Spanish Bay (10 page)

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Authors: Hans M Hirschi

BOOK: Spanish Bay
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“Don’t underestimate yourself, Chris, but I’ll be here, at your side, every step of the way. By the way, did you know that my mom does the taxes for half the town? She’s like the nemesis of the IRS. She’s super cool and has never once lost against Washington. So don’t worry. If Sally wants you to run the café, go for it, if that’s what you want?”

Chris was leaning back into Neil, enjoying the comfort from his boyfriend. “Do I want the café? Neil, this would be a dream come true. My own, my very own business? Are you kidding? I’m just not sure I can afford it. I’m not very good with numbers.”

Having Chris in his lap was doing all kinds of things to Neil, and for the time being, he had lost all interest in the café. “Why don’t we go over the numbers tonight, after we close? I’m sure Mom and Dad would be happy to help. You still have the books right?” Neil nibbled Chris’s earlobe, sucking on it, and making him giggle.

“Stop it! Yes, I have the books. Okay, let’s get to work, before I get a hard-on right here in the café. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Neil pushed Chris off in a mock dismissive motion. “Too late, but at least no one notices a cripple with a boner…”

Chris instantly turned serious. “Don’t ever use that word, not even on yourself. You’re an amazing, beautiful human being—you just come with your own set of wheels. How can you expect others to respect you if you don’t?”

Neil felt chastised, and he blushed. He muttered a
sorry
, knowing full well that Chris was right. “Can you forgive me?”

Chris’s kiss was his answer. “Now let’s get to work!”

Chapter Nine: The Café

THEY HAD SPENT the entire evening poring over the books, crunching numbers. Everyone pitched in, even Phil, who was anxious to get a good summer job. They looked at the cost of running the building…

Have you considered moving into the building?

There’s a loft upstairs, might help you save on rent, heating, water, electricity.

…and the costs for supplies…

If you made some of your own stuff…

You could probably save some money here…

…and expansion plans…

You could increase your revenue if you turned the back lot into some sort of quiet, romantic getaway, you know, with lamps and stuff…

…and staff…

I can work all summer, that’s when there are most people anyway, and if Phil really wants to pitch in, he can help out some evenings or weekends.

…and finances…

Just saying, but Sally’s not been very good at doing her taxes. There are quite a few deductions we could make. If Neil works regular hours we can get some tax credit for that…

Sarah was all professional, but noticing Neil’s expression, she said, “Don’t give me that look. I’m just saying you should be smart about it. There are state and federal tax credits for businesses that employ staff with disabilities. That is not a comment on you as a person, but why should Washington and Sacramento get money just because my son has a pride stick up his ass?”

They all laughed at that comment, realizing Sarah was right. It was a way to save money, pure and simple.

By the end of the evening, or night, they had come up with a proposal to present to Sally and Samantha.

Later, in bed, Neil asked Chris, “Have you actually been upstairs at the café? I’m not sure what the loft Dad was talking about looks like. I’ve never seen Sally use it for anything. It might need a lot of work.”

“Hmm, I know. I’ve never been upstairs—I never even gave it much thought. My mind’s still reeling with all the other stuff we were talking about. I’m so glad I have you guys to help me through all this. I’m not sure I could do this alone.”

“Well,
boyfriend
, you aren’t alone. You’re stuck with me now, and
we
are going to make this work. If that’s what you want?”

Chris turned over and put his arm around Neil, kissing him on his cheek. “That almost sounded like a proposal…”

Neil smiled into the dark room. “You can interpret it any way you like, just don’t tell my mom and dad. They’d have a heart attack. I like your thinking, though…”

“I love you, Neil.”

“I love you, too. Let’s get some sleep. I’m beat.”

“Oh no, you’re not, not yet…”

***

On Wednesday, Chris and Neil went to inspect the upstairs room of the café, and they were stunned by what they found. The loft was dusty, and Chris could tell that it hadn’t been used for some time, but there was a beautiful kitchen in one corner, a modern bathroom with hot tub and separate shower, a living room connected to the kitchen in an open-plan solution, and a couple of bedrooms. Given the building had a three-thousand-feet area, the loft was huge, and there was plenty of space to move around. Both Chris and Neil immediately concluded it would be perfect.

