Sex & Sourdough (31 page)

“Having a degree doesn’t mean you would have to practice law,” Michael pointed out. “Look at Cole.”

Cole was four years younger than Michael but working for a financial firm, his salary was already several times what Michael earned, and his year-end bonuses were often more than his salary. Cole liked to gloat about it, and Michael never acted like he was anything other than proud of his little brother.

“Or there’s public interest law, or nonprofit management,” Reverend Bowman supplied, trying to be helpful.

“Nope,” Anders insisted. “I’ve discovered I’m a lot happier doing something hands-on. I don’t want to be stuck in an office all day. I’ll find a job, and I’ll make ends meet. I don’t need enough money for a Lexus or a huge house, and if I can save up enough to go into business for myself, I know I’ll be happy with a regular job.”

“But, Anders, a career defines you. A career is what gives a man a sense of purpose,” said Michael.

Anders glared down the table at his brother. “Did you hear that one from Dad, or are you just so ingrained in the same mentality that you came up with it on your own?”

“If he said the same thing, it’s because it’s true.”

“Why can’t a regular job be a career?” Anders asked.

“Well, it can, if it’s something you really enjoy. We’re just worried about you, Anders. This is a pretty big change. And when you took off last time, we were all worried.”

“Is that why you came tonight?” Anders asked Aaron. He turned to Cole. “And why you bothered?”

Aaron wiped his mouth with his napkin and shook his head slowly. “Don’t flatter yourself. We’re just docked at Mayport, so I’d have been here anyway.”

“It’s the only reason I’m wasting my time here,” said Cole.

Aaron glared sideways at Cole and then continued. “Consider the circumstances. You vanished for four months. When you came home, you were involved in a bloody fight and then took off again. You leave at the drop of a hat, stop showing up for classes, and come back two weeks later with a stranger in tow. If one of us did that, if you were in our positions, wouldn’t you worry?”

Anders opened his mouth to argue but stopped when Kevin settled his hand on his.

“They’ve got a good point…,” Kevin said softly. “If Jen did the same thing, I’d be more than worried.”

“As if you’d know?” Anders regretted the words immediately, but it was too late to take them back. Kevin slipped his hand off Anders’s and returned it to his fork. Anders looked around the table again. “Look, while I appreciate that you’re concerned, I don’t think you need to be. This isn’t a sudden change, even though I know it must look like that. I wanted to be a lawyer so bad that, after Dad sent me the money to register for the entrance exam, detailed instructions on how to do it, and two reminders of the deadline, he still ended up doing it for me after I let the deadline expire. I’ve found something I really enjoy, and once I get a bit of experience in the industry, I know I can write a business plan to finance my own shop.”

“What industry?”

“I want to make bread.” The silence that enveloped the table was overwhelming. “I want to open a bakery. Artisan breads, deli sandwiches, soup, espresso bar….”

For several moments, no one said a word. Then Reverend Bowman cleared his throat. “May I ask, Anders, what made you decide on a bakery?”

“Until this summer, I had never thought about bread except in terms of peanut butter and jelly. I tried really good bread for the first time while I was hiking, and I was overwhelmingly sad that I had spent so much of my life getting by with Wonder Bread when there were artisan breads in the world. I love it.”

Reverend Bowman nodded slowly. “A man can’t ask for more than being able to make a living doing what he loves. Whether it’s shooting big guns, making money, writing briefs, or making bread. Sometimes turning away from the path before you is impulsiveness, sometimes it’s so frightening it takes quite some time to manage. If that’s what you truly want, I think it’s prudent to change course while you’re still able, instead of five years down the road, with the full cost of law school being wasted.”

Anders’s parents nodded quietly, but they didn’t speak up. That, Anders realized, was why his mother had invited the man. Reverend Bowman was too young to fit into the stereotype in Anders’s imagination, but he definitely had that minister vibe going. He could express their opinions for them and force Cole to behave simply by being in the room. In a way, it was a relief to know his parents were still supportive, but it was also creepy to realize they didn’t feel comfortable just saying it out loud. He began to wonder just how much his family had talked about him dropping out while he was gone.

