Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
His packed bags sat by the front door. Their last night together was over.
Chet munched on a piece of toast, sitting at Darren’s small table with a plate in front of him.
Darren skittered around, cleaning up the kitchen from their snack last night, what little there was to do.
Chet understood. It was just Darren’s way of keeping busy, so he didn’t dwell.
Chet was doing his best to do the same thing.
He finished his toast, rinsed the plate, and set it in the sink with the few other nearly clean dishes.
“I know you have to go to work,” Chet said.
“Yeah.” Darren checked the time and headed for the door. “I’ll help you get your luggage loaded and then I have to go.” He swallowed hard, grabbed one of the suitcases, and hefted it before heading out the door. Chet followed him with the other, and they got them into the trunk of the rental car.
“I don’t quite know what to say,” Chet said softly.
His throat was scratchy, and leaving was something he didn’t want to do, but he had to go back to his life and let Darren move forward with his.
He had obligations he couldn’t just walk away from.
Chet sighed and grabbed Darren by the belt, tugging him closer.
“I don’t either.” Darren’s voice nearly broke, and Chet kissed him and then held him tightly. Maybe this was one of those times when words just didn’t say enough. “Travel safe and all those sorts of things seem really kind of dumb.” He stepped back. “Take care of yourself, and we have phones.”
“Yes. I’ll let you know when I get home.
” He stood there by the car, not sure what to say next.
Darren hugged him once more and then hurried back into the house.
Chet climbed into the car, took a last look around, and then started the engine and slowly pulled away.
As he drove down the street, he saw Darren in his rear-view mirror walking down the street behind him.
He was tempted to turn around and offer him a ride, but it was time to go.
At the corner, he took a final glance and then made the turn, heading toward Highway 1, where he went south and began the four-hour drive to the airport.
He’d done this drive before, and it was no big deal, but the last time, he’d been with friends, so he’d had someone to talk with.
Now, it was just him, and he had plenty of time to think about what he was leaving behind.
Chet hoped that the farther he got and the more distance he put between him and Darren, the better he’d feel.
But as the hours ticked by, he didn’t know what he felt.
The only thing he was sure of was that he wasn’t looking forward to things returning to how they’d always been at home.
It seemed like he had been traveling forever.
The drive to the airport, turning in the rental car, getting to his flight and flying across the country to LaGuardia, and then the trip into the city, fighting traffic the entire way.
By the time the Uber pulled up in front of his building, Chet was exhausted.
He got the luggage, and thankfully the doorman helped him with one of the bags and to the elevator.
Once inside the apartment, he unpacked and tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry. Then he hit the shower and dressed comfortably after, sitting on the sofa, looking out over the city through his large plate-glass windows.
His building was old, a little quirky, and he loved it.
The apartment had been purchased by his grandmother after his grandfather passed away.
She wanted a smaller place and left the large family home with his parents.
Once she passed, she left the apartment to him, and Chet had always been grateful.
The apartment had character. The outdoor space was the fire escape, but he had a few chairs out there and loved to sit out in the evenings.
He never told his parents, but the fire escape was where Grandma went when she wanted to smoke… and Grandma always had the good stuff.
He opened the window and stepped out, breathing in the city air.
There was a soupiness from the rivers and the humidity, but it was completely different than Mendocino.
The air here felt heavy, scented with pressure and drive, even with a constant breeze, where the air out west had been clean, fresh, and head clearing.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out, reading the message—okay, demand—from his father to see him at ten the following morning.
Chet sighed and answered him before sending a text to Darren to let him know that he had made it home.
Even though he had been traveling forever, and it was late here, his body still felt like it was much earlier.
He thought of Darren for a few minutes, but then he had to go to work.
Chet thought of trying to go to bed but wasn’t sure how successful that was going to be, so he closed the window, set the air-conditioning, and settled on the sofa with a movie.
But he ended up ignoring it as his thoughts kept wandering to Darren and what he was doing.
Judging by the time, Darren was serving his customers at The Pub or at the Harbor View.
Either way, he had been working for many hours and still had more to go.
“I’m such a slacker…,” Chet chastised as he shook his head.
“You miss him, and you can admit that,” he told himself out loud, not that it seemed to help.
Chet forced himself to watch the movie for a while before giving up and going to bed. It was time to get back to the grind.
“Are you listening to me?” his father asked as Chet looked out the window of the corner office downtown. The view of the city was amazing.
“Yes, I’m listening. The distribution deal I set up is already doing more than the previous contract.
I heard.” He stared past the view, not really seeing the sea of skyscrapers, at least for a moment.
Instead, the Pacific stretched out in front of him.
“And the company is doing well.” He put his hands behind his back.
“When is our lease up on these offices?” Chet asked.
“Excuse me? We don’t lease this space. We own it and have for nearly twenty years.”
“Good. So, when you retire, I can sell it… all of it.” He turned around slowly.
“We’re not in the real estate business, we’re in the cookie business, so we can sell what isn’t producing revenue and put that money back into the business itself.
” He didn’t have to look to know that his father was as pale as a ghost. The man loved this office and the location.
“Where did that come from?” his father asked, his voice shaky. “This—”
“Is just an office and an expensive piece of property. The floors above are all being converted into living space. So why not this? The view is wonderful, and this space would yield forty, fifty million dollars once converted.” He smiled to himself, knowing he had put his father completely off balance, which was exactly why he was doing this.
“I think you and I need to have a conversation about our vision for the company,” his father said levelly.
Chet finally turned around. “What you mean is, your vision for the company, which isn’t going to matter once you retire.
” He met his father’s gaze. “But that’s immaterial right now.
Just know that I want different things than you do.
That’s my point here.” He went back over to the desk and sat down.
“Now, you asked for this meeting. What was it you wanted?”
“With the new contracts, it’s clear we’re going to need to increase capacity.” His father held a few reports.
“No, we don’t. I figured this could happen, and I also included projections of ten and twenty percent increases, which we can easily handle.
If it gets more than that, then we can add a shift or two at the plant.
We have six running now, and we can add more without any issues.
We don’t need to expand our capacity, just use what we have more efficiently.
It’s all in the report I sent you months ago.
” He got up once more and wandered back to the windows.
“I used to come up here as a kid and play in that corner. I used to pretend that the windows opened and that I could fly out of them and soar above the city.”
“What does that have to do with the price of flour?” his father asked.
“Nothing. Other than I used to have fun here. This space used to make me happy.” He turned to his dad. “Does it make you happy? Are you happy doing what you’re doing?”
His father looked like Chet had just asked him for the secrets of the universe.
“Of course I’m happy. The business is chugging along and making plenty of money, and it’s going to continue to grow.
I have people working on some new products that will fit our lines.
And my son is next to take over for me. What more could I want? ”
Chet should have known that was all his father was concerned about. “What about someone to share your life with. I know that you and Mom….”
“Your mother was far from perfect, but I can’t see myself finding someone else to fill her shoes.” His gaze turned hard, tinged with regret.
“Okay. So, you’re going to work yourself to death, and you expect me to do the same thing. I’m not. I want more out of life than that.”
His father stood and smiled. “Good. Go out, get married, have children to carry on the company. Make a life for yourself, and then you can take over for me, and your sons will take over after you.”
Chet groaned. “You know I’m gay, so there will be no wife.”
“I don’t care if you marry a man, just have children. Your children. Whatever floats your boat. There are great families in New York, and a lot of them have gay sons. We can find someone for you.”