Hell's Kitchen

Just when she was feeling good about hating him again she couldn't. She wanted to, but her better self wouldn't let her.

"Do you have a family to support?" she asked in a gentler tone of voice.

"I do. My mom isn't doing well, and I take care of her. It's not the same as a child, I know, but I needed the job, too."

"Is...is she ill?" Felicia asked not wanting to know the answer as she felt guilty for being so judgmental.

"She is. Very. She has...ALS," Noah told her. It wasn't a request for pity, it was just a statement of fact.

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry."

"Me, too. She's still able to talk, but she can't get up anymore or really even feed herself. Her insurance pays for some things, but it isn't nearly enough."

"Don't I feel like an ass...idiot," Felicia said.

"Why? I took your job, and the only reason I got hired is because my uncle's sister is dying. I'd hate me, too," Noah told her.

"I don't...hate you," she said sincerely.

She looked at him then said, "Well, not anymore."

She tried to smile which cause Noah to smile.

"You're a very nice person, Felicia, and I appreciate that."

"Thank you. I haven't exactly been all that nice to you, but I promise to make up for it from now on."

"Hmmm. Nice and beautiful," he added with a genuine smile.

"Thank you, again, Noah. It was very sweet of you to say. Speaking of sweet, I have a daughter waiting for me. She's asleep, of course, but my mom is home watching her, so I really need to get going."

"Yeah. Sure. Of course," he said.

After Felicia unlocked her door with the key fob, Noah reached around and opened it for her.

"Just in case you still have just a smidgeon of hate for me left inside," he told her with another smile.

"I do apologize for jumping to conclusions. We all have our crosses to bear, and all I could think of was how heavy mine was. This really put things in perspective for me."

"I don't envy you, either. I can't imagine raising a child alone. But I can tell your daughter is very lucky to have such a great mom."

"Sometimes I wonder, but again—thank you," she said as she got in.

"Felicia?" he asked just before closing the door.

She looked up at him and waited.

"Would you ever maybe want to, you know, maybe go get a cup of coffee or something sometime?"

She looked at him then narrowed her eyes and said, "We serve some of the best coffee in town right here."

"True. I just thought maybe you might like to um...maybe um...you know..."

"Are you asking me out?" she said, her voice filled with incredulity.

"Um, no. Not really. I was just thinking it might be nice to talk to the one person who's been...kind to me," he told her.

"Oh, I...I guess I just assumed. Sorry. I'm not thinking very clearly. That was a ridiculous assumption."

"Okay, in all honesty I was asking you out. But it's just coffee so it's no big deal, right?" he admitted.

"Wait. So you are asking me out?" Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she looked at him.

"I was, but if you'd rather not, I'd much rather you just say 'no thanks' rather than..."

Before he could finish his thought, Felicia asked, "Why in the world would someone who your age who looks like you want to go out with someone who looks like...well, someone who's my age?"

His reply caught her off guard, as he smiled and said, "Finding girls to go out with is easy. Finding someone I respect and can trust isn't. I already respect you and I feel like I can trust you. I was thinking if perhaps you could learn to trust me..."

"What? That we'd get married and ride off into the sunset?" she said in a polite-yet-mildly sarcastic kind of way.

"No. No sunset. Just maybe live happily ever after," he told her with a sheepish grin.

Felicia had to laugh again then said, "Good night, Noah. Or rather, good morning."

He closed her door then waited for her to leave before going over to his own car and heading home not knowing what new developments he might come home to where his Mom was concerned.

Noah had done a lot of reading about ALS and knew that at some point, his mom would begin having difficulty swallowing. It was called 'bulbar onset' and it often caused other problems with the respiratory system. Those whose first symptoms were bulbar in nature tended to be on the lower end of an already short life expectancy range of 2-5 years. Yes, there were exceptions to the rule like the late Professor Stephen Hawking, but most patients died within the expectancy parameters, and his mom had been diagnosed just over 18 months ago and was fading quickly.

He also knew that ALS patients were in full possession of their mental faculties and fully aware of what was happening while helpless to stop the disease's relentless progression. He'd tried to imagine laying there fully conscious, unable to move, and near the end, unable to even swallow, and feeling like he was drowning in his own saliva.

