Foothills Pride Stories, Volume 1

by Pat Henshaw

  “I went over the receipts you had Gary give me, Ben.” He pulled back, startled, while Jeff and Connor gave me a quizzical look. “Seems he was ordering an awful lot of supplies, some of it really big equipment, for whatever panty-ass jobs he was heading. What’s your take on it?”

  “I signed off on the first few orders at the beginning of the year,” Ben mumbled. “I didn’t know what else to do. He pulled the ‘I’m older and know more than you’ shit on me. I was afraid to bring it to you. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Why were you afraid?” His words and attitude made me sick. Why couldn’t he come and talk to me? Hadn’t I been open for both him and Connor their entire lives? Where had I gone wrong? I trusted them. They should trust me.

  Ben sighed. “I’ve never been able to stand up to Gary. He scares me. I figure he’s one insult away from beating me up. I didn’t want to be there when he snapped.”

  Now I was alarmed. I looked at Connor, who nodded. Damn. Why hadn’t they said anything? I had to get my head out of my ass and quick.

  “Okay, let me deal with him and the family.” I waited for them to nod. I looked at the paychecks. “About a third of the workforce has quit and is getting severance today. You’ll probably hear a lot of bitching and moaning about how the checks should have been larger, how they should get medical and dental because they’re a part of the company, blah, blah, blah. Refer ’em to me—even if they try to railroad you into making a decision in their favor or beg you to make me listen because they’re special. Nobody’s special except both of you. Nobody else. Period.”

  They sat up straighter and exchanged a glance.

  “What if one of us wants to quit?” Connor asked softly.

  Damn. I caught my breath. He wanted to quit?

  “Talk to me,” I answered and made a real effort not to be gruff or growl.

  He studied me for a long time. We stared at each other, but I didn’t see anything in his eyes to give me a clue about what he was going to say.

  Ben’s eyes were down, but there wasn’t any surprise in his face. Whatever Connor felt, he’d talked it over with Ben first.

  The betrayal hurt. Like a knife in the chest that they were twisting. I could barely breathe.

  Quietly, Jeff, who’d been watching and listening, stood and came around to where I was sitting. He put his hand on my shoulder. He bent and muttered “Breathe” as Ben and Connor gasped. What were they so damned surprised about?

  “Hear them out, Abe,” he said. “Maybe it’s time to let them live the lives they want and not force them into molds your dad created.”

  As he went back to sit in his chair, I thought about his words. Had I been like our dad and forced them to become Behr Construction? I didn’t think so. Still, I’d never asked either one of them what he wanted out of life.

  Time for Stoic Behr to appear. I put on my rock face.

  Jeff nodded to Connor. Connor and Ben looked from me to Jeff and back, puzzled frowns on their faces. What? I had a friend. Was it so hard to believe?

  “What’s up, Connor?” I asked, making my tone as bland as possible.

  Connor shook himself, took a deep breath, and looked directly at me.

  “Abe, I know you’ve given your life to us—me and Ben—and to the company. But I don’t want to be part of the company. I just want to be part of the immediate family—you, Ben and me. You’ve made the extended family richer than it has any right to be, considering they’re all ingrates and bigoted asses. If I had to work just with you, I could do it. I can’t work with them, and I can’t watch them run this company into the ground while you’re working so hard to keep it going.” He stopped and took a breath. He sat examining his hands, hands as beat up as mine were.

  “You want out.” It wasn’t a question. I could see and hear it even if he didn’t voice it. “What will you do instead?”

  He perked up.

  “I’ve been talking to Marlon at Monique’s Bakery. He said if I can give him six months or a year, he’ll teach me how to become a baker, or at least a baker’s assistant. I have some ideas about new things they can make for sale.” His face was eager, his body taut like he was excited to break out of the blocks. Then he got a mischievous look in his eyes, a glint I remember seeing there when he was a child. “I’ll even let you taste everything first.”

  How could I say no to him? I smiled, even though it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

  “When do you start?”

  Surprise and excitement radiated off him. “Now? Tomorrow?” he asked quickly as if I might change my mind.

