The Colour of Milk Chocolate

It took every ounce of will-power I could muster to walk into this restaurant and make my way to the patio. The happy memories of this place cut so deep that I almost got up and left after just a few minutes. But I couldn’t do that– I needed to hear what he had to say.

Trying to quieten the anxiety rising in my chest, I concentrated on the ambient music playing from the patio speakers while watching the children playing in the distance.

The sweet notes of soft Jazz, mixing with the joyful sound of Children laughing was comforting in some way.

They were playing in the park beside the restaurant, chasing the ducks around the wading pool as their parents chased them.

It was another perfect summer day in a perfect small town. The sounds of quacking ducks and happy children filled the air as a blue sky dotted with marshmallow clouds painted a tapestry overhead. The scent of lilacs wafting up from the park mixed with the smell of baked goods being pulled from the ovens enveloped the patio and brought back memories of happier times.

It was one of those days when you appreciated the simple things in life, the things that really mattered, the only things that were truly important. Like the beauty of nature and love of family.

I watched a happy father down by the river, feeding the ducks with his young daughter as she squealed with joy. It brought tears to my eyes as I thought about the last time I was here.

This was the future I saw when I looked into Andrea’s eyes that night on this same patio.

This was our go-to place after watching a movie at the old main street cinema. We would order Betty’s homemade chocolate cake and a large root beer with crushed ice and two long straws. Then sit on the patio at the farthest table from the door and hold hands as we planned our future.

We were in love, and even though we were only eighteen, we planned to spend the rest of our lives together. At least that's what I thought was the plan. But everything changed when I received the text message from Andrea that ripped my heart out.

The confusion caused by that text is still with me today, almost four years later.

“I’m so sorry, Robbie, but I couldn’t tell you this to your face. Please forgive me for my lack of courage. Our family is moving to California in two weeks, and I'll be attending university there. I know we talked about a future together, but now with all the changes happening in my life, I feel I’m too young to make that kind of commitment. I need to see where life leads me. You're a wonderful person, and I'm so sorry, but I need to do this. Please don't try to contact me as my decision is made. I wish you nothing but happiness in your future. Goodbye, Robbie.”

I tried for the next several days to contact her, but she would never answer my calls. A few days before she moved, I panicked and knocked on her door. Her father, who had always been nice to me, answered the door enraged and told me to stay away from his daughter or he would call the police.

I stumbled home heartbroken and didn't leave my house for two weeks. For several weeks after she left, I would break down every time someplace or something would remind me of her. The place that held my most cherished memories was the restaurant, and I had difficulty walking past it. It was our place, the place where we shared our souls with each other.

This table on this patio at this restaurant held our memories and our secrets. It was where we celebrated our accomplishments and our birthdays. It was where we first professed our love for each other and where we came after giving our virginity to each other. That was the best night of my life. Not because of the sex, which was clumsy at best, but the oneness we felt after sharing our first times.

We laughed and joked about what our children would look like as we devoured our chocolate cake. We seemed to be a little more than hungry that night. The cake was the best in town as Betty added something to the milk chocolate icing that made it taste like a slice of heaven. Andrea made me laugh when she said that our kid's eyes would be the colour of the cake. She had dark brown eyes that could melt your heart, and my eyes that were the lightest shade of brown would mix with hers and give our kids milk chocolate eyes.

I left town three months after she left and didn’t return for over three years. I couldn't get her out of my mind as there were just too many memories here. That's why I jumped at the opportunity when my uncle, David, said he could get me a job working on an oil rig on the coast of Venezuela.

I had to go to Florida for three months of training, after which I joined my uncle and his crew on the rig. The job paid great money and had great benefits, so I spent the next three years travelling from one oil rig to another. I spent those years chasing the money from Venezuela to Florida to South Africa and finally to Newfoundland on the Canadian coast.

I worked one month on and one month off on the rig in Canada, and as my family had moved to Toronto after I left home, it worked out perfectly. I would spend my month off with my family and then fly back to the rig.

Last week I was on my first week of a month off in Toronto when I got the call that brought me here today. The call was from Terry, Andrea's cousin, telling me that he needed me to come to town as there was something important that I needed to know. I told him I wasn’t interested in going back there and, I had to be back on the rig in a couple of weeks.