He shook off the feeling as he pulled into the driveway of his mom's home then went inside to check on her. There were no discernible changes, but Noah understood that his mom's motor neuron disease was slowly but surely killing her by destroying her muscles ability to function one cell at a time.

"Hey there," she said as best as she could when he walked in.

"Hi. Can I get you anything?" he asked knowing not ask her how she was doing.

"I just want to talk to you while I still can," she told him in a voice that was already weak with some letters no longer being clear and distinct.

"Okay. Sure," he said sitting down next to her.

"Please don't interrupt me, okay?"

Immediately concerned, Noah only said, "I won't."

"I can no longer get up. Before long, I won't be able to even move. My speech will be completely gone soon, too. Very soon, I'll need full-time care."

Breaking his promise Noah said, "Then we'll hire a nurse."

His mother, Grace Phillips, held up her hand with great effort and shook her head.

"No. That's what I wanted to talk about," she told him.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Go ahead," Noah said as he strained to understand every tortured word his mother spoke.

"I don't want to live like that, Noah. I don't want you watching me waste away into nothing. I...I want to take control of this while I still can," she said staring into his eyes.

"Mom. Don't talk that way, okay? We have options. We can..."

She shook her head the slightest little bit and said, "No. There aren't options, plural. There's only one option. For me, at least."

"Are you thinking about..."

"Assisted suicide? Yes. I am. And before you start in, it isn't your decision to make. You understand that, right?" she said, every word an exercise in itself.

"Yes, but what if they..."

"Come up with a cure? Please. People have said that for as long as ALS has been ravaging human beings. Maybe one day. Maybe years from now. But so few people have it that it gets no real funding or research. Money goes to heart disease and cancer and rightly so. No one wants to die, Noah. But sometimes living is a fate worse than death. Living with ALS is just that."

Noah had been a U.S. Marine, but he'd been a cook. He's closest brush with death was a bad case of ptomaine poisoning in a field mess they'd set up out in the desert in Yuma, Arizona, during a six-week, Marine Corps version of Top Gun called WTI or Weapons and Tactics Instructor's Course.

He'd never been in combat or heard a shot fired in anger. Even so, he thought he was a pretty tough guy until he sat there feeling helpless knowing his mom was right. Asking her to go on living for him so he could feel good about himself wasn't just wrong, it was immoral.

He'd never given any real thought to assisted suicide before, and what little passing thought he'd given was minimal. He believed life was precious and valuable but not 'sacred' and now that push had come to shove, he knew that each individual had to have the right to die on their own terms.

He would always oppose euthanasia where some doctor or panel of bureaucrats made life or death decisions for others, but the individual should have the right to make that decision for him or herself. He was also no fan of government-run healthcare. The Veteran's Administration or VA was a perfect example of a horribly inefficient system, and the last thing he wanted was for everyone to share in that kind of misery.

He didn't remember when or where he heard it, but a saying of Winston Churchill's came to mind that said: "The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings; the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked as he shook off those thoughts.

It took her several minutes to say what would normally take maybe a minute to say, but he understood.

"Okay. I'll take you there tomorrow," he promised. "But we have to go before work, okay?"

"Oh, yes. Work. How was your first day with my baby brother?" she asked trying to smile even though she no longer could.

"Let's just say I'm glad it's over and leave it at that."

She was too weak to reply, but he knew she understood. Outside of the kitchen, Daryl was a wonderful human being. But at work, his desire for perfection was so strong it crowded out all of his good points and turned into what Noah would call either a raging asshole or possibly a dick with feet. Either one seemed equally fitting.

When he shared both of those names for her brother with his mom, she came as close to laughing as she could. That she couldn't only reinforced his growing belief she might be right.

Assisted suicide was now legal in Washington, or Washington 'State' as the rest of the country called it. So before he left for work the next day, his mother had what she needed to live and later die with dignity. She wasn't ready to go yet, but now she had the ability to live without the fear of getting to the point where she was no longer in control. She wished her nephew a good day and told him to tell her brother to be nice or she'd drag herself down there and teach him a lesson in manners.