  “Okay. There’s only one condition,” I said, suddenly realizing what a great deal this was.

  “Yeah? What?”

  “Not only do I get to sample everything you come up with, but you’re on call to make my favorites whenever I ask for them. Also, there’s always a table at Monique’s available for me.”

  “That’s more than two things. And I can’t promise about Monique’s.”

  “Okay. Fine. Just as long as you make lots of good things to eat and share them with me.”

  We were bantering, which we hadn’t done since we were kids. It felt good. It felt right.

  I glanced at Ben, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. I grinned back at him. Feisty Ben radiated happiness.

  I rose and walked over to stand between them. I pulled them up, then one at a time gave them hugs. We never hugged. We weren’t a touchy-feely family. But this too felt right and good. They hugged me back, and for the first time ever, I felt like I was part of a family.

  I turned to Ben. “You staying with me? Or have you got a secret dream too?”

  Ben grinned at me, suspicious moisture in all of our eyes. “Naw. I like the company. I like working with you. Who would you fight with if I left? Somebody’s got to keep you honest.”

  I hugged him again, now on the verge of actually crying. Shit. Behrs didn’t cry. As I thought this and Ben’s arms tightened around me, we both broke out with a gulp and tears ran down our faces. I glanced at them as I swiped at my eyes. They were both weeping too, both so happy they seemed to light up from inside.

  I had to put a stop to this. I broke slowly from Ben, gave him a pat on the back, and turned to Connor.

  “Okay. Well. As your last job for Behr Construction, you need to give out paychecks to your crews. Remember,” I said to both him and Ben as I handed them the stacks of envelopes, “anybody’s got a nut he wants cracked, you send him to me.”

  They walked out wiping their eyes, and I even pawed at mine once or twice. I turned to find Jeff behind me. He’d grabbed a sheet of paper off my desk and was blowing his nose.

  “We gotta talk,” I said closing the door and walking back behind my desk. “We gotta figure out if one of my relatives is going to jail or not.”

  As he sat down across from me, I looked into his face and some of the clouds lifted. I was in love with this guy, plain and simple. Not only was he a good friend, but he was funny, loved food as much as I did, and fished with me. Hell, he even liked worms and hiking. He’d had my back while we discovered a nest of vipers and kept me cool and levelheaded when I’d have easily fired everyone and started over. He even shared my views on discrimination and hate. We were blood brothers without the knife cut and palm wound.

  Over the past few weeks, he and I had forged a bond beyond friendship, shackling us together. Whether it was a lasting bond was yet to be seen, but this was a breakthrough for me. Was I ready to tell him how I felt? Was I ready to tell my brothers? To tell my relatives, neighbors, community?

  No, all I was ready to do was admit to it to myself.

  10

  JEFF AND I talked about what Gary had been doing, all the machinery and equipment he’d had Ben sign for, all the supplies and tools that he’d overordered. The weight of the family made me leery about charging him, but I did fire him with no severance. I also told him in no uncertain terms I wouldn’t give him a reference or recommend anyone
to hire him.

  He was pleading and crying by the time he left my office. I heard from his sister not two minutes afterward. She lit into me, so I told her what he’d done and asked her if I should have him arrested and charged. The silence over the phone was telling. She hadn’t known about Gary’s skimming. I also said her husband and sons had been in on the scams and told her we could prove it. She was angry when she hung up, but not steamed at me.

  Jeff and I went out more often now, as we cleaned up and closed out Gary’s enterprise. We traveled around the county ending storage-shed leases and sending the word out to Gary’s cohorts that their scamming days were over. Everyone was more surprised than belligerent when we faced them. We said we weren’t pressing charges—yet—but if we ever saw any more underhanded dealings with Behr Construction people involved, we’d immediately call the sheriff.

  Jeff and I had dinner with Ben and Felicity from the coffee shop a lot. Ben had changed overnight into a responsible, fun, happy adult. He seemed to really like Felicity, and also seemed to accept Jeff as a part of the company.

