Page 28 of You'll Love it Here

I basically inhale the next few bites, eager to clear my plate. Sami takes a seat on the other side and does the same.

“That good?” Sami says, noticing my renewed focus on the meal.

I nod. “I’m going to be honest now that he’s gone. This was the best random meal I’ve ever had.”

“You just couldn’t say it in front of him?” He rests both his hands on the counter, those arms in my field of vision.

I look down to my plate, searching for something to say to distract myself. “So, you went to culinary school?”

Unexpectedly, Sami’s eyes droop. He removes his cap and brushes his hair back with his fingers. “How else was I going to take over a diner that serves exclusively deep-fried food?”

I chuckle, but there’s a distant gaze in his eye, like I pressed on something delicate.

“Well, I’m no expert on fine dining, but I have been to a few Holiday Inn Express breakfast bars and can confidently say, this is fantastic.”

“I appreciate it.” The side of his mouth lifts and the dimple returns.

“You should add it to the menu.”

His head shakes so fast it seems almost on instinct. Again, it’s like I touched on something that isn’t quite right.

I shift in my seat. “So...” I start, searching for safer ground. “How long has your family had this place?”

“Oh, let’s see. I was about nine and I’m thirty-five now. So, us Zekers have had it for two and a half decades?” His expressionbrightens. “The funny thing is, it was a Persian restaurant for like two seconds when my parents first bought it.”

“Really?”

He nods. “But it was the nineties in Calgary and there were already enough Persian restaurants in the city.” At my raised eyebrow, he smirks. “All three of them.” He leans just a little closer to me. “This one night, my parents were freaking out that we hadn’t gotten a single customer all day, so I told them they should just sell normal food. To a nine-year-old, that meant burgers and fries. But they actually listened. They must’ve been desperate.” Sami winces. “My dad originally wanted to rebrand it as Corner Coffee andNormalFood. I wish he’d done it, would have been hilarious.”

I chuckle. “And it worked?”

“Yeah, after that my parents were kicking me and my friends out because we took up space forrealcustomers.”

My fork scrapes against the plate as I gather the last bite of juicy chicken. “You must really love it, to keep working here.”

“Yeah, I mean...” Again, his stare is distant. “It’s special. It hasn’t really changed in twenty years and that’s comforting.”

I can’t relate, but I suppose if I had Sami’s sweet parents and this home I’d maybe understand not wanting to leave.

Sami cuts into my mind with “Obviously, the neighborhood changed a lot. Things have gotten quieter.” There’s a mournful look in his eyes. “Every time they tear down a building to make a high-rise, we lose another group of regulars. And if it’s a Northern Properties project, then we get a two-year- minimum shit show of an empty lot, followed by years of construction.” He points his fork out the window, toward the site across the road beside Valleyview Apartments. He’s right. Despite all that drilling the other week, the pit hasn’t changed much this month, apart from some weeds growing and poking through the ugly orange fencing they’ve erected, and all the lovely garbage and broken beer bottles that have sprouted.

“Hopefully when that’s built, the new residents will love the diner too?” I try saying optimistically.

Sami shakes his head. “The land proposal for that place says that thing is going to be a massive tower with condos that aren’t affordable for most anyone, and a bunch of chain restaurants below. Not a single individual-owned business in sight. And that’s if we’re lucky and they actually finish it.”

I stare at the empty seats around me that seem to echo a different time. “Ah,” I say awkwardly, dropping my fork against the empty plate.

“But hey,” he says. “There are still some holdouts who value the community, like Irene.”

I focus on my mug, then drain the last gulp. “Speaking of Irene, I better get back there. I offered to help out around the building while she’s recovering.”

“Seriously? Irene’s always been so bad at accepting help.” His eyes soften. “It’s nice of you.”

He reaches for my plate and the motion brings him closer to me. Even though he isn’t touching me, it sends shivers up my skin.

“What do I owe you?” I rush, standing up and rooting into my pocket for my wallet.

He shakes his head. “No, your money’s no good here today.”