Page 20 of Leo
Swirling a fry through the house dipping sauce, I asked, “And how’d you end up down here from Oregon?It’s a long way between sunny Gaynor Beach and your hometown.”
“Ah.Well… My Aunt Sharon, she’d been helping out with Bethany after Mom and Dad died.They’d actually moved down here for Dad’s job, but it was the middle of the school year, so Bethany was going to finish out the semester and then move down over Christmas break.She was staying with Aunt Sharon already, and I’d just graduated with my bachelor’s and was home, trying to figure out what to do next.The accident happened and…” He shrugged.“Well.We buried them here because they loved the place so much.Neither of them had been happy in Oregon—they were both originally from Southern California.After I was done with cooking school, Aunt Sharon was ready to head back out on the road again, so we arranged for the house to become a rental and I moved Bethany down here to take over Mom and Dad’s place.Aunt Sharon was renting it out as a vacation home in the meantime and after the last guest was out, we were in.Pendelton wasn’t good for Bethany—it’s a great town for a lot of people but she wasn’t doing well with the crowd there, and there were too many memories of Mom and Dad for her, I think.”
“But not here?”
He shook his head.“She never knew them here.She’d never visited with them.They were up at home almost every weekend, racking up those frequent flier miles.”He chuckled bleakly.“Enough of me being depressing.Tell me how you became a funeral director.”
“That’s usually not what people say when they want something not depressing,” I teased lightly, and he snorted.“It’s a family thing.My father and uncles all do it, their father and grandfather… All the way back to the first Morrises that came here.Maybe even before then.Mom was a school secretary before I was born but when Dad took over the home in Sacramento from Grandpa, she stepped in as office manager and they’ve been at it for decades as a team.”
We leaned back as the server came to take our plates, both of us refusing dessert.Ambrose asked for the check and waved me off when I tried to pay for my half.“Next time,” he said, giving me a small, hopeful smile.I nodded, and his smile bloomed.
“So, how’d you end up down here if your parents are in Sacramento?”
“Naomi,” I said.“My best friend.My father wasn’t thrilled with my choices—I went to a different mortuary sciences program than the one he did, for starters.He got an associates at a school in Sacramento, I decided to get my bachelor’s and the only place in the state offering one was in Cypress.My Uncle Benson was running a branch of the family business here in Gaynor Beach so when it came time for my practicum and doing the clinical end of things, I was able to work with him for the hours.Turns out my ideas of what a funeral director should be and do were closer to my Uncle Benson’s than my dad’s.And the fact Gaynor Beach is so queer friendly and has a large LGBTQI-plus community was also a huge draw.I also knew I wanted to be a dad, and Naomi offered to carry the embryo, so staying down here just made sense.”I stood and he joined me.“Oldest story in the world,” I added with a wink and grin.
“A regular fairy tale,” he agreed, eyes sparkling.We made our way between the crowded tables and out into the narrow strip of parking lot, reaching his car first.“So,” he said.“Do we continue to part two of our date, or do we say goodbye here?”
“I’ve been having a great time,” I admitted.“I’m not sure how a chamber of commerce meeting is going to go down in the annals of great dates, but if you want to go…”
He shrugged.“Might as well, if they’re expecting you.And besides, I really do want the shop to be a member.Should I follow you, or do you want to drop your car off at your place and I drive?”
We futzed with logistics for a moment and decided he’d leave his car at home, and I’d drive us from there, since he lived closer to the meeting, and I was all the way across town.The drive from his small bungalow was a short one, neither of us talking much but a new energy crackling between us.I caught him looking at my lips more than once, and I was hyper aware of his proximity, the way his hand rested on his thigh, the way my thoughts turned toward wondering what he’d do if I laid my own hand atop his.I didn’t get a chance to find out.We reached the RCC meeting within minutes and found a place to park near the entrance.Every spot in the lot was full and I wondered what the hell was going on.
“Wow, full house.”
“Yeah… Usually there’s not that many of us here.The board and maybe half the members.”
We followed a few of the board members inside, finding a spot along the long conference table to sit at while others milled around, drinking burned coffee and eating boxed store brand cookies.
“Maybe I should’ve brought some from the bakery as a bribe,” Ambrose muttered.“I’m almost offended.I’m the only bakery in town, I’ve been throwing the shop at them for a few years now, but they insist on stale, boxed cookies when they could have something good?Not only good, but something that supports a community member?”
“I feel like that’s a metaphor for the entire RCC experience,” I muttered.Ambrose’s snort was sudden and loud, getting us a few glares from some nearby members.“And you do have great cake.”
Ambrose ducked his head, biting his lip to hold back a laugh.“Really?”he muttered.“Innuendo?In front of the board?”
“What can I say?I live my life on the edge.”
The meeting began within a few minutes and the first half dragged.The usual reading of the minutes from the last meeting, going over procedure, a dry recitation of upcoming RCC events (short version: nothing new, just the usual upcoming town events the chamber liked to tag along at).Finally, just when I thought Ambrose was going to nod off next to me, Willis Dempsey announced it was time for new business and opened the floor to members.
I raised my hand.“I’d like to request that the board consider membership for Nice Buns.The owner”—I nudged Ambrose and he sat up straight—“is here as my guest tonight and has applied in the past, but would like to make his case for membership in person as previous attempts have been either ignored or rejected without reason.”
Dempsey sucked his teeth, exchanging glances with a few of the board members nearest him.“The rejections had plenty of reason.We don’t allow lewd or adult oriented businesses to be members of RCC.It violates the rules of membership.”
A woman dressed head to toe in pink cow print leaned forward, frowning.“That rule was never officially introduced into the RCC’s guidelines.All voting sessions were either tied or strongly against.You can’t just decide the rule exists because you want it to.Wishing doesn’t make it happen.”
“Your comment is noted, Ms.Borden,” Dempsey snapped.“But I believe you’ll find that the rule has been in good standing for five years now.”
Ambrose cleared his throat.“I was under the impression the board did due diligence on applicants and as such would know that I run a bakery with a pun-based name.And even if I didn’t, even if my businesswasadult oriented, why should that exclude it from the Rainbow Chamber of Commerce?”
Dempsey leaned forward, speaking to Ambrose slowly and with that sing-song lilt that told you he was implying nothing good about your powers of comprehension.“Your applications have been refused because your business does not fit the requirements for membership in the chamber of commerce.I suggest you apply to the town’s chamber instead if you’re so dead set on having chamber of commerce support for your business.”
Ambrose opened his mouth, but I was faster.Annoyance, anger, and, I’ll admit it, defensiveness on behalf of Ambrose more than myself spiked hot and hard in my chest.“Mr.Dempsey, I’m lodging a formal complaint about your behavior toward members and potential members of the RCC.You’ve consistently shown prejudice against specific businesses and business owners, treating the RCC bylaws as your personal gatekeeping metric to determine who is worthy of community support based on who you find to be acceptable.”
“I don’t like what you’re implying,” Dempsey snapped.“Mr.Morris, you’re on very thin ice with the chamber.”
“The chamber can kiss my ass,” I snarled.“You can take your respectability bullshit and your dried up cookies and choke on them.”
“Mr.Morris, wait,” Ms.Borden called, rising to her feet as if she was going to stop me from leaving.“Mr.Jennings, Mr.Morris, please sit down.Let’s discuss this—”
