by Brent, Cora
There’s no movement, not even a breeze in the air as we stand there on Division Street facing one another.
Jay
“You’re shitting me.”
Shane shrugs. “We need the help. She needs a job. What’s the problem?”
I bend down to grab a twenty pound bag of flour and toss it on a shelf. “No problem, but does she know a damn thing about working in a bakery?”
“Do we?” he laughs.
I heave another bag of flour onto the shelf.
“It’s your call,” I mutter. “I just thought someone around here ought to have an idea how to operate the place.”
“Delia is still around to help.”
“Delia says she doesn’t want to work more than fifteen hours a week because of her arthritis.”
“You worry too much.” Shane shakes his head while gesturing to the mess of supplies and failed muffin batches. “We’ve gotten a ton of shit figured out already and we’ll be ready to open next week.”
I’m having my doubts about that but far be it from me to crush Shane’s enthusiasm. “Have you scheduled the health department inspection?”
“Caris is going to look into that. She’s good with all the paperwork crap. She sorted through the pile of invoices that were stacking up, paid the ones that needed to be paid and called suppliers to talk about terms.”
“Terms?”
“Yeah, like negotiating payments and whatever.”
My next comment is limited to a grunt. Shane has every reason to hire Caris. She’s a business major and she’s smart and he needs all the help he can get with the paperwork side of the business. Her presence in the bakery kind of throws a wrench into my plans to avoid her at all costs but that was probably never a reasonable strategy anyway.
There was a moment when I almost broke down and talked to her honestly. It was Sunday morning and I was outside trying to diagnose a rattling noise under the hood of my truck when she came running up out of nowhere and sprawled on the grass, panting from exertion. She didn’t notice me at first and I saw her as the girl she’d been in that brief window of time when we were friends. Hair messy, glasses crooked, no makeup.
I had the urge to tell her that I remembered her and my memories weren’t bad. Most of them, anyway. But that was then and this is now. We’d be doing each other a favor if we just shook hands and kept a polite distance for the rest of the summer.
Then she ruined everything.
She took her shirt off.
She sat there on the grass in nothing but a white sports bra and stretched this way and that with a moan.
And just like that my dick got so hard I could hardly stand up straight.
What the hell is it about this girl?
She’s cute for sure. Just like a million other girls are cute. If I hit the local bar scene I’d have little trouble finding one to spend a few sweaty hours with.
Yet some sexy, confident college girl wouldn’t satisfy me. I’d still want this one instead. And there’s something too fucking powerful about how bad I want her. If she knew she might be afraid. Maybe she should be.
Shane assumes the subject of Caris’s employment at Ruby’s Bakery is closed and he begins cleaning up mounds of leftover flour. “I think the last batch of banana muffins came out all right, don’t you?”
“They were edible,” I agree and start filling the sink with soapy water. Every day that I don’t share the truth with my best friend makes me feel a little guiltier. Obviously Caris hasn’t said anything to Lana or Shane would know. She must have her own reasons for keeping quiet.
I remove the pair of food handler gloves I’d been wearing. “Hey, can we talk about something serious?”
His head pops up and he looks surprised, then wary. “Are you gonna hassle me about drinking? I told you I’ve got it under control.”
I’m not sure that’s true. That’s not what I was going to say, though. I’ve got to tell him. I’ll feel better after I blurt out the fact that I knew Caris way back when I was a kid named Jonathan Hempstead. He might scratch his head in confusion over why I didn’t just say so in the first place but in the end he won’t think much of it. Shane knows I have worse secrets and his loyalty has no limits. Neither does mine.
Before I can open my mouth the door opens and in walks Caris herself. She’s wearing jeans and a bright blue polo shirt emblazoned with the bakery name. She doesn’t give me a second glance and heads straight for Shane.
“I found a place in town that would print up the shirts today. I’m wearing a prototype.” She spins in a circle to model it.
“That’s great,” Shane says and then turns to me to explain. “Caris and Lana thought everyone who works here should have a company shirt. Lana designed these.”
“I ordered some for you, Jay,” Caris says with cheerful sweetness. “I guessed extra large.”
“That’ll work.” I’m wondering if she’s up to something.
Caris has already moved on to discussing net thirty terms and other business babble that kind of makes Shane’s eyes glaze over. He checks his phone.
“Shit, I’ve got to go meet Ruby’s lawyer to sign some paperwork. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Jay, you want to close up or stick around?”
“I’ll stick around,” I say, eyeing Caris.
She eyes me back. “Jay can show me the ropes since we’ll all be working together now.”
I glare.
She grins.
“Don’t scare her away, pal,” Shane warns, patting me on the back on his way to the door.
Caris laughs. “I don’t scare easily.”
Shane nods at her. “I haven’t said this enough but thanks for your help. Glad you’re on the team.”
“Yeah well, thanks for offering me the job, Shane. I was about to give up and start selling my clothes by the side of the road.”
“See you guys later.” Shane waves once and then is gone.
Deathly silence reigns for a full minute.
Caris crosses her arms and inspects me before breaking the silence. “It’s a mess in here.”
