“That must be nice,” Chet said, still trying to figure out why the two jobs.
“It is. I have a house that I own, but I have to pay the taxes and keep the place up. It’s a lot, so I work at the store so I can eat and stuff. The other jobs are so I can pay the taxes and insurance. Thankfully, since I live in town, I can actually get regular insurance because there are fire-protection measures. It still costs me a lot, but not as much as if I had to go with the state plan. That would be worse.”
Chet almost couldn’t believe his ears. “You work more than one job just to pay the taxes and insurance on your house… without a mortgage.” He tried to get his head around that.
“Yeah. Lots of us work more than one job. I’m pretty lucky because the grocery store hired me full-time five years ago, and they provide health insurance.” Darren’s life was obviously very different from his. He didn’t have to worry about things likethat. It was all taken care of because he worked for the family business.
Chet coasted as the road descended toward the beach with its tight turns. He was careful around the bends after they passed the beach and climbed to the bluffs once more.
“What do you like to do when you aren’t working? Like, for fun?” Chet asked, thinking it might be good to change the subject.
“I work on the house. Last summer, I painted it. And this year, I’m fixing the fence out front and doing some work on the inside. Grandma kept it up really well, and I want to do the same thing. This close to the ocean, things can go bad pretty fast.”
“Do you go to the movies?” Chet asked.
Darren snickered. “I don’t even have Netflix or a streaming service. The last time I watched TV for more than half an hour was on a break at The Pub, and there’s always sports on there. It’s been years since I had the time to do much of anything besides work. I know that’s kind of hard for a guy like you to understand.”
“I get it.” He had been trying to put himself in Darren’s shoes.
Darren shifted in the seat. “How could you? Here in California, everything is so expensive that guys like me, people who aren’t rich or don’t make a ton of money, can barely survive. I own a tiny home here in Mendo. If I were to sell it, I could get a couple million dollars. But then I wouldn’t have a place to live, and I’d run through the money playing rent. Most people can’t buy homes because they’re so expensive. The house, between insurance and taxes, costs me almost fifteen hundred dollars a month. And the only reason it’s that low is because I inherited the house and live in it as my primary residence. Otherwise, the assessment would go up to current value, and I could no longer afford to stay. It’s already a lot of money… and it goes upevery year. That shit don’t stop. It just keeps going no matter what. Death and taxes, and sometimes I think I’m going to work myself to death just to pay the taxes.”
Chet nodded slowly. He really was beginning to understand. If he were honest, he had never thought of that sort of thing before. His family lived in a multistory unit in New York that could probably bring forty million dollars if it were to go on the market. He had a home in Tribecca that cost millions. He never had to worry about money, and frankly, he never gave it much thought.
He drove over the Noyo River bridge in Fort Bragg and made a right.
“Where are we going for dinner?”
“The Harbor View. Their food looked really good, and I wanted to take you someplace nice. Why?”
Darren sighed. “Umm, I work there two nights a week. That’s my third job. I’m a server there too.”
Chet glanced over as Darren looked down at his feet. “Do you not want to go? I can cancel the reservation, and we can try someplace else.” He pulled off the side of the road. “It’s perfectly okay. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” His grandmother had always told him that manners mattered, and that if you were hosting someone, it was your job to make them feel welcome.
“No. It’s okay. The food there is tasty, and they’re good people. If you made a reservation, then they will have held a table. If we cancel, then the restaurant and the server will suffer, and I don’t want that.” He smiled. “Please, let’s just have dinner. I’m sorry I said anything.”
Before he pulled out, Chet lightly touched Darren’s arm. “Don’t be. Honesty is really important.” He took a deep breath and held it. “In the world I come from, it’s all games and power plays. No one is ever really telling the whole truth.”
To his surprise, Darren put his hand on top of Chet’s. “I’m sorry about that. With my grandmother, I always knew I was loved and cared for. There were no games with her. If she was angry or disappointed, she showed it, and when she was happy or proud of me, she would dance me around the room. I always knew where I stood and that I was loved, no matter what.”
Chet always wished he had had that. “It always seemed like I was trying to earn my father’s approval.” He parked the car, and they got out and walked to the restaurant door, where Chet held it for Darren. Inside, he gave his name to the hostess, and she shared a quick smile with Darren. Once at the table, they sat down, and the server brought water and menus. “I’m sorry. I forgot what I was saying.”
“Earning your father’s approval,” Darren said softly, his gaze not leaving Chet’s, like he was truly interested.
“Yeah. He sent me to prep school, and I graduated at the top of the class, won the football trophy, and was head boy—the trifecta. From there, I went to Harvard, graduated, again at the top of my class in business school, before earning an MBA and considering law school. I was accepted to whatever program I wanted. My father barely blinked and didn’t even bother coming to my graduation, where I gave the commencement address.”
Darren drank some of his water. “I think I would have told my father to go screw himself after that. I knew my father until I was five. Then he left my mother. She always said that he didn’t care about us, but I met him again when I was fourteen, and he told me he left because he couldn’t take my mother’s drinking any longer. He said he tried to get custody of me more than once, and I believed him. He and I talk sometimes now. My mother is still alive, but I have nothing to do with her for my own sanity. Being on my own is hard, but she made her own choices, and I refuse to live with them. That’s why I came out here in the first place.”
“You were lucky,” Chet said, “to have a refuge from all the mess. I wish I had.” He really did. “Now I work for my father, but I refuse to give him any real power over my life anymore. That’s part of why I’m here. I needed some time away. My friends are back home, and it’s just me for the next two weeks. I completed my last business deal.”
“What does your family do?”
Chip chuckled. “We make cookies. Lots and lots of them. My great-grandmother made terrific cookies, and her husband was smart enough to build a business around them. They had a bakery in New York, then expanded and made them commercially, using her recipes. They supplied them to restaurants and stores, and the business grew and grew. They are still made today. You would know them as Laura’s.”
Darren’s mouth hung open. “I love those. They taste like real cookies. Grandma never baked, but she always had Laura’s in the house.”
“It’s because we use the same recipe. There have been a few minor changes. The first was so the dough would work in the machines, and the second was so they would last a little longer. But you notice there is still a date on the boxes. That’s because we don’t pump them full of preservatives and that’s why they taste so good. But it also means that we have to keep them fresher and ship them out more quickly. And that’s the deal I’ve been working on for the past three months.” He was pretty proud of it, and whether his father recognized what he’d done was secondary. Somehow, he had managed his father’s changing requirements and the needs of the distributor and gotten a deal that would be good for the company long term.
“Hey, Darren,” Ron said as he came to their table. “Can I take your drink orders?”