  In fact, I’d made Jeff an offer to become the company’s accountant, which he accepted, and both Ben and Connor approved. Connor was loving his apprenticeship at the bakery almost as much as I was. Every afternoon on his way home, he’d drop off a sample of the day’s bounty, which I’d share with Jeff and Ben, or if something smelled particularly delicious, I’d keep for myself.

  Funny thing, when I’d do that, Jeff always knew and commented about it. It was like he could read my mind.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do about Jeff, or if I’d even say anything about how I was feeling to him. Didn’t matter, though. I was just breaking in his place in my life. I was giving myself time to get settled.

  So all in all? Life in our little sliver of the family was great.

  In the rest of the family? Armageddon. The family broke into factions: my supporters, Gary’s supporters, and the neutrals.

  From my supporters: Abe took a solid company that was sliding into the toilet, thanks to a give-a-shit drunk, and kept the company going through a recession. He’s a good kid. Uh, yeah, well, thanks.

  From Gary’s supporters: Fuck Abe. Gare’ll give us back our jobs and give us raises too. ’Sides we still have bathrooms/kitchens/decks/basements/whatever to fix up. We need the free supplies. How can we get them without a job? Good luck, Gare.

  From the neutrals: Abe’s always dealt fairly with us. He’s also paid us well. We’ll wait and see what happens. Don’t overwhelm me with your love and support.

  Like I said before, change was happening, and this Behr had to do something about it.

  WHILE ALL of this was happening in my private life, hate in the community suddenly seemed to be popping up like mushrooms after a rain, appearing where least expected.

  On Monday I got a message from my cousins Ron and Jonah, who were subbing for Bobby and Tony in finishing the Winters’ cabana. The message was short and sweet: Get out here, boss.

  Almost on the heels of the message, Mrs. Winter phoned.

  “Mr. Behr? We have a problem.” Her voice was stern. I felt like a kid again with an adult calling me on the carpet.

  “The name’s Abe, Mrs. Winter. I’m on my way right now.”

  “I’ll see you then, Abe.” She wasn’t backing down.

  When I rounded the corner of the house, the red spray-painted letters hit me in the face. F—A—G—I—T. It was written twice. Emphasis? Flaunting bad spelling? What the fuck?

  Ron and Jonah walked up to me almost at a run.

  “We didn’t know what to do, boss,” Ron said. He looked like he was about to cry. Except for the spray paint, the cabana looked nice. The crews had done a good job, and I would have been proud of them if I hadn’t been so angry.

  “Take the rest of the day off,” I told the boys. “Did you call the sheriff?”

  They exchanged glances, then shook their heads.

  “Well, call him now. I need to speak to the homeowner.”

  Ron took out his phone as they trotted to their truck.

  Mrs. Winter was on her way toward me from the back door of the house.

  “What’s this all about, Abe?” she snipped at me. She was as upset as I was. She looked like she wanted to hit somebody, maybe me.

  “I have no idea,” I told her as she put her hands on her hips. “I had the guys call the sheriff.” I tried to stay as calm as I could. No point riling her up more than she already was. There was nothing we could do about it until after the sheriff got here and she and Stu filed a complaint. Afterward we could sand down the wood and restain.

  “Are you or anyone in your company gay?” she asked.

  “Well, um,” I answered.

  “You’re not gay?” she asked.

  “What? I don’t know,” I answered as she got closer.

  “What about you and that nice Jeff fellow?” she was standing her ground and calling me out.

  “What?” I answered, even though my mind was shouting, “Do you really think there’s a chance for me with him? Holy shit! Is he really into men? Into me?” I hoped, but I didn’t know for sure. It was all so foreign to me since I’ve never thought about liking or not liking someone, never thought about girlfriends, much less boyfriends. Having Mrs. W notice made me feel like someone had slapped me upside the head with a two-by-four.

  We stood close together, nearly touching, me staring at our feet in the early-morning dew. I didn’t know what to tell her. My mind was a swirling swarm of thoughts, each flittering by so quickly I couldn’t make it come into focus before another took its place.

