The days leading up to the soft opening are the most I've ever worked in my life. Ferit does his best to handle most of Bulut's care so that I can focus, but I know he also has a huge burden on him as he attempts to unwind some of Hakan's sabatoge. Unfortunately, I don't even have the time to feel guilty.
It's a miracle that Emre and I have made it this far without any violence, but the night before the soft opening nearly ends in blood. Emre's normally anxious personality has only heightened and my patience for his constant worrying has evaporated. I have to stop myself from locking him into the nearest closet so that I can have some peace to think. The decisions that have to be made never seem to stop: waiter uniforms, table décor, drink list. It feels as though we will never be done.
Until, finally we are.
I've invited some of my friends and family along with some of Ferit's to test out our menu and our service the week before opening day. If anything goes wrong, we will at least have a little bit of time to adjust before we are really in business.
But, I'm nervous to fail in front of everyone I love and respect so as much as I want to approach this night as an inconsequential trial run, I am unable to relax. I can't have any of my friends poisoned at my restaurant.
I'll be in the kitchen all night, but I greet my guests as they walk in. Ferit and Bulut are the first to arrive and my sweet baby boy immediately demands that I pick him up, having missed me this past week. He's dressed in a little tux and bowtie and has never looked more adorable.
I give him a big kiss on the cheek as I bounce him on my hip. "Are you excited to eat my food, kid?"
"Yes!" He says with a smile throwing his hands in the air. His happiness eases my nerves. At least I know I cannot disappoint him.
Ferit leans in to kiss me, wishing me good luck, and then grabs Bulut from my arms to take their seat. I watch him walk away, taking a moment to appreciate how well-fitted the suit he is wearing is.
Yasmin and Ozan arrive at almost the same time and appear to be in a battle to see who can be more enthusiastic. My aunt wishes me good luck in her usual, serious way, reminding me of how proud my parents would be. I smile at her thoughtfulness, grateful for her presence as I always am.
Laila greets me with a big hug which I hold for a while, celebrating this moment with her. I finally release her and try to push my emotions back down. As always, big moments are slightly sad.
I've seated Ferit and Bulut at a table with his old college roommate, Jeremy. Laila and her fiancé are with my aunt and some cousins. And my friends and their respective dates are each at their own tables. It's strange to see the place filled with patrons after only seeing it empty for so long.
When all the guests seem settled, I make a short speech thanking them for their time and head into the kitchen. Soon the orders start coming and the chaos begins. Now, I am in my element. No time to think, only do. I've worked in kitchens for enough years to turn on auto-pilot, commanding my staff expertly. It's so much more fun now that I have control over every dish that goes out the door and with every passing moment, my confidence grows. I'm certain we are nailing it.
We have set up an anonymous review process to try to encourage the people in my life to be as brutal as they can. But, in the end, it's mostly a success, save a few kinks that we can easily work out. I am so proud of myself I could walk on air.
The night flows into a party to celebrate. Deniz and her band take the stage after we clear the tables to make room for a small dance floor. A bartender appears to helm the bar and I emerge out of the kitchen, dressed to the nines.
Ferit is the first person I want to share my success with and he is beaming at me, watching as I approach. I hug him, too aware of my family's eyes on me to start making out with my man as I would have liked. But, he kisses me on the cheek and pulls me close and butterflies erupt in my stomach. I can sense how proud he is of me without him even having to say it. Eventually, I leave his arms to chat with the rest of my guests.
"You did so good, didi." Laila squeals as I join her at her table. My family joins in with more praise as I blush in embarrassment.
"Yes, it went well I think." I'm still afraid to jinx it, but I could not be happier. It was only a few months ago that I had felt trapped in a position and now I had my own restaurant. I couldn't believe how much I had accomplished in such a short time.
I look for Emre and find him standing aside, reviewing something on his clipboard. As annoying as I find him, I feel sad that he is off alone and probably still working. I stand, excusing myself from my family and walk over to him.
"Emre. You should stay for the party." He eyes me warily as if to question why his foe is being nice to him. I smile good naturedly. "Come on, we deserve to celebrate. You've worked so hard, I wouldn't be here without you. Thank you." He smiles a little bashfully at my praise and I feel a rush of affection towards him that I had not seen coming. My wonderfully competent, anal-retentive Emre. He's almost family at this point.
"Come on." I repeat, leading him to the dance floor. Deniz and her band have started playing and I see a few people standing to dance. He follows me, but remains a little shy amongst the group of foreign people I leave him with. I sidle up to my cousin and whisper into her ear, "Can you take care of him? I have hope that he will irritate you less than he does me." My cousin has far more patience than I.
She laughs and goes to chat with him, the angel that she is. With Emre sorted, I look around for my husband, needing to be with him again. I find him leaning against the bar, waiting for my eyes to meet his, and the rest of the room fades. He's looking at me with such admiration, I have to look down, overcome by the force of it. He starts walking over to me now that he knows I want his attention.
"Will you dance with me?" He asks, holding out his hand. I smile as I place my hand in his.
As we walk to the dance floor, Ferit gestures at Deniz to play something slower. She rolls her eyes and agrees. The whole floor stops their dancing to transition to swaying, the single people pairing up with one another, laughing.
Ferit pull me in close and I give in to the urge to lay my head against his chest. In all the excitement, I have forgotten my exhaustion, but this week's work hours has finally caught up to me. But, I can always count on Ferit to hold me up.
I can feel him playing with my hair and I hum softly in delight as we turn, barely going through the motions of dance.
"My wife. You are so beautiful." He whispers into my ear, causing a shiver to run up my spine.
