Her words made my ears burn. I tried to be gracious and thank her but the words stumbled out. She pulled me into another hug, tighter this time and then let me go on my way.
I hurried to find Sam. I needed to make a hasty sign for tomorrow that explained the shop would be shut down until the rally and that anybody who wanted to join in was welcome.
I partly hoped Beth would try to protest the empty shop only to have one of her lackey’s come close enough to read the sign and try to counter-protest our rally of hundreds with their scant few.
It really would be almost comical.
24
Thomas
I couldn’t stand the apartment being so empty. So, first thing in the morning I called Sam.
“Hey, do you guys want some breakfast? I’m over here and accidentally made too much, figured you guys might want a big breakfast before everything kicks off.”
I hoped I wasn’t as transparent as it felt. The day had started like any other. I reached for Claire, realized she wasn’t there, felt horrible and sad all over again and then started breakfast. It had become such a normal part of my day that halfway through it I realized I was making enough for two.
For a week or so I was making enough for three since Joanne was staying with us while Claire was sick with the flu.
“Sure dude, you know I can’t pass up your breakfast. It was the only thing that kept me there after the incident,” said Sam.
“Yeah, sorry about that again. We thought you were gone already.”
“Whatever, make it up to me with an extra stack of pancakes and we’re squared away.”
“You got it.”
I was about to hang up when Sam’s voice drifted from my phone, “Don’t forget the ice cream!”
After I hung up, I got to work making enough breakfast for three. By the time I was done dishing out the food she was letting herself into the apartment with a sleepy Jemma in tow.
Without the bakery open, I guess she took the liberty of sleeping in. Most days it was Sam and Jemma opening.
“God, how does he always make it smell so amazing in here?” asked Jemma coming alive.
“My boy is a culinary artist, you can’t stop him from making delicious confections. You know he makes all the shit we usually get out of a box from scratch, have you tried his brownies?” Sam looked over at me. “Yo, baker-boy. You got any brownies left?”
“All out, Sam-I-Am. Come sit and eat your breakfast.”
The pair giggled at the order and settled into their seats. I usually took the seat at the head of the table except when Claire and I ate alone. The dull ache in my chest just wouldn’t let up.
Jemma and Sam sat across from each other, casually chatting about the guests from the shop yesterday. It was something I missed, getting to know the people who drove so far just to try my food. But it was something I had to let go of if I wanted the business to grow.
I couldn’t be everywhere at once.
Especially not when I wanted to be with Claire all the time. She was the real reason I cut back on so much time at the bakery. It was all to spend with her.
“You think this rally is really going to do anything?” asked Jemma.
Sam mumbled something through the pancakes she shoveled into her mouth. I ignored her and looked to Jemma. “I’ve never done anything political before but it can’t hurt. At the very least we’ll make it known how dissatisfied we are.”
It felt lame saying that. What, did you expect to be some sort of revolutionary figure that would lead Sunrise Valley into a new dawn? Get a grip. It’s just a protest.
After a painful-looking swallow, I swear Sam didn’t even chew her food, she said, “I’m hoping we get to throw some rotten produce and yell obscenities at people walking into the building. God, if I only knew that you could harass people legally by protesting something I would have been way more politically active!”
We arrived at Town Hall a few hours later, the single-lane street that split around the Town Hall was clogged with people. I ended up having to park a block up from the Town Hall because there were no other spaces.
“This is ridiculous.” I could barely see through the crowd, so I hopped up on the hood of the Caprice and scanned the early morning street. “There’s got to be at least three hundred people.”
Jemma was fiddling with her phone, her eyes glued to something there. “It’s more like nine hundred,” she corrected. “That’s the current count at least and it’s early yet. This is turning out to be… a lot bigger than any of us thought.”
“Sweet, I’m going to go to the front and hurl abuse at anybody who passes by!” Like a shot from a gun, Sam was off. I lost her almost immediately in the sea of people bundled up against the chill damp of the autumn morning.
“You really outdid yourself,” said Jemma, offering me a hand down. “Claire would be proud. Has she had any new info for us?”
I shook my head. I had checked this morning, as soon as I woke up in fact. Nothing.
Together, Jemma and I made our way through the crowd. Sam left a wake of grumbling people that parted when they saw us coming through, our arms were laden with large boxes bearing the bakery’s name.
Everything that normally would have been made today at A Game of Scones was being donated to the rally along with several other donors from local businesses.
Once we got to the table, Jemma nudged me and set down her burden. “You know, you’re a pretty cool big brother.”
I raised a brow at her. That was, without a doubt, the nicest thing she had ever said to me. “Thanks, and I’m sure you’ll drive me crazy too.”
Her finger poked my chest. “You can count on it.”
It didn’t take long for the tables that were set up to be beset on all sides by people eager to get some free pastries. Tired of the constant butting and people pushing against each other I got up on the plastic chair beside me and stuck to fingers into my mouth letting out a shrill whistle to grab people’s attention.