"I'd pay to watch, Mom," he told her before kissing her on the cheek. "You call me immediately if you need me, okay?"

She couldn't hold a cell phone, but she could still turn it on and press the 'call' button, and Grace insisted on being independent long after Noah felt that was wise.

"Oh, sure," she said trying to sound positive but barely able to speak.

He'd been in 'Hell's Kitchen' an hour before Felicia came in and had already endured a tongue lashing and a half dozen on-the-spot corrections. When Noah saw her, he'd forgotten about how foolish he'd felt when she hadn't taken his offer seriously very early that morning. He was well aware he was a lot younger than her, but he'd only asked her to have coffee, not marry him.

As she walked by, she didn't see him, but most definitely saw her. He'd dated, or rather hooked up with, more than a few attractive women, so it wasn't like Felicia was the most beautiful girl, or in her case, woman, he'd ever seen. It was more that she was quite likely the most attractive with 'attractive' being defined as...well, maybe...desirable. But not in some lurid, physical way. She was a woman who exuded class and charm, but she wasn't the least bit pretentious. She was just very appealing and therefore...desirable.

There was most definitely a physical component to be sure, but Noah found himself very attracted to her for reasons he couldn't quite explain. But the attraction was there and until she told him 'no' in no uncertain terms, he was going to keep trying to get her attention and hopefully win her trust.

And yet he had to ask himself, that were he able to do that...then what?

The 'what' was something he could worry about later. For now he was content to take in her long, silky, soft, dark hair along with her very tight waist and amazingly tight butt as she walked on by.

"What the hell are you staring at?" both he and Felicia heard.

"How much am I paying you to gaze at Felicia's ass?" Daryl roared.

She whirled around and saw Noah quickly look down at whatever he was preparing as though he was guilty.

"Good afternoon, Noah!" she said with a cheerful-but-smug while waiting for him to look back up.

When he did, she was still smiling and kept smiling until he said, "Oh, hello."

Felicia stood there for another moment trying to figure him out. He was extremely good looking, and most guys who looked that good were also self-confident to the point of cockiness, a trait she loathed in men. But Noah had a kind of shyness about him that didn't fit with his external appearance.

And then she remembered his offer to have coffee sometime. As tempting as that might be, there was no possible future with someone that young, and being a co-worker just made things that much more difficult. Keeping some distance between them seemed not only reasonable but prudent as she turned around and went to put her things away.

Felicia rarely interacted with Noah for the next several days and then really only for business as they discussed an order or some special request. That wasn't the case with his uncle The Chef, who was all over his nephew day in and day out.

On the fifth day since he'd essentially asked her out, Felicia was a bit surprised to see him outside when she left around 2:15 in the morning. He was leaning up against the building just staring up at the stars, something that wasn't possible most nights in that part of the country due to the ever-present cloud cover.

"You okay?" she asked as she stepped outside and saw him.

"Huh? Oh, sure," he said when he caught sight of her.

"That didn't sound convincing," she said pleasantly.

"Sorry. I don't want to dump my problems on you."

"Oh, I see. Your uncle. I get it," she told him.

"Uncle Daryl? Sorry. I mean—Chef Phillips? No. It's not him. I can deal with him. As a matter of fact, I'm learning so much it's scary. I gotta hand it to him, the man knows cooking."

Felicia could sense something was really troubling him and since it was unseasonably warm for early September she didn't mind stopping and talking. The weather would turn cold any day now and stay that way until the following June, so this was very pleasant indeed.

"I um...I didn't mean to ignore you when you, you know, asked me to have coffee with you. I just didn't think it was a good idea," she finally told him.

"That's okay. I understand," he said back. "I'm just this...kid to you. Some upstart who took your job. A guy who has no real business being in the kitchen let alone as the sous chef when there's someone else in there with more talent."

He finally smiled at her then said, "I'm neither blind nor stupid, Felicia."

"I have a few minutes. If you want to talk, that is," Felicia told him.

"No, that's okay. It's really personal, and you have your um...your own cross to bear, right?"

"Using my words against me?" she asked sweetly.

"No. Not at all. I meant that sincerely. I'm sure you have more than enough on your plate without me adding to it."

"Okay. But if you decide you'd like to talk, please let me know, okay?" she told him sincerely.

