Chocolate Cheesecake
I shoved my face into the slice of chocolate cheese cake. But not before destroying a bacon cheese burger and onion rings with lots of ketchup. Laughing mom said, “Take it easy Jacob. Need you alive for your 14th birthday too”. I laughed. Shake Shack was our tradition. No matter whose birthday, it’s where we went. Mom’s was October 22nd. Dad’s was December 8th. And mine was June 25th. The waitress asked if there’d be anything else, grabbed a few empty dishes from our table, and handed dad the tab. He thanked her. He then opened the small black leather binder and studied the document. His eyebrows rose.
Mom looked at him. “Are we good?” Dad closed the binder and grabbed some Cajun Shoe String Fries from his plate. But mom pressed in. “Darius… are we good?” He continued and vacuumed whatever soda was left in his glass and placed it back down. When suddenly his eyes began to water. He then turned to me and calmly said, “Whatever you do in this life, Jacob, get money. Lots of it. The kind where asking others help isn’t needed.” He wiped his face with his sleeves and looked into the distance, quitting while ahead.
“Honey, don’t listen to your father”, mom interjected. “Money is overrated. She propped her purse on the table and scooted over. “Instead, try and see money like oxygen. It’s everywhere, right?” I nervously smiled and nodded in approval. “Tell me. When’s the last time you’ve run out of oxygen.” This made an impression on my dad, I could tell. “You wouldn’t be here, Jacob, to tell me if you did. You’d be brain dead. The truth is each day your lungs receive all the oxygen they’ll ever need, and not a breath short.” She grabbed my fork and took a bite of my cheesecake, and stared at dad. Calmly I said, “Then why’s dad crying?”
“I’m crying because… well… because… you see… it’s my job to provide. But I haven’t been.” His lip quivered. My dad was the most giving man around. He had a big scar on his forehead from fighting a pit-bull looking to hurt his younger sister. He was 17 then, and she was 8. He always loved others more than himself. “Yes, oxygen might be everywhere”, he calmly said, “but the taller the mountain, the thinner the air”. This struck a cord and my mom began crying, too.
He reached for her hand and comforted her. I pushed my cheesecake aside and said, “Mom and Dad, I don’t need money or oxygen or mountains or Shake Shack.” They looked at me wondering whose child is this. “All I really need is to get off punishment, so I can play with my friends next time I’m in trouble”. They rolled their eyes and laughed. I ate the last of my chocolate cheese cake and wiped my mouth. And it didn’t matter what the tab was, long as the currency was love, joy, and peace.