Chapter 5

I sat in a leather chair in the corner of the lobby, hugging the paper bag to my chest as I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts.

I remembered Michael's number perfectly, though I'd never actually called him before.

I dialed. The phone rang for ages, but no one picked up.

I tried again.

Still no answer.

I called a third time, then a fourth, then a fifth.

Each time, I either got a busy tone or it went straight to voicemail.

Not ready to give up, I opened my Instagram and searched for his account.

I sent him a friend request and typed out a message. [Michael, it's Nyomi. Today's my birthday. Can you come home for dinner? Just today, this once. I'll cook, and be waiting for you all.]

I hit send and began to wait for him to accept.

An hour passed, but the friend request still wasn't accepted.

Two hours went by, and he still hadn't accepted it.

The girl at the front desk had finished her shift, and the new receptionist didn't notice me sitting in the corner.

People came and went in the lobby, but none of them was Michael.

I glanced at my phone one last time. Three hours had passed, and the friend request was still not accepted.

As the sky started to darken, I stood up and walked out of the building.

He wasn't coming.

When I got home, nobody was in the villa.

Olive and the other staff had the day off, and no food was left in the kitchen.

It was so quiet that I could hear my own heartbeat.

I set the urn and the photo down on the table in the storage room, and then headed downstairs to the kitchen.

There were ingredients in the fridge, all meant for tomorrow.

I took them all out and washed each one carefully.

Michael loved roasted ribs. When I was a kid, I remembered him sharing a piece of rib with me.

That was the last time I ever sat down for a real family dinner. I was six at that time.

Daniel liked things light, poached lobster, fish fillet, never any spice.

Trevor didn't really care about food, but he couldn't stand cilantro.

Ayleen had a serious sweet tooth, and her favorite was always caramel pudding.

I couldn't make pudding, but I could whip up an apple pie.

No one ever told me any of this. I figured it all out by quietly watching them over the years.

With everything chopped and the pan sizzling, the sound of cooking seemed louder in the empty kitchen.

Hot oil splattered onto my arm more than once, raising angry red marks.

I ignored it.

One by one, I brought the dishes to the table, lining them up right.

Six sets of tableware, one for me.

After a moment's thought, I went to the fridge and grabbed a few bottles of drinks and six glasses, setting them on the table.

This was the first time in eighteen years I'd ever sat at the big dining table.

Before, I always had to eat at the small kitchen table.

But now I didn't care. They were not here.

Anyway, this was the last time.

I sat at one end of the table, looking at the five empty chairs on the other side.

My phone lay quietly on the table. No missed calls, no new texts, no friend requests accepted.

The date written on my palm felt like they were burning into my skin.

Three hours left.

I suddenly smiled.

I couldn't really say what I was feeling. It wasn't happiness or sadness, more like that drained feeling you get after running a marathon.

It was finally coming to an end.

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling, my mind tangled with memories from the past.

I thought about Grandpa spinning me around when I was four, Dad teaching me how to spell my name at five, and Mom gently stroking my hair before she went in to give birth to Ayleen.

Then I remembered the last thing Mom ever said to me. "Nyomi, it's not because of you."

I didn't understand it back then. And now, it was too late to figure it out.

The clock had passed nine when I heard a sound at the door.

I shot up from my seat, my heart giving a jolt.

The door swung open, and Ayleen came in.

She was alone, her backpack still slung over her shoulder. When she saw the table piled high with dishes, she stopped in her tracks, looking genuinely surprised. "Nyomi, did you make all this?"

"Yeah," I said.

She walked over, glancing at the tableware laid out on the table. "Why did you set out six of them?"

"I wanted to have dinner with you guys."

Ayleen cocked her head, giving me a curious look for a few seconds, like she was weighing something in her mind.

Then she broke into a smile. "Awesome. I haven't eaten yet. Trevor dropped me off at school and left right after. He said he's got stuff to do tonight and won't be back."

She pulled out a chair, sat down, stabbed a rib with her fork, and gave it a taste. "Wow, this is delicious. I had no idea you could cook, Nyomi."

I nodded and sat down across from her.

A fleeting happiness welled up from my stomach, only to be swallowed by bitterness.