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“Aw, shucks, son,” said David, squirting the Windex at an imaginary smear and proceeding to rub it out vigorously. “I’ve been too busy working and raising you.”
“Sorry, that excuse doesn’t work for you anymore,” Dean replied. “Not since you retired from the plumbing union last year. You don’t have to help me here at the bakery – you could be off living the good life in the Caribbean with some hottie on your arm.”
David guffawed. “I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon, boy. Besides, I love working here with you. Maybe a little too much.” He patted his rounded belly.
“Never say never,” Dean said as he lifted the seal on the envelope from the network. “What’s this?” he muttered, drawing out a stack of papers neatly stapled together in the left-hand corner.
“What’ve you got there?” asked David, coming over to join Dean at the table. “Something fromWedding Baker?”
“Yep,” said Dean, riffling through the pages. “Looks like all the information for the competition. Includes flight arrangements, hotel, itinerary for the week, official rules, etcetera.”
“You’re going to have an amazing experience,” said David, leaning his elbows on the marble tabletop. “Proud of you.”
“Wait a minute,” said Dean, stopping to read a section more closely. “It says I can bring someone with me to be my helper.” He glanced up at his dad’s rugged countenance. “Whaddya say, Pops? Ready for fame and fortune?”
David grinned. “Right after you, son.”
“As long as we beat Josie Taylor, I’ll consider it a win,” Dean muttered, shoving the paperwork back into the manila envelope.
His father shook his head. “What is it that you and that girl have against each other, anyway? You’ve been fighting like cats and dogs ever since elementary school over everything from whose team would win at kickball to whose physics project would win the blue ribbon at the science fair.”
Dean reflected. He couldn’t remember evernotbeing competitive with Josie. In fact, Josie Taylor was part of what had given him the motivation and drive to test his limits and push himself just a little bit harder. He loved to see how furious it made her whenever he took the top prize. He chuckled, recalling the fire that flashed in her big brown doe eyes when she looked at him after he won the vote for Class President their junior year. Yep, that was definitely worth going out for the title in the first place.
“Aw, I don’t know, Dad,” he said. “I really don’t remember how our feud started. It probably began in kindergarten when I pulled her little pigtails. She must not have found that as funny as I did. What can I say? We’ve just always been like that. What’s that expression – like oil and water. Josie and I just don’t mix.” Admittedly, he actually kind of enjoyed getting under her skin, just because he could.
“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware of this,” David continued. “But her father, Roger, passed away suddenly a few years back while you were in France.”
Dean was surprised. “No, I didn’t know that, but I’m truly sorry to hear it. I remember her dad sitting in the stands with her mom and older sister at our sports games and whatnot.”
David was glum. “I always liked Roger. Nancy, too, for that matter. Good people. He had a heart attack, from what I understand. Happened out of the blue while he was out on the golf course.”
“That’s a shame,” said Dean. “I wonder how Josie’s doing?”
“I don’t know,” David replied. “But I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to ask her yourself once we’re in New York.”
