Page 59 of Best Friend Burden

“Is this going out live?” I asked.

She shook her head as if I was stupid. “No, just live to tape,” she said and then added sharply, “but we're not doing any editing, so don't count on there being another take.”

“Got it.”

I recalled being interviewed back in Austin for the truck, and despite being in the world's entertainment capital, this wasn't much different. It was still two people — a cameraman and a reporter — neither of whom was smiling, just doing a job as quickly as they could before moving on to the next one.

“You ready?” she asked, although it wasn't a question. She was going whether I was ready or not.

“Sure,” I said, but the cameraman had already begun his countdown from five.

It was in that instant that I had a brief tinge of fear in my stomach, right around the corner from where Olivia was blissfully resting. What if Kiefer ended up seeing the report? By this point, I'd assumed he'd forgotten about me, which was fine. It was for the best. I just worried that, if he did see me on television, he might try to reach out. And I didn't know what I'd do.

At that moment, I wondered if I was being too hard on him. If working at the food court had taught me anything, it's that we get by with a little help from our friends. And there were two sides to that. For one, Kiefer could have stuck around to help with day-to-day things — it never hurts to have another person to reach out to when you need them. But for another, maybe he needed me during that time, and I'd blocked myself off from him.

And for what?

I could barely even remember. Something about him losing his temper, which I was prone to doing from time to time, too.

With Olivia on the way, I was scared of what it would mean for me and my life. Would I really be able to handle being a full-time mother and business owner on my own?

Then again, could I trust Kiefer to help with that? With the addiction beast hidden inside him?

Part of me wanted to. And was trying to convince the other half to reach out to him — he'd learned his lesson by now, right?

Of course, in that time, he'd almost certainly moved on. A good looking guy like him? He could have whoever he wanted. It was hard to imagine him having too many lonely, sleepless nights over me.

“We're here with Melody Cruz,” Ellen said, snapping me back to the real world, “the owner of LA's newest plant-based food truck, The Vegan Vaquero. Melody, what kind of food do you offer here?”

She was smiling now, putting on her news persona, filling every word with excitement as if this was the week's most important story. Nay, of the year.

“Well, Ellen,” I said, doing what I could to match her energy, and adding a hint of an artificial Texas twang that I found was popular with the customers, “what we've got here is authentic Tex-Mex cuisine. Tacos, burritos, enchiladas, and, of course, queso.”

On cue, Kalle came over with a tray of some of our more popular options for Ellen to sample. I grabbed a bowl of chips and another of queso, presenting it to her to try. She didn't reach at first.

“It looks amazing,” she said, “but I thought you said you were plant-based. How do you make fried queso without dairy?”

“That's something of a trade secret,” I said. “You're not allergic to cashews, are you?” I winked.

“No.”

“Then go ahead and give it a try.”

There was a bit of a cautious look in her eye, as there often was among omnivores when giving us a try for the first time. I'd seen it before, many times, and found that the easiest way to deal with it was to be politely insistent. The recipes were solid, the ingredients top-notch, and Kalle knew exactly what she was doing.

“One taste,” I said, “is all it takes to become an instant convert to the power of the plants.”

Ellen dipped a tortilla chip in the queso and had a bite. Out of the corner of my eye, I made sure that the camera was focused on her so everyone at home could see her reaction.

“That's absolutely delicious,” she said. “May I have another?”

“Please,” I said, gesturing to the tray. “Of course, we don't just have queso. We have a saying here that if you can name it, we can find a way to make it vegan. Through a combination of high-quality ingredients, careful cooking, and downright magic, we dare you to compare our food against anything else out there, vegan or otherwise.”

Ellen grabbed a taco and took a bite. “What is this?” she said. “It tastes like real meat. Are you sure it's not real meat?”

“No ma'am, that's our soy chorizo.”

This was the fun part — watching the instant converts go from being cautious to experimental, wanting to try everything.

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