“Wow, this place is amazing. Look at the size of the place. My chair would even fit in here.”

“Yeah. I wonder why Sally didn’t sublet? Look, if we took out the threshold to the bathroom, you could easily live here, too.”

“I like your thinking, but we’d also need to make the bedroom door a bit bigger, and I’d need an elevator to get up here. I can’t very well expect you to carry me up the stairs every time.”

The boys laughed and were quite giddy at their discovery.

“Do you think I have to increase my offer?” Chris asked. “This is…wow. I’m not sure I can afford this, not with this apartment. Why didn’t Sally mention it?”

“Well, maybe she forgot. After all, she’s just had a stroke.”

Chris was pensive. Maybe this was too good to be true after all, and it was time for a reality check. Even if this place was absolutely amazing for him and Neil—a dream come true, really—it was just that. A dream. They had no money to build an elevator, and without a way for Neil to independently get up and down the stairs, it would never work.

The meeting with Sally the next day turned out to be a somber affair. Chris went through the figures, but he could see Sally was quickly tiring, so he rushed through as quickly as he could. When he mentioned the loft, Samantha eyes widened in amazement. She had obviously never known there was a loft, nor that her sister had decorated the upper floor of the café building.

Sally tried to formulate her words—“Mah-n-gr, u-se l-l-ev the”—but she failed to make herself understood. Instead she asked for a pen and scribbled down on paper.

 

The previous manager used to rent it, but he quit six months ago. Moved to LA. I had it redecorated a few years ago. Figured I may want to move closer to town as I got older.

 

She handed the note to Chris, who read it out loud.

“In that case, you may want to reconsider your offer, Chris,” Samantha said. “If the upstairs condo really is as nice as you say, we may need a better offer to move forward.”

Chris knew this would happen and felt the air leave his lungs. He would not be able to do this.

But Sally shook her head. “No, Kh-rees, u t-t-ake it.” She gestured that she’d had enough.

Samantha gave Chris a stern look. “We’ll draw up the contracts and have them sent to you. Good luck.”

Chris got up and hugged Sally. “Take good care of yourself, Sally. I’m just the caretaker, remember? This will
always
be Sally’s Café.”

Sally had tears in her eyes and she struggled to respond. “No, now Kh-rees Kha-fé, yours!” She lifted her right arm and pointed to Chris, with emphasis.

Chris shook Samantha’s hand and left the two sisters to slug it out between them, but Chris knew that Sally wouldn’t budge. She’d want him to run the place, based on the numbers he’d presented. The loft was a surprise—icing on the cake—and he’d save a few hundred dollars a month on rent, plus he was happy to get out of the dump he was renting. Living right on top of the café would also have the advantage of not having to drive to work and getting a few minutes of extra sleep every day,
unless we start to bake our own stuff…
Chris left the room and looked back, one more time, wondering if he’d ever see Sally again.

***

Two weeks after Sally and Samantha had flown to New York in an ambulance plane, the UPS man came by the café with a letter.
The contracts!
Excited, Chris opened the envelope. There were pages after pages of legal babble, and he and Neil were searching for the real clues—had Samantha managed to convince Sally to increase the rent on the property to account for the value of the loft? Chris was surprised when he found the provisions for rent. Not only had Sally made sure the café was rent free the first year, the full rent proposed by Chris would not be charged until the fifth year of the lease, and the option to buy the café was also very reasonably priced. There was a handwritten note from Samantha attached to the contract:

 

Hello Christopher!

 

Here are the contracts for the café and the building.

 

I hope you find Sally’s terms acceptable. My sister is adamant you will be successful, hence the incremental steps in terms of rent. If you accept her offer, please sign both copies and return them to me.

 

I’ll have them countersigned by Sally and notarized.

 

My sister is doing well, all things considered, and she is responding positively to the rehabilitation treatment. She sends her regards and love.

