Ojibwe funeral customs, Aki and Tyler took turns keeping the ceremonial fire alive.

Don't burn out, don't burn out, Aki thought groggily as she awoke in the middle of the night on the living room floor and reached for the poker near the fireplace. She wasn't sure if the demand was directed toward the fire or herself. Just one more night. The following morning was the fifth day, when she and Tyler would bury their father.

Standing by his gravesite, there was a special emptiness in her heart that transcended the loss of both her parents. She once again wished she'd been brave enough to go back and talk to Ben back in the Spring.

At least he would have been able to meet you, Dad, she thought as tears streaked her cheeks. Tyler held her hand tight, but she regretted it not being Ben.

"Sacred one, teach us love, compassion and honour," an elder spoke as Tyler stepped forward to place deerskin moccasins on his father's feet. He carefully peeled back the birch bark that wrapped the rest of the body in the casket, then replaced it.

"Teach us to heal the earth and heal each other. Guide our dear brother, Paul, to Gaagige Minawaanigoziwining—the land of everlasting happiness." Aki's aunts then placed tiny birch bark baskets filled with food offerings inside the casket.

"Remember at other funerals when people did this and dad leaned over and said, 'always pack a lunch'?" Tyler whispered to his sister. Aki smiled at the way her dad had interpreted Anishinaabe customs for them when they were kids.

After she saw her father's face for the last time as the casket closed, after the hundredth person had asked her how she was, and after the last guest had left, it was just her and Tyler in an empty house.

"What now?" he asked when they found themselves sitting on the living room floor, bereft of the spoons needed to clean up.

"The dirty work," Aki replied. "We donate dad's clothes. We close accounts. Don Murrell said he'd come back Monday with dad's will. How weird is that going to be?"

Listening to how the spoils of her father's life would be divvied up was certainly uncomfortable. A few days later, she found herself straining to pay attention a couple of times as she and Tyler sat at the kitchen table with the family lawyer.

"...so I know I've been blathering on, but legally, I'm obligated to tell you all the nitty-gritty details," Don concluded in his trademark baritone, his silver beard a gorgeous contrast to his dark oak skin. "Here's what it means. A portion of your dad's assets are to go to the tribe. The rest is split evenly between the two of you."

"Uh, no," Tyler protested. "That's not fair. I'm—"

"Every bit his child as Aki is," Don interrupted while writing down some figures. He took off his glasses. "Tyler, Paul and I were friends for 40 years. I know exactly what he thought of each of you. You can dispute the will if you're extremely stupid," he paused as Tyler let out a small laugh amid a fresh set of tears, "but I will charge you the rate I charge for clients I hate." He turned two slips of paper around.

"This is what you're each set to receive," Don continued as the siblings' eyes grew wide. "That's all investments, liquid assets, and what your mother left for you. It does not include the house, which is now in both your names."

"My lord," Aki said under her breath, knitting her brow.

"He sure lived a simple life, didn't he?" Don said, standing and packing his files back into his briefcase. "I'm going to miss that crotchety old bastard."

After she and Tyler visited the bank to close Paul's accounts a few days later, Aki found herself having to take a detour to avoid road construction. A familiar site caught her eye but it actually wasn't familiar at all.

"Is that Nell's?" she asked Tyler.

"It was Nell's," Tyler replied, bemused. "Take the next left." As they came to a halt before the bolted doors, Aki peered at the sign on the door as Tyler stepped back to inspect the blackened windows. "Son of a bitch," he swore. "What the hell happened? It's only been, what, six months since I resigned?"

"Less," Aki said. "I'm calling the property management group." It was a quick call and an even quicker meeting the following week, but Aki's brain was lit up with fireworks as she drove home and figured out how to break her idea to her brother.

"We should rent the space," she blurted out, even before she'd closed the front door.

"Okay, how many times have I told you to start from the beginning of the story and not the end?"

"Nell did keep her promise and everyone's jobs were secure after the change in management," Aki explained. "But she didn't sell like I thought she would. She leased the restaurant to people who wanted it to come fully-staffed. They were inexperienced and so that's why it tanked. When the location fell back into her hands, she called the property management company, and she's just another month away from unloading it altogether.

"We have to jump on this, Ty," she barreled on. "We have the money to lease the place, but not buy it. And leasing it would be a far safer bet—"

"Aki, we're inexperienced," Tyler pointed out.

"Only when it comes to getting paid what we're worth. You ran the floor for years and brought in new staff all the time. I was doing the books for Nell for a while, too." She gripped her brother's arms.

"If we can work out a plan, we can lease and staff the place for a good six months with our inheritance and do it right. Ty, I ran the numbers in the car. We would still have money left over even if we failed."

Tyler didn't say anything, but seemed like he was staring at something far away.

"Don't tell me you already got another job," Aki prodded.

"No, no... look, I didn't want to tell you this because it's a sore spot, but I'm still in touch with Ben," Tyler admitted.

"Oh."

"He's been asking me about dad all through the illness, and we met up for lunch the other day. He said work was going well but that's all he said, and then he changed the topic." Tyler's eyebrows narrowed. "Why the fuck wouldn't that asshole tell me the truth?"

Because he's the most considerate and caring guy either of us have ever met, Aki thought as the wound of breaking up with Ben split wide open again. He didn't want to make any part of that conversation about himself. She fought the urge to query whether Ben had asked about her.

"Text him again," she instead ordered her brother. "Ask him to meet you for a coffee. Wherever he's working now, we're going to poach him. And after him, we're going to poach our entire staff back, with a diverse menu and a new business plan."

***********

All the burger patties Ben stared at blurred together with the patties he'd made a half-hour ago, and he genuinely couldn't remember whether he'd already flipped these one over. He tried to figure out which was worse—cooking while drunk, or cooking while bored out of his mind.

The all-day diner he'd landed at after Nell's 2.0 had closed wasn't awful. It kept the lights on at home and he actually had two days off in a row nowadays, even if they were in the middle of the week. Plus, it was the only place he could find a job on such quick notice. When his apron buzzed, Ben snapped out of his burger trance.

You're off early today, right? Ty had texted him. Can I meet you for a coffee?