Chapter 6

(Dion)

It isn't a meal, it's a celebration

Pride. His father's voice resonated with it as he took Dion on a tour through the renovations that had been made since the last time he'd visited the restaurant. Pops had been right; the photographs didn't do them justice. Not only had his dads converted everything in the kitchen to stainless steel and had the space expanded to include a second walk in freezer, but they'd finally added solar panels and a rooftop greenhouse where they could grow all the herbs and fresh vegetables they used in the kitchen.

Dion had grown up in the restaurant, it was where he'd learned to multitask, and been taught that the experience was just as important as the product. It was the place that had taught him to pay attention to detail, ask questions, and listen without working out his response before the other person had finished speaking.

The biggest change was the addition of an outdoor dining space, with wooden arch trellises over each table, supporting a canopy of vines that gave the whole space a garden party theme, especially with the long strands of clear patios lights interwoven with shorter strands of glowing red chili peppers, softly shimmering avocados, and bright yellow pineapples. It was a beautiful representation of the tropical salsa his dad specifically grew one blend of purple prince peppers to enhance. It had been a staple of the restaurant for over a decade and in that time, Pops and his Old Man had gone back and forth in a friendly but heated rivalry as they'd created innovative and sometimes downright terrifying variations, all with a different pepper highlighted.

Between the little bets they made with one another on the side and the actual tastings they hosted as special after-hours events, the process of determining a new menu item had become an actual event.

What else could one expect from a restaurant known as Chili-Pops

"Your cousin Asha has been driving us up the wall asking when you'd get here," Pops said. "It was almost as bad as being on a road trip with you kids and the million and one times you asked are we there yet before we ever got out of the city. I swear, I had half a mind to just tape a note to the back of the seats, so that every time you glanced up and prepared to ask that question, you'd see the answer right there.

"Yeah, and why do I get the feeling it wouldn't have been a one word note?

"Because you know your father."

"So, what would it have said?"

"If we're moving, we're not there yet."

"Sooo…what about gas station stops and bathroom breaks?" Dion asked as he cut his dad a look and chuckled when the older man narrowed his eyes at him.

"And that right there is the reason we never taped up a god damned sign. You were a shit back then and you are a shit now."

"And I came by it honestly enough."

Pops paused and nodded solemnly. "Amen to that."

They paused so Dion could take in the new lighting and damn it was an improvement. The old fixtures had been identical and dangled from chains over the tables like in every 80s pizzeria, the restaurant's name and logo stretched around the checkerboard pattern of stained glass. When they'd decided to gut the dining room and restructure the table placements so they were staggered, the main purpose had been to do away with the booths and widen the aisles to make the restaurant more accessible for those with disabilities. That the new design also afforded their patrons more privacy had only been a bonus.

A local metalsmith had crafted the new lights, each unique and representing one of the ingredients used in the restaurant. Easier to clean, they were colorfully powder coated and sealed so the colors shimmered where the lights touched them, lending to an ambiance of warmth and celebration that had completely transformed the vibe of the restaurant.

And then there was the community wall of fame. Now that was truly special. It wasn't a space covered in framed photos, newspaper clippings and awards. It was fluid and changed as organically as the vegetables that came in and out of season. Young people were encouraged to bring in graded papers, art projects, college acceptance letters, and even awards for perfect attendance, while everything from engagement notices to promotions had graced the wall in honor of the adults who dined there. It was better than reading a gossip collum, more uplifting too. Spreading positivity throughout the community brought his dads as much joy as seeing every seat full. Stepping closer, Dion found himself reading the article to the far center left, about a local musician who'd recently achieved a measure of fame when the local radio stations started playing his music. The photo showed a young man smiling shyly as he cradled his guitar, his shoulder length brown hair curling lightly at the ends. Dion made a mental note to reach out and see if he'd like to perform for their patrons one night. That outside space would make for a beautifully intimate venue, and with just the right menu and some creative cocktail pairings, it would create a real dining experience.

God it was good to be home.

Dion was already giddy and itching to pull his notebook from his bag when he caught sight of the name beneath the photo.

Ajay McCarren.

Wasn't that Angel's friend?

