To Grieve, Learn and Let Go (Pedro Pascal/Joel Miller Inspired Story)

The Flashback

My dad opened the door and had me enter it first. I immediately came to a stop once I saw the atmosphere and my throat tightened a little. Live music is playing, and the smell of burgers and fries permeated the bistro. 

"Whoa, looks like everyone is here." He said with a little laugh as he smoothed out his rough hair and chin. "Maybe we can get that seat at that corner over there." He said pointing at the quaint little area on the far-left side of the diner beside the bar.

It's packed with people ordering and sitting down to eat their food. It's my first time being at this diner and the crowd is a little overwhelming. Plates are clicking, money is being drawn out from the cash registers, milkshakes are being made, waiters and waitresses are taking people's orders, and teenagers hanging out sharing plates of their food. It's a nice-looking diner but I don't do so well with crowds, and I sighed to settle my nerves.

A young black waiter wearing a clean uniform and white apron came over to us. "Hello and welcome! Table for how many?"

"Just two please." My dad said.

"Okay, if you'll just follow me to your table." We began to follow him.

As we walked to our table, I started to feel self-conscious. Seeing this many people wasn't anything new to me but whenever I'm in a small place filled with people, I feel like I'm being caved in. It feels as though my oxygen is being stripped away, which makes my condition worse. I held onto my inhaler inside of my pocket in case I had an attack.

We are seated exactly where my dad had hoped to be seated and my dad looked quite happy. But that happy face went away for a brief moment, and he mumbled at me to sit facing the bar. I had no idea why he asked or why he looked that way, but I did it anyway. I sit facing the bar and my dad sits with his back turned to the bar. For some reason, my dad looked a little distraught, but it quickly went away once he was given the menu. I was also given a menu.

"Should we start with any drinks?" The waiter asked as he took out a notepad and pen.

"You go ahead, Mia." My dad scanned the beverage section of the menu with concentration.

"I'll have um-raspberry iced tea, please. Light ice."

"Alright. And for you, sir?"

"Um...I'll have a peach lemonade. Extra ice, please."

"Alright, got it. I'll be right back with your drinks shortly!" The waiter walked away.

It was just us two, sitting there in awkward silence as the rest of the bistro is having an eventful time. I still have my hands inside my pocket holding onto my inhaler for dear life as I looked around to avoid looking at my dad. In the corner of my eye, I could see my dad looking at the menu.

"They've got some interesting items here. Texas Chili Burger, Habanero Cheese Fries, Mac and Cheese Grilled Cheese." He turned the page of the menu and his voice pitched. "Ahh, look, they've got a Cotton Candy sundae! That sounds fun. The Cinnamon Roll bread pudding sounds great too. Oh, they got your favorite, Hot Fudge Brownie Sundae! Maybe we can have that afterwards."

It's kind of obvious that he's trying to make lighthearted conversation with me to ease off how serious and uninterested I am in being with him. I didn't say anything to him and kept my eyes on the photos that are hung on the walls of the bistro. The photos are black and white with faces I'm familiar with and some that are unfamiliar. They're homy and have that nostalgic flair.

"Umm...this is a nice-looking place." He said awkwardly but friendly, setting the menu down. "Seems new. Has that small hint of the 1950s. It's different from those roadside bistros and diners. Haha! This is New York anyway."