I pull away to look at him, rolling my eyes, but smiling despite myself. "Ever the charmer. I'm already in love with you, you know."
"But I can't have that changing." He smirks, justifying his compliments.
I chuckle lightly and lean back onto this chest. "No danger of that." I whisper. He pulls me in tighter placing a kiss on my hair.
Bulut runs up and loudly interrupts. "Sejal Yenge! I want to see the kitchen!"
I laugh, the words bringing me back to that disaster of a night in the restaurant that had led me here. I meet Ferit's eyes and we share a small smile, remembering together. Really, without Bulut's insistence, I might not have my own restaurant right now. Decisions are sometimes made for the most unexpected reasons.
"Of course, kid. This is my place now – I make the rules." And to make it easier, nobody was trying to cook meals for dozens of customers at the moment. Ferit trails behind as the two of us walk into the kitchen. Bulut immediately goes crazy with excitement, wanting to touch everything. I have to hold him back, trying to protect both my sweet baby boy and my beautiful kitchen.
"Let's make mom's cake Sejal!" He exclaims, despite the fact that it is far, far past his bedtime. I look at Ferit warily, but he just shrugs. There are no rules tonight.
I wonder absently whether I should bid my guests goodnight now if Bulut and I are going to stay in the kitchen long enough to make a cake, but I trust they know the extent of my gratitude. They are likely too inebriated to notice our absence anyway. I pull out the ingredients as Bulut clanks the bowls on the counter, entertaining himself while he waits.
"What is this technique, kid." I ask, pointing to his bowl slapping.
"I'm making the bowls ready!" He squeals, seemingly convinced his logic is airtight. I chuckle and pull out my own bowl to mix ingredients, protecting it from Bulut's violent hands. He's definitely overtired, but at this point, we're just committing to entertaining him until he crashes.
I try to engage Bulut in the process as much as I can while still making a good cake, asking him to stir and measure things under careful supervision. Of course, this results in a large mess, but I plan to worry about that later. We enlist Ferit as well who looks confused at the mere idea of a spatula, but does his best to be helpful, if only to prevent Bulut's destruction.
Against all odds, the cake makes it into the oven and now there is only the wait. I turn back to my boys after closing the oven and take a moment to observe them, the scene warming my heart. There is nothing cuter than the two of them together.
Bulut is crashing fast, but trying to fight it. He clings to Ferit, demanding his constant attention which his uncle happily gives. Ferit looks up at me, catching me watching them, but Bulut is not happy with his distraction. "Dayi! You're not looking!" He turns back apologetic as Bulut tugs on his jacket.
"Sorry, aslan benim. I'm looking."
I consider how we are going to get this kid to sleep after all this stimulation. "Ferit, it's probably time to go home." I say, hoping the car ride lulls our sweet baby boy to sleep.
Ferit nods, well aware that we on the brink of a meltdown. I make the heartbreaking decision to abandon the cake, turning the oven off, popping the batter in the freezer to be baked later.
Ferit caries a whiny Bulut to the car as I wave a quick goodbye to a few of my lingering friends. They start to gather their things to leave as well so that Emre can lock up. I wave apologetically at him, but Emre nods in understanding. I am once again filled with gratitude to have him in my life, though I'm sure he will soon cause that feeling to disappear.
Ferit has situated Bulut in his car seat by the time I catch up to them and I can tell Bulut is nodding off. A few minutes in the car is sure to do the trick.
Sure enough, before we can even pull out of the parking lot, Bulut is dead asleep. I smile at the sight of his angelic face, finally defeated by fatigue.
Ferit reaches over to grab my hand as he drives and I lock my fingers in his. "You did a great job."
I beam at his praise.
"I know." I respond cheekily to his amusement. He brings my hand up to his lips to give it a kiss before dropping it entirely to put both hands on the wheel. He knows I can get a little nervous about driving.
I feel such peace as we drive home in silence. My life feels full in a way it hadn't only a few months ago. Nothing is as I expected, and yet I can't think of what else to ask for. The feeling scares me. It feels dangerous to take it for granted that everything will continue to be this good.
I glance at Ferit looking for the comfort he always provides when I start to overthink things. I admire his profile for a moment, taking in his sheer beauty. He smirks a little as he feels my gaze on him, but stays quiet.
I realize that for the first time in a long time, it feels as if my life is ahead of me, instead of behind me. I'm excited for what's to come more than I yearn to return to a simpler time.
"My mother would have loved you." I say, out of the blue.
Ferit looks a little surprised at my comment, but plays along. "Oh really? Why?"
"Because you made me marry you."
He's clearly not expecting that answer because he lets out a shocked laugh. "That's all it takes?" I appreciate his use of present tense, as if she is still watching us.
I shrug, putting on airs. "It wasn't so easy to marry me, if you recall."
"You're right. So she would be happy to see I match your stubbornness?"
I laugh at how right he is. "Or horrified."
He laughs as well, but then asks a bit more seriously, "And your father?"
I smile at him, the memory of my kind father suddenly so fresh in my mind it almost brings me to tears. "Well I love you, so he would have probably been highly suspicious."
He can tell I'm deflecting, but he smiles fondly at me, accepting my joke. "I would have won him over." He says, confident.
"You would have." I nod, no doubt in my mind. I close my eyes, feeling their presence in the sharp pain that still sometimes accompanies talking about them. But, I'm always happy to have them with me, especially on a night like this. Ferit, Bulut, Laila, and them. I have everyone I need.
THE END
A/N: Thank you to all who read this story - my first ever! - especially to those who left comments, etc. I am so grateful for your support and encouragement :)
Merry Christmas to those that celebrate and happy new year !