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“New York, then. Your pick.”
I grabbed my purse and led him to the subway.
“I have a car.”
“Subway is faster.” It was time for Kade to understand my world for once. If he was going to be a father to my child, I wanted him to know what real life was like. I didn’t want my child to grow up indulged and entitled. “But keep your wallet in your front pants pocket.”
“I have ridden the subway before,” he quipped.
“Really? When?”
“We used to take the train in from the Hamptons when we were teens.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why not a car? It’s not like you didn’t have drivers.”
He had a look on his face that suggested I wouldn’t like his answer. “We saw it as an adventure.”
“Yes, slumming it is quite fun.”
We rode to lower Manhattan and walked toward Central Park. I held out my hand like a game show host toward a food truck serving southern fusion food.
Kade grimaced. “Here?”
“Here,” I said. “Afraid real food will ruin your palette?”
“More like I’m afraid I’ll get sick.”
I rolled my eyes. “They have to pass food inspections like all other food places.” I walked up to the truck and ordered two shrimp mango tacos in a waffle. I started to pay, but Kade shoved over a twenty-dollar bill, telling the guy to keep the change.
We walked to the park and sat near the fountain. “Bon appetit,” I said taking a bite of the food.
Kade studied his meal for a moment. Finally, he shrugged and took a bite. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“Right?” I said, pleased he could appreciate something that didn’t cost fifty dollars a plate.
He looked at me. “Is this the type of thing you want to make? Waffle tacos?”
“Maybe not waffle tacos, but foods that combine cultures into a new taste delight. And while I don’t want to kick rich people out of my place, I’d like it to be affordable to regular people, too.”
“Is that why you changed your menu?”
I studied him, wondering what John had told him. “We’re starting with one change. An appetizer, but we’re looking at new menu changes, yes.”
“Just one?” He shook his head. “He told me you changed the menu.”
“I’m not an idiot, Kade.”
He had the decency to look chagrined. “No. You’re not.” We finished our tacos and he surprised me by asking me to show him other fusion options.
“You know, I was shocked when I heard Ash took Hannah out for dirty water dogs,” he admitted as we ate a regular old American ice cream cone, after we split an order of Asian street fries.
“Why? They’re so good. And so New York.”
“The idea of it is repulsive.” He made a face of disgust.
“Snob,” I said, laughing.
He looked down, and I wondered if I hurt his feelings. “I know I don’t know what it’s like to live the way most others do, but I’m not impervious to life’s difficulties, sufferings, challenges.”
I knew he’d lost his mother. I was lucky to still have mine.
“We were raised, though, to ignore feelings. Well, my father did. My mother was great. She taught me to cook. My father used to tell her to stop teaching me pansy stuff.”
I winced. “Kade, that’s…” I wanted to say terrible, but perhaps that was too much judgment.
“I’ve had the last laugh. The restaurants do very well.”
“But you don’t cook in them. Is that your passion?”
“I like to cook at home. Or for family, on occasion. I once babysat Hannah and she told me how you cook with her.”
I smiled. “She’s my sous chef.”
“It’s clear I still have things to learn. I hope you’ll be patient with me.”
I wasn’t sure what he was asking, but I nodded anyway. All the anger and hostility were gone. It was time to tell him about the baby, I realized.
“Kade, I — ” My phone rang with my mother’s ringtone. “I’m sorry, that’s my mom. I need to get it.”
He nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“Mom?” I answered.
“Oh, Morgan.” She sounded so weak, and it was the voice she had when she’d been crying.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“I’m in pain and I can’t find my medication. Or the pain relievers.”
“I’m on my way. Just stay there.” I poked the button off as I stood. “I have to go, Kade. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t wait to explain, and simply made my way back to the subway station.
“What’s wrong?” He kept step with me.
“It’s my mom. She has lupus; it’s been getting progressively worse.” I wasn’t sure why I was laying this on him. Maybe it was to show him what real life challenges were like.
“Can I help?”
I shook my head. “I need to pick up some pain reliever and get home.”
He took my arm to stop me, as he lifted his other arm and let out a shrill whistle. “Take a cab, it will be faster.”
A yellow cab pulled up to the curb and he opened the door. When he climbed in next to me, I said, “You don’t need to come with me.”