“Hell, if you’re so determined, go for it. It’d be fun to watch you fall flat on your face for once,” snapped Cole. “Do you have any idea how many small start-ups fail these days? I’d bet a thousand dollars that you’d never even get a retail location open and running, much less make a living. There is no way some artsy bakery is going to be successful in this economy.”

“Why not?” Kevin asked, keeping his gaze on the thick buttered slice of bread on the side of his plate.

“Because everybody is broke. Unemployment here in Jax is at nearly 10 percent. No one is going to spend money on a loaf of bread.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Kevin said, setting the bread back down with reverence. “A bakery can make a profit in this economy, even if unemployment is high. It’s just a question of how you sell it. When the timber industry moved out of Bishop and a lot of people were out of work, my dad said the only thing to do was to raise prices and put out more desserts. People who can’t afford the new car or new skis that they wanted might not be willing to spend three dollars on a staple food, but they’ll spend twice that on a special indulgence because it makes them feel better. You’re not selling them bread—you’re selling them ‘Roasted Garlic and Rosemary Sourdough.’ You’re not selling cinnamon rolls—you’re selling ‘Caramel Pecan Cream Rolls
drizzled with White Chocolate Ganache.’ And instead of charging five dollars for a dozen, you charge four dollars for one. It’s all about knowing people, and Anders knows people better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Clever marketing isn’t enough to make a business successful,” Michael insisted.

Anders noticed that Cole, at least, didn’t say anything in response to that. Cole worked in a financial firm that managed massive investment accounts, and part of his job was specifically evaluating potential investments. He knew as well as Anders just how wrong Michael was.

“What about you, Kevin? What do you do, outside of hiking?” Reverend Bowman asked.

“Nothing, at the moment.”

“But you worked in a bakery?” Michael sounded doubtful.

“Yes.”

“What about school? What did you major in?” Aaron asked.

“I didn’t go.” Kevin fidgeted with his napkin. He set the napkin down in his lap, and Anders noticed that the exhaustion and quiet sadness in Kevin’s eyes had vanished. When Kevin looked up, Anders wanted to groan. Kevin wore the same empty smile Anders remembered from their waterfall hike in Franklin, North Carolina. It made Anders want to hit something, because now he recognized the expression for what it was—Kevin’s own absolute belief that he wasn’t good enough, his acceptance of it as a fact. “I didn’t even have time to finish high school.”

“You don’t even have a high school diploma?” Cole huffed out a condescending laugh.

“Nope. I dropped out.”

“So your boyfriend dropped out to work in a bakery, and you’re dropping out to work in a bakery….” Cole rolled his eyes. “Typical, Anders.”

Anders wanted to drag Cole across the table and beat the shit out of him. He wanted to shout that none of them, himself included, could have shouldered the burdens Kevin had managed as a teenager. But no matter how much Anders wanted to scream at them, he knew Kevin’s past wasn’t something he talked about easily. Anders wasn’t going to make him more uncomfortable by shouting it to the world. After the way he’d snapped about Kevin’s relationship with his sister, Anders doubted Kevin even wanted Anders to touch him, so he laced his fingers together and glared at Cole.

“And I suppose you’re going to try telling us that Anders came up with this bakery idea on his own?” asked Aaron, glaring across the table. “I suppose he even
suggested
he take you on as a partner—his business-administration degree, credit, and financing combined with your
vast
knowledge and experience? Honestly, Anders, even you should be able to see through this bullshit. An out-of-work high school dropout who just happens to have worked a few days in a bakery has you ready to commit your entire life to some off-the-wall business proposal, and you can’t even see that he’s just trying to use you as a meal ticket!”

“Aaron,” Frank said in the same quiet tone he always used. At the head of the table, he set a half-eaten slice of buttered sourdough bread on his plate and stared at it before looking up at them. “You might want to go easy on the wine. You’re being presumptuous and rude.”

“I don’t think I’ve had nearly enough wine! You can’t seriously be suggesting that you’re okay with this.” He gestured across the table. “It’s a con!”

“That’s enough, Aaron,” Anders snapped. “Kevin didn’t suggest I do anything. I haven’t even talked about it with him yet.”