He'd have to ask when he saw Angel for lunch on Wednesday afternoon. If he wasn't, then Dion would have to figure out how to contact him and get him to agree to do a performance at Chili-Pops, as well as grace the stage at the community event. Bella and Angel had decided that they wanted to have live, local entertainment ranging from music to comedians and had even reached out a trio of fire dancers. It was already shaping up to be an amazing event after just two days of planning, and he couldn't wait to see what Angel came up with between now and Wednesday afternoon.

The way Angel put ideas together, taking bits and pieces and shuffling them around to elevate them from solid to outstanding, was something Dion had quickly come to admire. With any hopes, he could entice him into a bit of collaboration. In just two short days, Bella and Angel had rekindled the passion and enthusiasm that had been waning these past few years as Dion plodded through one black tie event after the other.

Being back here in the community that shaped him opened a new door, one where he could infuse the events he coordinated with more of his thematic flare. Tones of old school R & B song drifted out from the kitchen as they headed down the hall, leading Dion and his Pops to start singing along to TLC's Waterfalls . What had ever made him think chasing that corporate position was better than being right here? The moment the thought entered his mind he was hit with an answer so pure it almost knocked the pause in him.

He needed to leave to appreciate what he'd be coming home to.

Message received.

A warm breeze greeted them when they stepped outside into the courtyard where Asha was already waiting at a table with three glasses and a pitcher of lemonade filled with pink ice cubes. It was another Chill-Pops staple. Flavored ice that released additional bursts of flavor as they melted. Born out of a desire to provide cold drinks that didn't wind up being weak if they weren't consumed immediately, they'd experimented with freezing juice and other mixers, eventually creating flavor profiles their customers adored. As a bonus, diners were given the option to customize their drinks, creating a whole slew of mix and match possibilities that were a big hit with the kids.

"Ohhhh finally! What took you so long!" Asha said as she leapt to her feet and hugged him.

For barely breaching the five-foot mark when it came to height, she was strong and sturdier than her slim build suggested. She'd always been a spitfire, especially when she was excited about something. If she'd been any stronger, she'd have cracked one of his ribs with the way she was squeezing.

Chuckling, he hugged her back and glanced at the silver Rolex he wore, one of the few extravagant pieces he'd allowed himself. "Your text said 9 AM. It's 8:57. I'm early and that's after stopping for a breakfast burrito, which reminds me. Pops, I ran into Mr. Tookes when I was in line and he asked me to tell you that your poker game is being moved to his place, since Mz. Woolridge's mother is in town and doesn't put up with gambling or vulgarity in her presence."

"Thank you. His luck is gonna run out tonight, I'm telling you. He took me for three buy one get one free deals last week with a Jack high straight when I was sitting on three aces, then turned around and got the first Royal Flush of the year."

"Dayum, Pops, it's July already, you guys are slipping," Dion said.

"Oh, you think so," Pops said. "Well then, if you think you can teach us old cats something then feel free to come to Tookes' with me tonight and bring some good coupons this time, not that fifty-cent off shit. I've wanted to try my hand at wing sauces for a while now and a little extra in the pocket would go a long way towards collecting ingredients."

"Pops, if you can pull off anything like that sweet n' smoky bourbon blend you made when I came home for Uncle Claude's wedding, I will buy whatever ingredients you want, especially if I get to taste test them."

"If he's tasting, I'm tasting," Asha decreed, determined not to be left out.

"Well, if he's buying, I'm mixing," Pops declared.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Dion said as they took seats beneath the canopy of vines his Pops had been telling him about, the shade lending to a much cooler experience than sitting beneath a large umbrella.

Since Asha had been thoughtful enough to get everything set up, Dion poured the drinks, sipping to discover that today's extra flavor tasted a lot like dragon fruit.

"So tell me why Pops has four extra gray hairs from you hounding him about when I was getting here?" Dion asked once they'd settled in.

Sputtering, she shot his Pops a look that the older man ignored in favor of sipping his drink while appearing completely nonchalant. "First off, those four hairs have been gray since 1994. You just never saw them because he kept covering them up with Just for Men ."

"Now hold on," Pops said, shooting her the side eye. "I don't know who told you that was what I was picking up at the corner store, but they got their facts wrong. I picked up that box thinking it was a skin care cream."

Dion snorted at that. "Uh-huh."

"Surrrrrrreeeeeee," Asha drew out, snickering as Dion's Pops poofed up a little.

