Page 114 of Come Back to Me

When Violet and I were together, we barely fought. The only fight I remember is the party we went to during our senior year of high school. The one where I got a concussion from banging my head on the wall. She got pissed at me for drinking at the party because she knew how I acted when I got drunk. I didn’t try to argue back because I ultimately didn’t care. I just wanted to escape and feel good about myself.

I wasn’t myself that night.

I was never myself with alcohol coursing through my veins.

“Scrambled eggs with cheese and buttered toast?” Xander holds up one of our nonstick pans.

“Sure.”

It takes Xander twenty minutes to make us breakfast. I’m sitting at the kitchen table with a fork and a knife in front of me.

My phone’s lockscreen lights up with two texts. One from Noah, and one from Dani. I click on Noah’s text first.

Noah

I’m sorry I freaked you guys out. I should’ve told you what was going on, but it was something Dani and I needed to talk about together. We’re okay

I read Dani’s text afterwards.

Dani

hey, we talked. i’m sure noah reached out to you, so i’ll spare you repetitive details. we’re extremely lucky to have you as our friend. thank you for looking out for us, and thank you for looking out for my lover boy

And I’m very lucky to have you both as my friends.

A paper plate full of fluffy, scrambled eggs, and a golden brown piece of toast with butter on it slides in front of me. I can see the steam coming from the eggs. It won’t last long because eggs cool down fast.

Taking a stab at the eggs with my fork, a small amount lands on it, and I blow on them. When they land inside my mouth, I’m met with a soft texture and buttery flavor.

Holy crap! This is good.

“And you don’t think you’re a good cook?” I ask him.

“What makes you say that?”

“Did you cook the eggs in butter?”

His eyes grow wide. “Yeah, why? Do they taste bad?”

“Why would they taste bad? They’re so good. I don’t normally use butter because I’m too lazy.”

“I don’t know. I know how you can be, so I was prepared for the worst.”

“What do you mean byhow I can be?”

“You’re particular about your food. You know what you like, and that’s not a bad thing.”

“I think most people are particular about their food. We allhave different palates, so we enjoy different foods. Also, didn’t your mom teach you how to cook?”

He sits down diagonally from me, placing his plate of food in front of him. “She taught me the basics. She showed me how to make rice and beans when I was younger. I needed a step stool to reach the counter.” He chuckles. “I still need to work on mastering picadillo because my mother’s recipe is the best. The recipe has been handed down to her from generations before her. I think that’s why I’m so hard on myself. The women in my family are masters at what they do, and I’m not even close.”

“Oh yeah, your family’s picadillo is the best.” I take a bite of my toast. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not easy to follow in the footsteps of your family. Noah’s mom taught me all I need to know about Jewish cuisine. It’s not that my mom didn’t know anything, but she didn’t cook that much for the Jewish holidays. Laura taught me how to make matzo ball soup, potato latkes, challah bread, and brisket. She may not be related to me by blood, but she’s a part of my found family.”

“Sometimes families aren’t defined by blood or last names. Sometimes they’re just people we want to be surrounded by.”

“Wow, that was poetic and wise.”

“I have my moments.” He winks at me.