He changed my mind when he said it was about Andrea. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about but said this had to be done face to face.

I agreed when I heard her name and flew in last night. I needed to know what was happening and braced myself for the worst possible news when I called him this morning. We agreed to meet at the restaurant at two, where it would become clear why this couldn’t be done over the phone.

I arrived about ten minutes early, and after twenty minutes and two coffees, I was getting concerned. “Why was he late? What’s going on here? Is this some kind of elaborate joke?”

Feeling out of sorts and confused, I decided I had enough and stood to leave, but as I did, the waiter came and placed a drink on my table.

I said, “Sorry, but I didn’t order anything. I’m just getting ready to leave.”

He smiled and replied, "Sorry, sir, but the drink is from the lady inside."

My heart skipped a beat when I looked at the drink for the first time and saw it was a large root beer with two long straws. Nobody knew about our drink, nobody but Andrea and me. Just as her name formed in my mind, she walked through the door towards me.

She looked the same as the last time I saw her. If anything, she was even more beautiful now. I started to feel weak and had to sit down. I stared at her as she sat across from me and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. I was in shock and feeling all kinds of emotions. I wanted to yell obscenities at her and pull her into my arms at the same time.

I could manage just one word, “Why?”

She had tears in her eyes when she answered, "I'm sorry, Robbie. I never wanted it to happen. I had no choice back then."

The pain she caused me rose to the surface, forcing me to lose control and reply in anger, “What? You’re sorry? You never wanted it to happen? Your text ripped my heart out, Andrea; you know how much I loved you. I’ve been running from that text for three years.”

I could see the hurt in her eyes as my tears joined hers and calmed down before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to yell at you. It was a long time ago. I just don’t understand why. Why would you do that to me? I know in my heart you felt the same as I did. What happened?”

"Robbie, this is going to be very difficult for me to say and for you to hear. So please let me finish before you say anything. Ok?"

I could see her hands trembling as she spoke, so I agreed not to speak until she finished, no matter how hard that would be.

She told me a story that changed my life in every possible way. She said that she didn't write that text, but her father did. I was going to ask why but her next sentence answered that question and changed everything.

"I was pregnant, Robbie, and didn't know what to do. I needed my family, but my father threatened to throw me out. He blamed you, but I told him that I was to blame too, which made him even angrier. I was so scared and so young I just did what I was told. Mom was on my side, and it caused a major rift between my parents, which eventually led to their divorce."

She stopped and started sobbing, so I took her hands and asked,

"Why didn't you call me? You knew I would do anything to help; you were my world."

"I did call, Robbie. After dad left I tried to find you, but your phone was changed, and your parents had moved. Nobody knew where you were. I've been trying to find you for almost three years. It's like you just disappeared."

She was full-on crying now, so I stood and pulled her into my arms, holding her tight until she started to regain control.

I thought my heart would burst when she pulled back and looked into my eyes, saying,

"I love you, Robbie. I've never stopped loving you."

I could barely get enough breath to speak, "I love you too. You've always been the only one."

We talked for several minutes in each other’s arms before Andrea said, “There’s someone I want you to meet,” and waved at someone in the park.

I looked towards where she was waving and saw the father and daughter that were feeding the ducks wave back and walk towards us.

I felt an incredible sense of warmth spread through me as they approached and saw that the man was Andrea's cousin Terry. He was holding the hand of a smiling little girl, who held a handful of purple flowers and looked exactly like Andrea.

Andrea held her arms out as the little girl jumped into them and squealed, “Mommy.”

She held her close to me and said,

"Honey, I want you to meet my good friend, Robbie. And Robbie, I want you to meet the most beautiful little girl in the world, Roberta."

I knew my life would never be the same when I looked into that little girl’s eyes. She had the most incredible eyes I had ever seen. They were big and sparkling with wonder and were the colour of milk chocolate.

Terry left so we could be alone as we sat at the table, staring at each other.

Roberta spoke first and said, "Is this the place, Mommy? Are we going to get the best chocolate cake in the world now?"

Andrea pulled a long straw from her pocket and dropped it into the root beer on the table, which now had three straws before saying,

" Yes, honey, this is the place, and yes, we're going to have the best cake in the world. But before that, we're going to share the best root beer in the world, and Mommy and Robbie are going to tell you the best story you will ever hear."