"Look, you two, you aren't too old for me to banish to the far recesses of the kitchen to do prep work, so watch it, now. You leave me and these old follicles alone."

"You mean like they're leaving your head alone one strand at a time?" Asha muttered around her straw.

Coughing to smother his snickers when the old man's gaze swiveled his way, Dion dabbed at his lips stared off across the courtyard trying to pretend like he wasn't in the conversation.

"Neither of you is as funny as you think you are," Pops said. "If you were, I'd tell you to take your asses out to Hollywood."

"No, you wouldn't," Asha said. "You'd miss us too much."

"Meh, you'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" Pops said before rapping his knuckles on the table. "Now if you two could be serious a moment, we've only got a few hours before the place starts filling up and I've got a lot of work left to do in the kitchen. Don't see why you needed me out here in the first place. You know I'll sign off on anything as long as it's fitting for our customers and doesn't leave the place in flames."

"I'm still waiting to hear what all the urgency was about," Dion admitted.

"Two words, Signature Sizzlers," Asha said as she opened the folder on the table beside her and passed one page to Dion and another to Pops. Eighteen images adorned the page, six depicting a dish severed on a sizzling platter, six depicting colorful cocktails and the final six making Dion drool because holy shit those were some decadent looking desserts.

Pops cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh, so you brought me out here so you could show me all the extra work you plan on making for my kitchen crew."

"Please. You'll have the first platter worked out before the end of service tonight," Asha said.

"What if we were to alter those two words to three," Dion suggested. "Summer Signature Sizzlers. "We unveil four at once and then one or two a week until the end of September."

"Aren't we a bit late trying to plan something for this summer?" Pops said.

"First day of summer isn't until June twentieth," Asha said. "It's just the twelfth now."

Pops stroked his chin and stared at the images, humming what they'd grown up calling his thoughtful hum. Good or bad, it always proceeded an answer and once given, it was rare that he changed his mind. Dion shot a look at Asha out of the corner of his eye to see her nibbling on her lower lip as she leaned forward just a little, until she was almost on the edge of her seat. All of her focus was on Pops, who had the art of tapping his finger while steadily stroking his chin, down to an absolute science.

"We've got a lot to do in eight days if we're going to make this work, but I say we will make it work," Pops declared. "What I need from you two is a general flavor profile for the first four dishes. If each sizzler is a theme, then give me some notes on your theme. I don't need ideas for the actual dishes, I'll work that out once I see what you give me to go on. Once you hand that over to me, I expect you'll handle the advertising. Hmmm now you've got me thinking about shredding some wings and thighs and drenching all that dark meat in some sauce with a bit of slaw on the side and some chilis and onions mixed in with that chicken. Nothing too heavy, but I might add my peach salad to the plate too, give it some balance. We may even do something with samples leading up to the unveiling. Just a thought. You two do with it what you will, but it might tease a few folks into coming back for a full plate. You let me focus on the kitchen and you two pack this place."

"We will, Unc," Asha said.

"You'd better or you'll be the one back there running the dishes through the machines," Pops cautioned her.

Just when Dion was about to be very immature and snicker and point at her like when they were kids, Pops pointed a finger at him and narrowed his eyes. "And you will be right there helping her."

Shit.

"I hear ya," Dion said, immediately wiping the smirk from his face.

"Then you'd best believe me," Pops said. "Now, you two get to work and leave me to my prep before the doors open and the only thing I have to serve them is your hides."

He took his leave then, leaving Asha to shake her head at him as they finished their drinks and refilled their glasses.

"Can I see the rest of the pages?" Dion asked, gesturing towards her folder.

"Have at ‘em. Here's a sharpie if you need to mark them up. I'd really like your input and not just on this. I want to learn how to do what you do. Between me and you, I think we can elevate Chili-Pops even more than it already is and make it a true destination spot. Maybe even wind up on one of those coast-to-coast food shows and really put the place on the map."

"Okay, Cuz, I hear yea, but dial it down a notch for right now. We've got four themes to link with four uniquely different flavor profiles and that is going to be a challenge. If we start thinking too large, we'll miss our target."

She nodded at that and raised her glass to him. "I like that. Here's to making the Summer Signature Sizzlers the first in a long line of amazing new concepts."

"Here. Here."