"I would like to talk, I just don't feel like I should burden you with all this," he replied.

She glanced at her wristwatch then said, "Come on. Let's go back inside and sit down in the break room."

"Are you sure?" Noah asked hoping she was.

"Not really, but...I guess I trust you enough to sit down and talk," she said with just a touch of playfulness.

Five minutes later, Felicia understood.

"My goodness. That's so awful, Noah. Has she decided when yet?"

Felicia was very delicate in posing the question as she tried to imagine being in his shoes. What if her mom told her she planned to take her own life and had asked her to help her do it? Could she? Would she?

"Noah, my heart is breaking for you," she finally told him.

"Oh, no. I'm fine. It's my mom. Mine is breaking for her. I know this is the right thing, I just can't stand the thought of it."

"I get it," Felicia told him. "Assisted suicide is legal here now, but your mom is the first person I've heard of actually contemplating it. I...I don't envy you."

"It is, but it just feels so wrong, you know? How am I supposed to sit there and hold her hand while she drinks this...this potion...that's going to kill her? We're supposed to protect life not take it, right?"

Felicia thought back to three years ago when they'd had to put their family dog down. She knew she'd be there to hold him as he died, she just didn't know how awful it would be. His eyes rolled up then he turned toward her as though he was saying, "You're the only person who can help me. Please save me!"

And yet she was the one who'd given the okay to take his life. His body was racked with cancer and he was in terrible pain, but at that very moment, it had torn her heart out no matter how much she knew she was doing the right thing. And Noah was being asked to assist in doing this with a human being; the woman who'd given birth to him and loved him. Someone he loved enough to give up his freedom to care for.

"Would you like me to be there for you?" Felicia heard herself saying before she realized it and was already wishing she hadn't.

"I can't ask you to do that," he said finally looking at her. "Thank you for offering though."

Trying to lighten the mood, Felicia said, "After blowing you off about having coffee, offering was the least I could do."

"Or you could reconsider," Noah offered now trying to smile. "About the coffee."

"I don't know, Noah. I mean, we work together, and I'm, well, I'm not exactly your age or even close so..."

"I forgive you," he said trying to be serious.

"You forgive me?" she asked sitting up straight.

"Yes. It's not your fault you were born a year or two before me," he said even more seriously.

Felicia made a loud 'pffft' sound then said, "You mean a decade or two before, right?"

"Oh, so now it's my fault, huh?" Noah said keeping up the shtick. "Okay, fine. Be that way."

Felicia couldn't help but laugh before sighing loudly then saying, "Okay. Coffee. One time. But that's it. Deal?"

"Deal," Noah said finally smiling and offering his hand to shake.

Felicia gave him the eye before taking it and once they shook hands, Noah said, "Deal on the coffee. Not on the 'one time' thing. That's TBD."

"TBD?" she asked.

"Sorry. To Be Determined. As in...it depends. As in...we'll see how things go. Once we..."

"Okay, okay. I get it," she said trying not to laugh again.

"When's your next day off?" he asked.

"Hah! Like you don't know," she said pretending to be bothered. "I saw you looking at the schedule."

"Fine. You caught me. But can you blame me?" Noah asked.

"Yes. I can blame you. But I won't. At least not yet," she informed him. "If the coffee isn't any good, then I'll blame you."

"The gauntlet has been thrown down. Okay. No problem. I do love a good challenge."

"Challenge? You'd have to have some chance of winning something for it to be a challenge. This is a one-time thing. One cup and we're done. That's it."

"You still didn't tell me when your day off is," he reminded her.

Felicia sighed then smiled.

"The day after tomorrow," she said much more quietly as she picked up her things again.

"Okay. I'm looking forward to it," he told her.

"Well, that makes one of us," she said trying to sound snooty but not pulling it off too well.

"I'm gonna win you over, Felicia. That's a promise."

"Sounds more like a case of mental delusion," she quipped as she headed out.

"Nope. Sane and sound," he called out as she walked away. "You'll see."

"Gee. Lucky me," she said as she walked out without him.

She was just getting to her car and digging out her keys when she heard the sound of footsteps running her way, causing her to shriek.