“Hey! Form a fucking line if you want some food!” I pointed to my left. “Line goes that way.” I nearly got down before I looked back up at all the faces watching me, suddenly self-conscious. Before I could lose my nerve I added, “If I see anybody skipping in line or being uncivil, you’ll get nothing. Be kind.” And then I hopped off.
Sam was at my shoulder, her face red from exertion and her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh man, this is awesome! I just told some dude walking into the building that-”
I put up a hand to forestall her. “I don’t need to know. In fact, the less I know the better. Help me set up, Sam and then you can go back to your harassment.”
She smirked at me, blew out a strand of golden hair that had fallen into her face and began setting out the trays filled with goodies from inside the boxes. I had more in the car and a lot more besides back at the bakery.
I really need to get a truck. I thought, for probably the thousandth time.
There were signs and chanting, people had pictures of their council member on a sign threatening to vote for a recall if they let the bill pass.
The outpouring of support made me grin like a madman. By nine in the morning, the crowd had swelled beyond my wildest imagination and I was beginning to worry. There were so many people and no small number of them were upset.
I could hardly blame them. The council was voting to effectively kill the town and all without much fanfare. These people had a right to decide what they wanted to be done with the place they lived, and the mayor wanted to take that away.
If things turned badly, things could get ugly. With so many people we could have a riot on our hands instead of a peaceful protest.
Despite the turnout, I couldn’t stop thinking about Claire. I worried about her. I was being clingy but I was long past caring. She was going to be my wife and only at that moment did I realize how badly I wanted it. I would have married her right then and there without any celebration if only she would stay by my side.
“H
ey, Thomas!” Joanne waved at me through the crowd and squeezed her tall frame through the press of bodies. “Big turnout, huh?”
“You could say that. Is this your doing?”
She shrugged and looked away humbly. “Who knows. I merely put the word out that the Ingvars had finally gone too far with their scheming. There’s a lot of families who remember the way things were before, back when there was a semblance of balance.”
“What happened?” I had never known a happy Sunrise Valley, mostly because I grew up in the poor part with an abusive family. But a lot of the residents looked back on a golden era that I had apparently missed by about a decade.
I was always curious whether it was rose-tinted glasses or a truly pleasant period of time when things were as perfect as one could get.
“Mayor Gunther got elected. I still remember the constant ads running on the radio, the posters everywhere. You couldn’t spit without it landing on a sign of him. Which, in retrospect, is what most of us should have done.”
Joanne heaved a sigh. “But the past is the past. Nobody really wondered where all that money was coming from and those that did were easily drowned out with all the ads and messages from local businesses. Those same big businesses that pulled up stakes as soon as they could move somewhere cheaper.”
A loud burst of voices rose and rolled through the crowds. People surged toward the Town Hall, fencing it in on all sides. The table nearly got knocked over by a few people scrambling to get by.
“I’m guessing one of the council members just showed up,” I said. “Do you mind manning the station? Just make sure nobody takes like an entire box. I want to go up and see what’s going on.”
“Of course, sweetie. Take your time.”
Sure enough, Councilman Robins was getting abuse hurled his way. He stared at the crowd, his mouth hanging open. I was pretty sure he had never seen such fervent support for anything in all his political life.
His dark eyes scanned the crowds as he slowly went up the steps, every now and then a sign with his face on it snapped his attention before he hurried inside as fast as he could without losing too much dignity by running.
“You’re a coward if you vote this bill into law!” shouted Sam. “You should go crawl back into your mom’s womb, ya pussy!”
The crowd started chanting along with Sam. Some horribly crass string of obscenities that only she could have come up with. She really is in her element.
I managed to push through the surge back to the table. Joanne looked at me. “Everything okay?”
“About as well as could be expected. I’m going to go back to get more pastries, we’re nearly out.”
Most of the day was uneventful. Almost boring, really.
Several people stood up and talked about the importance of a connected economy. I was asked to speak a couple of times and only reiterated what I had said at the smaller meeting and got out of the spotlight as fast as fucking possible.
Several trips were spent back and forth with the bakery. By the time the council adjourned for the day the crowd had swelled to well over a thousand people strong. Voices shouting in a discordant rabble.
Sam, as usual, hurled unhelpful abuse that quickly caught like a spark in dry grass.
She was particularly proud of herself for that. I think, in another life, she would have been a great political strategist. Specializing in smear campaigning.
People came, though many of them I recognized as guests from A Game of Scones and assumed they were here for the free food. A couple tried to pay me for larger orders but I declined. Today wasn’t for making sales, it was to save Sunrise Valley.
“Today went pretty well, don’t you think?” asked Sam as we all sat in my dining room with a round of drinks that night.
I looked up at her, tilted my beer bottle side to side to see how much was left. “If you mean we made an impression, then yes.”