Wordlessly I sweep the flour off the prep counter and into a garbage bin and grab a washcloth.
“Before I forget, I have a paycheck for you.” She digs inside her purse now and comes up with a paper rectangle. She waves it a few feet from my face. “Shane asked me to figure out how to run payroll.”
I don’t want a paycheck. I already told Shane I don’t want a paycheck.
“I know you don’t want Shane to give you a paycheck,” Caris says and carefully sets the thing down on a dry section of the counter. “Shane insists that you are getting one anyway.”
“Don’t need it.”
“Then donate it to someone who does.”
“All right. You take it.”
“No.”
“Well, I saw a homeless guy sleeping on the corner this morning. Give it to him.”
“Jay.”
She’s calling me Jay now, not Johnny. We’re the only ones here. There’s no need to keep up the charade.
I ball the washcloth up and aim it at the sink. “What do you want, Caris?”
She runs her fingertips over the counter. “I want you not to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
She turns her eyes on me and they are so full of sorrow that my gut twists.
“Really?” she asks with all the shy hope in the world.
Damn it to hell.
She’s killing me with those eyes. I might be able to think clearly if she’d stop gazing at me like a sad puppy.
“I don’t know why you’re going by a different name but I won’t tell anyone. I haven’t even told Lana. There’s no way I can understand everything you’ve been through but I know you must have reasons for wanting to keep your past to yourself. I have no intention of doing anything to screw up your life.”
I breathe out a sigh and realize I should be less of an asshole to her. The fact that I’m fucked in the head isn’t her
fault.
I look her in the eye. “I swear I’ve never hated you.”
She wants to believe me. She chews her soft lower lip and waits for me to say more.
Of course I don’t hate Caris. The feelings I do have are worse, so much worse.
“But you don’t want to be friends, do you, Jay?”
“Fuck no.”
The response is brutal and instant and she blinks in disbelief. Then she’s irritated.
“Why the hell not?” she demands.
I turn on the sink full blast in the hopes of drowning her out. She walks over and savagely turns it off.
“Look at me.”
I cross my arms over my chest and stare straight ahead at nothing.
“Why not, Jay?” she shouts in my ear. “Why can’t we be friends?”
Because I could fucking lose myself in you and there’s not much of me left.
Before the situation intensifies I’m saved by the arrival of some dickhead wearing a backwards baseball cap and two hundred dollar sneakers. He strolls right through the door, disregarding the very prominent closed sign.
“Alden!” Caris exclaims and yeah, he looks very much like a guy who would be named something shitty like Alden.
“What are you doing here?” she asks him, taking a step away from me.
He gives her his charming dickhead grin. “Just passing by and wanted to see where you’d be working.”
Dickhead takes a stroll behind the counter, plants his hand on her ass and slobbers on her mouth. I feel the intense urge to drop kick him through the plate glass window.
“Um.” Caris is obviously uncomfortable as she extricates herself from his grip and shoots me a glance. “This is Jay. Remember, I told you about him? He’s Shane’s best friend and he’s helping out here for the summer. Jay, this is my friend, Alden.”
Friend. Interesting. From the way he was manhandling her I would have guessed him to be her boyfriend but apparently not.
Alden acts like he just noticed that I’m in the room. His eyes narrow for a split second before he becomes a politician and offers me a handshake.
“How’s it going, dude?”
I have a brand new life goal and it involves inflicting discomfort on people who say ‘dude’ and wear backwards baseball caps. I squeeze his hand hard enough to make him flinch.
“It’s going nowhere,” I say, pleased to see how he flexes his hand to make sure it’s in one piece after he withdraws it.
“Uh, okay.” He bleats out a cough of laughter. “Care, let’s get out of here and grab some lunch.”
She shakes her head. “Sorry but I can’t. I just got in and I’m supposed to be training.”
“Go on, Care,” I urge, trying to be obnoxious and succeeding. “Go have lunch with your friend.”
Caris is plainly irritated that I’ve chosen to chime in. Alden strikes me as an ass clown of the first order but right now he could serve a purpose. The last thing I feel like doing is continuing my one on one conversation with Caris. If she takes off for lunch with this dipshit right now then there is a good chance Shane will be back by the time she returns.
She tips her chin up and gives me a stubborn look. “Fine, Jay. If that’s the way you want it…”
“Yup. Get lost.”
“Great,” she snaps and takes Alden by the hand. “See you later.”
I wave at them. “Take your time.”
Caris shoots me a final scowl that says, This isn’t over.
I respond with a stony stare that answers, Yes it is.
Once they are outside he puts his arm around her and my teeth grind together, which is nuts. After all, I’m the one who pushed her into his arms. I can already tell he’s too brainless to deserve her. But watching her skip away with Alden is better than remaining here alone with her and explaining all the reasons why I can’t be her friend.
That’s a path leading to places we can’t go. Not together. Not ever.
Caris
Running a bakery is a crazy amount of hard work.
