As I browse the menu at the Happy China restaurant, one entrée takes me back to my early teen years. Moo Goo Gai Pan. Oh my gosh, I remember that! Dad’s favorite dish every time he ordered our family Chinese food for dinner after Sunday night church service.
He always ordered a couple of other items too; I try to recall them. Chicken Fried Rice comes to mind. That’s two; I know there was another one. I rack my brain; it escapes me, but I’ll know it if I see it.
I continue down the menu and see Egg Foo Young and Chow Mein. Oh yeah, those too, but Dad didn’t always order them.
I turn the menu over and see it near the bottom: Sweet and Sour Pork. Yes, that’s it!
A few moments later, the waitress arrives at my table with a tablet in hand. “Ready to order, sir?”
I tell her what I want and remember to add a root beer. Something my dad also ordered with Chinese, he did love his root beer.
She brings my drink and disappears into the kitchen. I answer emails and texts on my phone while I wait.
A few minutes later, she sets a steaming plate piled high with food on the table with chopsticks; it smells wonderful, and my mouth waters at the tantalizing sight.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
“A few more napkins,” I say, “I’m kind of a messy eater. Thank you.”
“Here you go, sir.” She smiles, hands me a bundle of napkins from her apron, and goes to wait on another table. I say a quick prayer and dig in with the chopsticks.
Oh my! Flavors I haven’t tasted in years trigger memories of long ago, when life was happy and carefree. The light, savory sauce, tender chicken, and crisp vegetables of the Moo Goo Gai Pan. The tangy sauce, pineapple, and battered pork chunks of the Sweet and Sour Pork. The fluffy rice dotted with pieces of chicken and crunchy vegetables of the Chicken Fried Rice.
Dad sits across from me, laughing and cracking jokes as we eat. Mom sits next to him, ever gentle and beautiful, nodding supportively. To my right and left sit my two brothers and sister, sometimes annoying, but always there when I need them most. We eat and laugh and tease each other as we enjoy our time together.
I savor the memories of family as I savor my food. Before long, I’ve cleaned my plate and set my chopsticks down. The restaurant buzzes with infectious energy; families chatter, children laugh, dishes clatter, and waitresses hurry from table to table.
I look at the empty chairs at my table. For just a little while, they were filled. It’s been a long time since we shared a meal together. How I miss them. But somehow, it doesn’t feel so long ago anymore.
I finish my root beer, pay my tab, and silently thank Dad for the memories.
500-word flash fiction