“We did it,” said Jemma. Her eyes sparkled. “We actually fucking did it. Did you see the mayor’s face when he said they would hold off on the vote and put forth a public forum tomorrow to hear the citizen’s grievances? The man looked like he might be sick.”
“You know a lot of people want you to talk to the council at the forum tomorrow. They want you to be our spokesperson, Thomas.”
“I heard that too,” added Jemma.
“Somebody told me what a smart and handsome man you were to set this all up when you could have sold your business for a huge profit and moved to a better city like New York or Albany where there was already a massive market,” added Joanne.
My gaze drifted to her. “That is… oddly specific.”
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Odd, isn’t it what gets put into people’s heads sometimes?”
That woman was full of surprises. By the end of this, I wouldn’t doubt if she was crowned the queen of whisper campaigns.
A part of me admired her for the tenacity to set up all this with a few well-placed words in the right ears. I guess it paid to know all the social intricacies of the various families.
“You know, Joanne. I’m really glad you’re on our side. You are fucking terrifying sometimes,” I said, lifting my bottle to her.
She clinked it with her bottle of non-alcoholic cider. “It feels good to be appreciated. And it feels good to be able to do something good for a change.”
“You know,” said Sam. “I got a call from a few reporters already looking to interview you for setting this all up.”
“Why does everybody think I’m the mastermind behind this?” I asked, looking at each of their faces to see if there was anything that would give them away. One of them was behind it.
Joanne was the most obvious choice, she was scary good at this shadow campaign stuff.
On the other hand, why had Sam gotten the call? Shouldn’t it have come to me? I ruled Jemma out, purely because she didn’t seem to care that deeply to go through the required effort.
“In a way,” said Sam looking at her bottle. “You are. Aren’t you? I mean, it is your store. You were the face of all the marketing that got people to come in and even if you credit Claire with that, it was your food that kept people coming back. A pretty face fades but good food will keep a person coming back time and time again.”
“She’s got a point, you know.” Jemma looked up from her phone. “Claire is good at her job, I’ll give her that. But you can’t make something out of nothing. My sister worked with what she had. I bet if you asked her, she would tell you that all she did was bring awareness to your business. Which if your food was merely decent, it would have flopped as soon as the next social media craze broke and went viral.”
I was still doubtful but I took that as a personal fault more than anything else. I was naturally pessimistic about my own successes, the few that there have been.
“All right,” I said trying to move on. “Tomorrow is the forum and we’ve all had a long day. There’s more food to be made for tomorrow so I think I better get going.”
Sam stood up. “Gavin volunteered to help bake tomorrow if you want, I almost forgot to tell you.”
“All right, I’ll leave him a message tonight. Let him know I’ll be there in the morning.”
“Hey, morning boss!” Bright and eager, Gavin came into the kitchen already wearing his apron.
“How’s it going, Gavin? Ready to make some tasty treats?”
“Always am.” He paused, looked at his rolled-up sleeves then back at me. “You know, I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity you’ve given me. It means a lot. Most people… well, they think I’m a bit of a klutz. I’m slow to learn things and…” His gray-green eyes misted up. “Just, thanks.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Then they’re idiots for not seeing your potential.”
We didn’t talk much for the rest of the morning but something shifted in Gavin. He was at ease in a way that I had never seen him before. He hummed to himself while we worked.
I had taken to playing some jazzh
op in the background while I worked. Just enough to drown out the typical noise coming from the shop front, not that there was any that day. It had never been an issue before. Then again, before Claire came back and saved my business, I didn’t have enough people coming to the shop to cause any noise.
Sam and Jemma both came down to help out with packing everything up so we could take it to the rally. Most of the people outside wouldn’t be able to fit inside the Town Hall for the forum but they would stay outside to make their presence known.
I was not sure it would be a great idea to keep them there. Especially if the forum turned hostile or anything the public got to say was shot down with bullshit canned responses. But there was nothing I could do.
At least if people rioted, they’d have to do it with full bellies.
I was far from convinced we could change the mind of enough council members to swing the vote. The problem was nobody knew how or why they got the idea for the law in the first place.
Many of us assumed Beth had something to do with it, considering she had inside information. With her family’s connections to the politics of Sunrise Valley, it made sense.
It still seemed petty and simple-minded.
“So, you gonna talk at the forum?” asked Sam.
I shrugged, putting away a box of apple cider donuts. “I don’t know what I’d say.”
“Tell them what you told us,” offered Jemma. “Or don’t. Y’know. Whatever.”
With a grin, I packed away the rest of the boxes into the car, and with Sam taking her Kombi to the rally we were able to stuff it full of most of the other boxes.
“Are you sure you want to stay here and keep working, Gavin? You could come to the rally if you wanted or go home,” I said looking at the young man with his mop of blonde hair bent over his attempt at a croissant.
Bun in Her Oven Page 17