“So, I went for it. I did culinary school on the weekends while working full-time and after I graduated, I quit my job and used a whole lot of my savings to open my truck.”
For a moment he hesitated as if he was looking for what to say in response.. “It’s really great how supportive your family is, Nesto. It must be nice to have them close by again.”
I kept my attention on the road, but the yearning in his voice made me wonder what he wasn’t saying.
I smiled thinking of my mom and how she’d gotten on my case about asking Jude out. “It’s not easy running a business on your own, having them to help out makes a huge difference.”
“I’m glad you have them.”
I wanted to ask about that longing in his voice but suspected it would shift the mood in another direction.
“I hope someday I can repay my mom for everything she’s done for me and my sister. My dad was a bum, he wasn’t really around by the time I was born, and Minerva’s dad,” I shook my head. “he was a nice guy but not exactly looking to be a family man.”
I pursed my lips, thinking on how hard it was sometimes to take on something that felt so big on my own, and how my mom had done it for so long. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to rely on someone other than family for help. To have, as my mom told me this afternoon, someone to help carry my burdens with me.
“I’m sure she’s glad to help you.”
I jerked my head at the sound of his voice and muttered quietly into the space between us, “I know she is.”
We made small talk for the last few minutes of the drive and before I knew it, we were pulling up to his house. Jude lifted his hand pointing ahead. “That’s me.”
I stopped right in front of his driveway and turned my head to get a good look at it. It was so pretty from outside. It was alittle colonial, painted navy blue with gray shutters. His garden was in full bloom with lots of tulips and daffodils.
Having lived in the city my whole life, I never envisioned living anywhere other than an apartment. But seeing Jude’s house, I got an image of myself walking up the pathway and opening the door to find him there waiting for me curled up on the sofa.
Andthat’swhen I knew I needed to get my ass to bed, because this had to be some sort of exhaustion induced delusion. I was already moving myself into the guy’s house, and we’d known each other for ten hours. “I had a great time tonight. I feel like we have some unfinished business, but I don’t want to be too much of a thirsty motherfucker and invite myself in.”
He laughed, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “You’ll get an invitation. Eventually. I had a nice time, too, Nesto. Thanks for the ride.”
With that he got out of the car and walked up to his door. Cool, calm, and collected. Meanwhile I felt like a hot mess and was going home to jerk off until my hand went numb. I sighed and rested my forehead on the steering wheel. I had a feeling this would not be the last time Jude would leave me panting.
chapter seven
nesto
“Mr. Nesto! I think we lost Ari!” I turned my eyes from the road for a second to look at the passenger seat and saw Yin, one of my two brand new employees, with his head and half of his torso sticking out of the truck window.
“Yin! Put your seat belt back on and relax. He’s right behind us.” Yin was highly concerned his partner in crime, and my other new staff member, Ari, would be somehow lost forever in the fifteen miles between Trumansburg and Ithaca.
I’d given Ari my car to drive this morning after he handed over his brand-new New York State driver’s license and assured me driving in Ithaca was child’s play for someone who learned to drive in the streets of his hometown, Kinshasa, the capital city of Democratic Republic of Congo. Having gotten my first driving lessons in the South Bronx, I could relate and decided to entrust him with my Prius. Yin on the other hand, spent his teenage years in a Thai refugee camp and did not trust motorists or roads in the slightest. He kept craning his neck to look behind us trying to make sure he didn’t lose sight of Ari for too long.
I laughed and tugged on his seat belt. “He’s fine. He has the directions on his phone; he probably got caught up in the traffic light behind us. And just call me Nesto, the ‘mister’ makes me feel old!”
Yin smiled and nodded but didn’t look very convinced. After a moment he sat back down to review his checklist. I hired Yin and Ari the day after I contacted a friend of Pri’s who worked at a local nonprofit, which helped refugees and immigrants with job placement. I’d called her up, told her what I needed, and she informed me I was in luck, because she was looking to place two young men with experience in food service who were fresh out of a course in food hygiene and preparation. I told her I would love to talk to them, but that I was gay, and was not going to hide it, so if it was an issue I’d rather not get their hopes up.
She happily let me know these two young men had been referred to her by the LGBTQ youth center in town. So, I met them at a local coffee shop that afternoon, we talked for a bit, and I hired them on a trial basis. They’d been with me for over a week now, and so far, it was the best business decision I’d made in Ithaca. I had never seen two people more excited to come and work their asses off for sixteen bucks an hour.
Yin, who had worked at a restaurant in Thailand for years, after his family left Burma, was a born food truck man. He could work in any space, no matter how small or hot it got in there, and he was militant about organization.
Today was our first time at the Farmers’ Market, and he showed up at the kitchen at the crack of dawn looking impeccable in his OuNYe t-shirt and jeans, which I suspected were dry cleaned for the occasion. He had a clipboard in hand, with a comprehensive checklist of everything we needed to get the truck ready for the market. Underthatlist he had one with everything we needed to get the truckoutof the market.
I liked the kid, but damn, he did the most.
“Looks like we have more than two hours to set up before market opens, since we’ll be there before 7:15 a.m.,” he said with a nod.
As we drove out of Trumansburg I tried very hard not to stalkerishly look at Jude’s house to see if I spotted him, but like every other time I’d driven by his place this week, if he was in, I couldn’t tell from the street. I sighed inwardly and put my eyes back on the road. The guy completely ghosted me after the night I saw him at Ophelia’s over a week ago.
I mean it’s not like we were going steady or anything, but I thought we’d had a moment. I’d at least expected him to come by the truck and say ‘hey’ or something, butnada. He was totally out of sight. Carmen stopped by the truck a couple of times to get orders way too large for one person, but things were so busy I didn’t get a chance to ask her about him.