  Then I felt her hand on my arm.

  “Come inside, Abe,” she said softly, tugging on my arm. “Let’s talk a minute before the sheriff gets here.”

  Numbly, I let her lead me into the house. She was like a tugboat guiding me to safe waters. My mind churned as we walked into the kitchen.

  Was I gay? Sure looked like it, if what I was feeling for Jeff counted at all.

  Mrs. Winter was standing watching me as my mind slowed. Could she read my thoughts? Did she understand how confused and scared I was? I was reaching for happiness, but couldn’t quite get there.

  “Abe,” she said, her eyes never leaving my face. “You poor boy.”

  Gently she put her arms around my waist and hugged me.

  I nearly started crying. Nobody, especially no woman, ever hugged me. Not since the family hug with Ben and Connor. One time. One hug. With the other emotions rolling around inside me, her hug made me gulp. I put my arms around her and returned the hug.

  After a few seconds, she let go and pushed me into a chair. She walked to the coffeemaker and poured two mugs. She set one on the table in front of me.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” she said gently. “I can see it in your eyes. It’s all new and exciting and scary. You don’t know what to do.”

  She patted my arm, and it felt good. Right. Like a mother would pat her son.

  “My Michael went through the same thing last year. I understand. The spray-painted message could be for us—for him—rather than for you or your company.” She took a sip of her coffee, but I still hadn’t touched mine. I was too stunned. Too much was happening. My mind had stopped processing. Her son? What?

  “If you ever want to talk to somebody who understands a little of what you’re going through, don’t hesitate to call me.” Her voice changed at the end. She was looking out of the window at Sheriff Lloyd Campbell, who was staring at the cabana and its hate-filled message. Mrs. Winter rose and took my face in her hands. “You call me if you want someone to talk to. You understand?”

  It was all I could do to nod.

  “Good boy,” she said with a pat on my shoulder. “Now let’s go talk to the sheriff.”

  In a daze, I followed her outside. Was the ground shaking beneath my feet? Did I look different? Where was the placid, genial Abe I knew? Where had I gone? Who was I now?

  Lloyd was livid.
Even a Behr in shock could tell.

  As he questioned Mrs. Winter, I stood pretending to listen. I was a hull of a man. I needed to get away to the cabin, lock myself in there, and come to terms with who I was and what I was going to do about it. I had to find a reality I could live with, a new image of myself that jibed with what I now knew.

  When Lloyd finally turned to me, I said to him and Mrs. W, “Whenever this can be cleared, just call. We’ll take care of it.”

  I stumbled away, brushing past Stu, who had driven up. I got in the truck and, on automatic pilot, drove to the mountains and my cabin.

  I pulled over to the side of the road at the place where I knew the cell coverage was about to give out and texted Ben, Connor, and Jeff: At cabin. Need time to think. Ben in charge. Then I shut down my phone and drove the rest of the way to safety.

  TWO HOURS later I heard pounding on the cabin door.

  “Abe! We gotta talk. Lemme in.”

  My first thought was “Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin,” which was weird since I’d never read fairy tales as a kid. How do these things sneak into a person’s mind? How do they take over at weird times?

  Jeff sounded insistent. “Lemme in.”

  “No,” I bellowed. “I can’t think if you’re here. Go away. I need to think.”

  Silence.

  “Okay, I’ll give you another couple of hours, but I’m coming back if you don’t give me a chance to talk to you.”

  More silence.

  I sighed.

  “How about we meet for dinner at the Bottom?” I asked the door.

  A shorter silence.

  “Okay. Six o’clock. You better be there.”

  Having voiced the threat, Jeff peeked in the window at me. Shook his head. Walked away toward his truck.

  Peace and quiet.

  I’d said I wanted to think, but my mind was too chaotic to sort the thoughts. There was Jeff and how I felt about him. There was the smackdown in the family around the future of the company. There was hate talk and now vandalism. Seemed like everyone wanted something from me, and at the same time, no one cared about me at all. How could one person be so near, yet so far, from turmoil?