“And I’m sure he’ll be the first to point out that it was all your idea right before he empties out your business account and vanishes!”

Beside him, Kevin tore a small piece from his slice of bread and shoved it in his mouth. Sex wasn’t an option at the moment, but thanks to his father, sourdough was readily available. Anders would have to find out just what his father had intended by buying the Rock Creek bread, but even knowing his father was probably manipulating them both, he was grateful.

Kevin, he realized, was using the bread and the slow movements to buy more time, either to think of something to say or to give Anders a chance to defend him.

Anders wanted to defend him, but he didn’t want to betray Kevin’s privacy. “Aaron, you’re acting like a superficial asshole,” Anders tried.

“It gets better.” Kevin dusted the crumbs off his fingers. “I’m not only uneducated and unemployed, I’m homeless too.”

“And you think that’s something to brag about?” Michael looked incredulous.

“I think you’re so focused on being overprotective that nothing I can say or do at this point will change your opinion. I could be a partner in a successful, nationally marketed bakery brand, be unemployed because I have a trust fund to fall back on, and be homeless because I couldn’t see the point in maintaining a home while wasting my money hiking the Appalachian Trail, and it wouldn’t change your opinion.”

Anders was surprised when his own muffled chuckle was echoed from the head of the table. The amused gleam in his father’s eyes left no doubt that Anders wasn’t the only one at the table who knew everything Kevin had just said was true.

“It would make it a bit less likely that you’re here to take advantage of our brother,” Michael conceded.

“Would it? I would still be unemployed. I would still be a high school dropout. I’d still be homeless. I would still be here because your brother offered to let me take advantage of his hospitality while I’m recovering from surgery.”

“That’s not what I meant when I said taking advantage of him,” Michael said quickly. “You shouldn’t assume that—”

“Why not?” Kevin asked. “You did.”

At the head of the table, Frank Blankenship laughed into his napkin.

“I dare say,” Barbara said with a grin, “he has a point. Why shouldn’t he assume the worst of you? You’ve already assumed the worst of him—and had the audacity to insult a guest at my table as though I never taught you basic manners—so fair’s fair.”

Anders stared at his mother, stunned. His mother had always been so caught up in maintaining appearances that she would never criticize her children in front of company. She’d say a few quiet words to their father, and then he would talk to them in private, where he would be so quietly disappointed that they all, inevitably, broke down and apologized.

“Mrs. Blankenship….” Kevin’s smile grew.

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “My name is Barbara. Barb is just fine.”

“Barb.” Kevin smiled. “I have a little sister…. She’s not a part of my life anymore, but when she was, I did and said some pretty harsh things when I thought she was doing something that would get her hurt. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect your family. Regardless of how I came to be in my current position, they’ve got every right to be worried. However, this is the first I’ve heard about Anders wanting to open a bakery.”

“May I ask,” Reverend Bowman said cautiously. “Why did you drop out of school?”

Kevin’s gaze dropped again. “My father was dying,” he said quietly. “My mom needed help in our family’s bakery, so I dropped out to work there full-time. After a couple of years, my dad had to be moved into a nursing home, and then he went back and forth between the nursing home and the hospital until he died. By then, my mom was a wreck, and my sister Jen was only twelve at the time. The Rock Creek Bakery is a family business, and it was our only source of income. Someone had to keep it running, put food on the table…. We had to let all of our employees at the shop go, because the medical bills were so high we couldn’t figure out any other way to cover them, but the work still had to get done.” Kevin shrugged but kept his eyes on his food. “After he died, I had planned to go to college, but, well, sometimes life doesn’t go the way you plan.”

When Kevin would have finally been free to think about college, Anders knew, fate had thrown a veritable death sentence at him. What was the point in going to college when life seemed too short already?

Anders squeezed Kevin’s thigh, regardless of how angry Kevin might be with him. Suddenly, the twenty to thirty years Kevin might have before his immune system killed him didn’t seem like nearly enough. If Anders could convince him that they belonged together, he was determined not to waste a moment of it—especially not by second-guessing himself after he said something stupid. “I’m sorry for what I said about Jennifer, by the way. That was uncalled for, and unfair.”