Page 128 of A Fool's Game

“That’s true,” he responds.

I laugh in surprise and turn to him, arms folded. “Humble as ever, I see.”

He shrugs, smiling. “The girls will be here in an hour. Hope your chef put something on the menu for a baby.”

“Taylor’s been working on the perfect applesauce recipe all week.”

We’ve done two soft openings, but the frenetic energy of opening night is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. We’ve got a packed house, and I see someone I know at almost every table.

Gem’s roommates occupy the corner table for most of the night, sipping craft cocktails and letting the kitchen send them whatever they like. They’re joined by Gabriel, Marisol’s mysterious friend, who she always refers to as her only customer.

“The guy really can cook,” Eva muses to me as I set down a steaming bowl of mussels.

“And this way we don’t have to do the dishes,” Lana jokes.

Marisol gives her a sharp elbow. “As if you did the dishes anyway.”

The whole table laughs.

Gabriel smiles up at me, wisdom and a twinkle of something that could be life experience shining in his eyes. “This is an invaluable contribution to the neighborhood, Ainsley. Well done.”

I thank him with a handshake before I’m pulled away by the bell on the kitchen pass.

My dad and Vicki dine with baby June in the highchair we bought just for her, and it’s my favorite table to visit all night. They’re so happy, and so tuned into their little threesome, the family they created for themselves.

It’s a funny thing about shame. Sometimes we call it othernames, like fear, or anger, but when it gets right down to it, only releasing the deeply rooted not-good-enoughs settles any of the other emotions.

I spent a lot of years avoiding emotions all together, avoiding family, avoiding any suggestion of responsibility, of commitment. I thought it wasn’t for me. I thought my greatest fear in life was turning out like my father.

It’s only now, surrounded by people who know and love me, people who see me for who I am and support my ideas and dreams, that I see the truth. It’s not that I never wanted any of those things, I just somehow, at some point, picked up the idea that I wasn’t good enough for it. That I’d screw it up and let everyone down.

I still worry, of course, but I don’t let it stop me. I take blind steps in the direction my heart leads, and trust that my people won’t let me crash and burn. That I won’t let myself crash and burn. That I have enough room in my heart to hold space for others. And for myself.

Gemma

I wave goodbye to the last customers and lock the door behind them, the little bell jingling in the sudden quiet of the dining room.

“We did it,” I say, mostly to myself, still in need of confirmation that this is all real.

I have the full-time job of my dreams, of course, but the restaurant is something else. It’s a creature with a pulse and breath.

It’s our first baby.

And I could not be more proud of the two guys who’ve been working tirelessly to pull it off.

Ainsley collapses into my arms, pressing me backwards against the glass door. I laugh and try my best to hold him upright as he goes ragdoll limp.

“Tired, sweetheart?” I tease, finally managing to prop him up onto his own two feet.

“Dead,” he responds, barely holding back a smile as he lets his head drop back.

I swat him on the ass and make my escape. “Get back to work,” I call over my shoulder.

It’s hours later when we’re finally all sitting around the clean restaurant, sharing drinks with our friends who stayed to help. Marisol and Gabriel stick around, as well as the twins, Dominic, Sam, and Avery. Taylor pours a whiskey toast to a successful opening night.

“This place is off to a great start,” Dominic offers in aggressively inarguable support that I’ve come to understand is his signature style.

“We’ve been open one night,” Taylor answers, the exhaustion from the long day of working—and fielding compliments—starting to show on his face.

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