Eat My Heart Out

I keep glancing left over at Frank. He’s eaten all his vegetables and even taken seconds, but he’s barely touched his pork chop. He cut a piece out of it, which he then cut into smaller pieces, but that’s about as far as he’s gone.

I glance over and he pokes at one of the tiny pieces of meat. It’s nothing, but apparently enough for him.

At least he’s eating a lot of vegetables.

“Frank?” I glance up at mom quickly, before I stare down at my plate. She’s smiling, but her eyes show a fraction of the worry that I feel.
“Don’t you like the pork chop?” she asks carefully, almost with a tinge of hurt in her voice.

I hear Frank breathe out a quick, heavy breath. I focus on cutting out my last asparagus to keep my mind from any making hasty conclusions.

He doesn’t wanna eat meat anymore. He doesn’t like hurting animals.

“Uhm,” Frank says uneasy. On instinct, I let go of my fork and place my hand on his knee underneath the table. I softly rub the bone on the side of his knee. I don’t feel it as much as I did three weeks ago, but it’s still there.
“I kinda don’t wanna eat it,” he says slowly – hesitantly.

“Why, sweetie?”

I keep running my thumb over his knee, while I poke at a tomato with my knife.

“Is it okay if I became a vegetarian?” I slowly run the knife all the way through the tomato, until the juice runs out onto the plate.
“I promise to help you cook. I can make my own meals and all, and I promise that I’ll eat twice as much as I am now, but I just-“ he stops abruptly in his speech, and everything goes silent until he continues his sentence. Until he tells us all the reason for his choice.

Promise me it’s the only reason.

“I just can’t eat animals anymore.” His voice is laced with sadness, from the first to the last syllable. I squeeze his knee once and cut my tomato in two. I stab the one side of it and stuff it in my mouth, chewing it intently.

“Oh,” mom says and lets out a small laugh. I stop chewing and look up at her.
“Well. That’s okay, sweetie.” She’s smiling widely and I loosen up my face.
“As long as you take care of yourself, help me in the kitchen and eat some more,” she says and pushes the dish of vegetables closer to Frank.

I look over at him to see him smiling widely. He looks relieved, proud and happy.

Promise me it’s the only reason.