 

Good luck,

Samantha

 

Chris reread the note a dozen times, and he still couldn’t believe it. Neil, on the other hand, was wheeling around the café, super happy and excited about his boyfriend’s luck. With these terms, not only did they have a fighting chance, there might even be a shot at being able to pursue their expansion plans for the back yard: the romantic evening café. And in time, they’d find a way to build the elevator so that Neil could move in with Chris, but for now, he’d just have to be patient, and either rely on his help or stay at his parents’ house.

The Horners went out to dinner that night, compliments of Chris, who had saved up so he could invite them. It may not have been as fancy a place as he’d been taken to—out on the Monterey peninsula—but that didn’t really matter. Tonight, Chris was the king of the world, and even the local Carmel burger joint felt like a prize restaurant.

Chapter Ten: Life

LIFE WAS GOOD. There was no other way to describe things in Carmel that summer. Neil was happy. He’d finally graduated from high school, he’d left his bullies behind, and even the most unattainable people—like Stacy, the school’s most popular girl, who had spoken to him at his graduation—had acknowledged not only his existence, but his boyfriend as well. No haughty remarks, just a human contact.

Then there was, of course, Chris. After the contracts had been signed, Chris poured his soul into the café, working day and night to make sure it remained popular with the locals. Sally’s would remain Sally’s, even under new management. Chris moved into the upstairs condo, and Neil spent most of his nights there. Neil was proud to be able to help out in the café in any capacity; the only thing he couldn’t do was stand behind the counter and sell, but he could talk to customers, clear tables, do dishes, order supplies and restock the fridge and shelves.

Summer went by in a frenzy, bringing the two closer together, and Neil got the impression that his parents, slowly but surely, had started to accept that Chris had found a permanent spot in their son’s heart and that their relationship would hold. His mom helped out with the books, made sure taxes and invoices were paid in time, and all permits stayed up to date. Phil also worked a few hours every weekend, though he preferred spending time with his skating friends. Natalie still helped out whenever she was available and they needed her.

Days and weeks went by, and with the approach of August came the promise of fall, and Neil’s first semester in college. Despite Chris’s willingness to drive him between home and the café, Neil had practically moved in with Chris, and one night before classes started, his parents invited them both over for dinner. They left Natalie to close the café and drove to the house. The lights outside the house were turned off, which surprised Neil, as his mom was very picky about having the house lit from dusk to dawn. She’d once been burgled and had been worried ever since.

“Maybe there’s a problem with one of the fuses,” Neil speculated. “I’ll have a look when I get inside.”

There was a pickup truck in the driveway, forcing the boys to park curbside.

“Guests?” Chris guessed, as they passed the pickup truck on their way to the door.

“I don't know. I’ve never seen this car before. Probably someone from Dad’s office.”

They went inside the house and found the family already sitting at the dinner table.

“Hey, boys,” Neil’s mom called. “Come right in. Dinner was ready, so we just sat down. I hope you don’t mind?”

Chris looked at Neil, and they exchanged a glance.
What’s going on here?
It was very un-Mom-like to sit down at a table without her guests present. They took their places respectively and watched on, as his mom served her delicious meat loaf and mashed potatoes.

“Dad, there’s a car in our driveway. I thought you might have guests over?”

Neil’s dad had his mouth full of food and pointed at his mouth as he shook his head.

“Yeah, I get it, no talking with food in your mouth.”

But even after having swallowed, his dad didn’t reply. Neil gave his brother a look, but he just shrugged and looked down at his plate again. Something was definitely off.

“Guys, please?” Neil pleaded. “What’s going on? Did I do something? Is Grandma all right?”

“Of course Grandma is all right,” his mom said. “Running out of weed is about the only thing that would affect her. We have a little surprise for you. Let’s just eat up first, okay?”

Neil glanced at Chris, who smiled. They had no clue what was going on, but never before, in the history of the Horner family, had a meal been devoured as quickly as this one. They tore through that meat loaf in no time, and the mashed potatoes were downed with huge gulps of water. Even the salad—usually not a favorite among the men of the Horner family—was gone in the blink of an eye.

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