“Mine, too, I think,” Darren said, giving the little ones more carrots.
“All these are weaned goats, and we keep the older goats, the ones we milk, in the barn over there.” She took them through the milking operation and showed them the barn where the youngest mothers and goats were kept. “Over there are the males. We keep them downwind. If you want to go over, you’re welcome to. I usually caution most women not to. The males exhibit extreme levels of testosterone, and it fills the air. Their pheromones are powerful. My husband and I are trying to have a baby, and….”
“We understand,” Chet said gently, checking his watch. “If you want, you could show us how you make the cheese.”
Clair looked sheepish. “The dairy isn’t running on Sundays. But I can take you inside and give you a rundown on the various types of cheese we make, if you’d like. I can also get you set up at a table where you can choose a charcuterie board and taste some wine.”
“Sure. But could we stop by the baby goat barn one more time?” Chet said, and she grinned, taking them back to see the little ones.
“I lovethe way you laugh,” Chet said a while later as they sat in the shade with an amazing cheese and meat board, and their second small glass of wine for tasting.
“I always hated it.”
“No,” Chet said with a smile. “It’s genuine and joyful. And those little goats seemed to love it too.”
“That was the carrots,” Darren said. “But this was fun, and the little ones were so cute.”
Chet nodded. “They were.” He finished his glass and set it aside. “You can go ahead and have some more wine—it’s paid for. But I don’t think I should.” He spread some cheese on a cracker and took a bite. Darren watched him eat over the top of his glass.
“Why are you spending time with me?” Darren asked. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I know your friend was an ass, and you made up for that with your sizeable tip. You didn’t need to take me to dinner or bring me here.” He downed the last of the wine. “You don’t owe me anything, and I sure as hell don’t have anything to offer you. I can barely keep my life together, and you have a life I can barely imagine.”
“Hey, we’re not all that different.”
Darren snickered and rolled his eyes. “You didn’t like the car you rented so you took it back so you could get a convertible to ride through the redwoods. I have a single car, and I use it to go back and forth to Fort Bragg for work and hope like hell it doesn’t break down.” He set down the glass and pushed it away. “I really need some sort of answer. I know I’m just a server, but I need to know why things happen. Maybe it’s because when I was a kid, I never knew why anything happened. People just made decisions, and I was stuck in their wake.”
Chet put up his hands. “Okay. I asked you here because when we had dinner, I liked you. Yeah, the conversation was heavier than I’m used to, but do you think I tell everyone about my messed-up family? I don’t. I never talk about it. I’ve spent my life pretending to myself and others that my life was perfect. The guys I was with think I have this amazing life. I don’t. Mine is as messed up as yours, just with more money, and when all you want is someone’s approval, money doesn’t mean anything. They can just shuttle you off to more places than other people.”He picked at the last of one of the meats, putting the pieces in his mouth. “And you are not just a server. I don’t think you’re just… anything.”
Darren could accept that. “But I have to ask. What do you think this is?”
“It’s a day out,” Chet said. “It’s a chance for us to have fun and get out of town. I haven’t spent this much time away from work in years. I needed a break, and an afternoon sitting in the shade, eating a little, talking a little, seeing baby goats—what could be more fun? And as for anything more… well, I don’t have a crystal ball. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or next week. All I know is the here and now.” He stood and grabbed their glasses. “Do you want some more wine?”
“Sure,” Darren said, and Chet went inside and returned with another wine for him and a glass of grape juice for himself. He also brought out more cheese and crackers, and they munched, drank, and talked away the afternoon.
Darren was a little toasted by the time they got back in the car for the return ride to town. He lay back, top down, loving the sun on his skin. “What’s it like in New York?”
“Noisy, fast, rough,” Chet said. “That’s the city itself. My family lives high above it, so it’s quieter, and there are doormen, exclusive elevators, and even security cameras between us and the general population. The apartment is huge and filled with pieces of art and antiques that any museum would kill to have, collected over time and passed from generation to generation. My grandfather bought the place, and it will eventually pass to me. I’m expected to step into my dad’s shoes and run the company when he retires. It was all planned out before I was born.”
“You mean you don’t really have a choice in what you’ll do?” That was something that blew his mind.
“In any practical way, no. I could not take the job and then find someone to run the company for me, but then who knows what would happen. I could sell the whole business, but then every ancestor who worked their heart out to make the business a success would jump out of their graves and haunt me.” He smiled and then shrugged.
“So you’ll take over for your father?”
“I will because I have to. But it’s not what I really want to do. I would love to work with kids and help them get a start in life. The family has an arts foundation. They sponsor performances of the Met and other theater groups. It’s all very self-serving. They get their name in every program and on every poster and bit of promotion. Then their colleagues and friends seek them out for business and private deals. Yes, the family makes cookies, but my father has made even more money in real estate. We now own two buildings in New York worth many millions, and they are full of tenants who pay millions a month in rent. It’s all about money, money, and more money. I really want to help people. Show them that they can make a good life for themselves. Give them the skills to be successful. That’s what I’d really like to do.”
To Darren, it seemed pretty simple. “Then why don’t you do it? I mean, you have a choice in how you spend your time. You can still do what your father wants but do what you want too. Make a deal with him, I guess. You’ll do a deal for him, but then you get some time to do what you want.”
Chet nodded slowly. “There’s only one problem. My family would try to use my work for PR. They are always about the optics. So, I’d be out there helping people, and they would be touting my work to everyone to make themselves look good. But you’re right. If I want to make a difference, then I should do that and not let my father have a say or even know about it. There are ways to do a lot of good without having your name attached.” Hecontinued driving out of the valley and into the redwoods. The temperature dropped a little with each passing mile, and by the time they reached the coast once more, it was in the fifties and the coastal fog had rolled in, obscuring the sun.
To Darren, it felt like his day of fun was coming to an end and even the clouds and sea knew it.
“Should I drop you off at work?”
“No. I need to go to the house and change my clothes,” Darren said as they entered Mendocino. Chet pulled up in front of the house, and Darren turned toward him. “Thank you for one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.” He was about to leave the car when he pivoted and leaned over the console, giving Chet a gentle kiss that sent a jolt of electricity down his spine. They straightened up in the seat, and Darren opened the car door to get out of the car.
“Can I see you again?” Chet asked, almost like they were courting or something. It seemed so old-fashioned, yet refreshing. The last time he had been in a similar situation, the guy had asked if he wanted to come up for a fuck. He had turned him down, and Darren was tempted to do the same thing here.
He had had a great day, but there was no need to repeat it. He had to be to work in an hour, and he had tomorrow morning to get a weeks’ worth of chores done. From there, his week was filled with his full-time job at the butcher shop and shifts at the restaurants. Darren really didn’t have the time to see anyone, and the thought sent an overwhelming sense of sadness running through him. His grandmother would hate that he was living like this. She had always said that work was fine, but a person also needed a chance to have some fun,