When Ruby was alive I never appreciated how much it must have taken for her to keep the place operating on her own. The last week has been one giant crash course in cookie baking and small business management. I’m certainly not doing all the work, or even most of it. The guys had been spending most of their waking hours there leading up to yesterday’s grand re-opening and even though I burned two batches of scones and had to fix a couple of glitches with the payment processing system, the day could be counted as a success. Customers showed up, many of them longtime regulars who were fond of Ruby and eager to give her godson a chance to prove himself.
Today has been nearly as busy but feels less frantic.
Shane decided to keep Ruby’s original operating hours so the doors close at three in the afternoon. Shane’s in a hyper mood, ready to celebrate, and while we’re still cleaning up I hear him call Lana to suggest inviting some friends over tonight.
Working for Shane is fun, if a little chaotic. He tends to fly by the seat of his pants and possesses a short attention span when it comes time to discuss matters of complexity. His saving grace is that he’s charming and earnest. It helps that Jay spends every effort trying to keep his best friend focused.
As for Jay, we’ve come to an understanding of sorts. He likes his role as a hostile douchebag. And since he likes being a hostile douchebag I’m not required to waste any more time on him.
At work we communicate when necessary but with as few words as possible. At home it’s easy enough to avoid him. He rejects social activities and according to Lana he stays in his room, emerging only to eat, talk to Shane, go to the gym and work at the bakery.
Shane notices that I’m practically dead on my feet and urges me to leave, saying he and Jay can handle closing up. I’m happy to take him up on that offer. Waking up at five a.m. like I’ve been doing is for the birds. I have newfound respect for people who make sure that donut and bagel bins everywhere are filled before the breakfast hour begins.
Once I’m home I can think of nothing more fantastic than a late afternoon nap. I change to a soft tee shirt that’s more comfortable than the scratchy Ruby’s Bakery polo and fall asleep on top of the covers.
When I wake up to the sound of splashing and laugher I sit up and rub my eyes. I can tell by the light filtering in that it’s early evening. I hear voices that I don’t recognize coming from outside but from the sound of things a raucous good time is going on in the pool. The nap delivered all the rest I need and a burst of energy convinces me to head out there and join them. I’m not especially worried about running into Jay. A gathering like this is the sort of thing his grumpy ass would shun.
Before I leave the room I check my phone. Alden had texted while I was asleep. He wants to hang out tonight.
As soon as I step outside I’m greeted with lots of waving. Some of Lana’s coworkers are here with their boyfriends and I only know two of them slightly.
While I’m sinking into a patio chair and scoping out the scene I receive another text from Alden.
What R U doing?
The pool is full of couples and a few seconds out here is already making me feel like a spare part. The summer twilight weather is perfect and Jay is nowhere in sight. I have to guess he’s in the house somewhere, probably perfecting his sneer in the bathroom mirror. Alden’s not perfect but he’s social and sometimes even entertaining. I don’t feel like being the single girl accessory tonight so I text him back.
Nothing. Come over.
Two seconds later he responds with a winking emoji, which is kind of dumb but so very Alden.
Someone has abandoned food to cook on the grill without tending it. The chicken wings look crisp and borderline burnt so I remove them from the flame with a pair of metal tongs and lay them out neatly on a platter. Lana’s kicking back in a corner of the pool, her elbows propped up on the concrete. Whatever she’s saying makes her friends erupt into peals of laughter.
The picnic table looks like
someone emptied a liquor cabinet and dumped it out here. There’s a bottle of everything imaginable. I’m really thirsty, but the beer chilling in the cooler looks like a better option so I grab one and start sipping.
Shane swims over to the side of the pool, vaults up to the deck and shakes the water out of his hair. He must have been the one to leave the wings burning on the grill because he spots the platter and thanks me for dealing with them.
I tip my beer bottle in his direction. “Congrats on a successful grand re-opening.”
Shane is helping himself to one wing after another. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins. “Couldn’t have done it without you guys.”
“Did Jay go out tonight?” I ask, trying to sound casual. I don’t want to be thinking about him or wondering where he is but I can’t seem to help it.
“Nah. He’s at the gym.” Shane surveys the layout of booze on the table. “Hey Caris, how about a celebratory shot?”
I hate doing shots but Shane’s already at work, using two empty red cups to pour a generous mixture of rum and coke. He hands one over with a delightful grin that would brighten anyone’s day and we clink plastic cups before he downs the contents of his in one swallow. I take a mouthful but then spit about half of it back in the cup. Shane doesn’t notice. He howls like a wolf and then cannonballs back into the pool, disturbing the rest of the occupants with a tidal wave splash.
“You idiot,” Lana laughs but she holds her arms out and squeals when he swims over to maul her. They’re cute to watch, as usual, but I’m remembering a remark from Shane’s best friend.
“Shane shouldn’t drink so much.”
Based on Lana’s stories I know that Shane has had addiction issues in the past and although I thought he’d overcome them, I would have to guess that Jay’s worries are genuine. Shane does drink an awful lot. Lana must realize this. At least I hope she does.
I’m finishing off my latest beer when Alden shows up. By now the sun has set and I’m feeling slightly buzzed. Alden looks good tonight. He looks even better when he yanks off his shirt and I don’t mind when he swoops in for a kiss that includes an obnoxious level of tongue.
