I can smell the coffee already brewing when I walk back out of the bedroom with a fresh shirt on. I look up from my phone, where Charlie texted me asking if I can find the time to talk today. I know I've been avoiding him these last few weeks, but some of it isn't on purpose. I do my work in the mornings, sometimes he joins me, but then I'm either getting ready to head into the city or I skip out on family dinner to study. Other days, I just come back home for a bit or take Zula out for a ride.
My phone clatters on the kitchen table, making myself and Bennett jump. I didn't mean for it to make such a loud noise. "Everything okay?"
I tilt my head side-to-side and shrug. "My brother wants to sit down and talk today. I've been avoiding him."
"Is it about the farm?" Bennett turns around and rests his lower back against the countertop. He holds out a fresh cup of coffee toward me. "I haven't added any cream or sugar yet. Didn't know how you liked it."
"Just a dash of cream is good for me," I say. I move to the fridge and grab the Vanilla creamer I keep stocked. "Sugar is in the second cabinet over there if you want any. Just please close the lid tight or ants will get into it."
I smile at his expression before taking the cup from his hand. He immediately picks up his own. "So, is that what your brother wants to talk about?"
"Probably," I say. "I'm not sure what else there is to talk about at this point."
"Have you found a place you'd like to move to?" I know he's just making conversation, but I'd like to avoid thinking about having to move out of my childhood home. I've never lived anywhere else and I never planned to.
"I've mostly been in the avoidant stage." I turn the eye on on the stove and set my pan down while talking. I'm keeping it fairly simple with just diced peppers and onions and cheese. "I hate the thought of living in an apartment, but there isn't much else available out this way."
"Hey, don't knock the apartment life." I know Bennett is trying to keep the conversation light and I appreciate it, but I can feel my mood souring with each passing second. I'm even whisking the eggs a bit too harshly. "We had a house for a couple of years when I was young, but then my parents moved us into a condo and I've been an apartment person my whole adulthood."
The kitchen fills with a sizzling sound when I pour the eggs into the hot pan. I focus on not burning the food for a couple minutes, adding the other bits when needed to make the fluffiest omelets. Clark is always saying how my eggs are so much better than his mamas and I know it doesn't actually get on her nerves, but she has asked me to show her how I do it before.
"Would you ever live in a house?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder to look at him after I flip the omelet in the pan. Thesmells are making my stomach rumble in anticipation. "If you could live anywhere, where would be the dream?"
"Easy." Bennett's voice gets closer to me and within a few seconds, he's standing next to me, back against the counter again. "Two-story house, at least an acre of yard each front and back, husband, two kids, maybe three. Definitely a dog. I want big, bay windows upstairs because having them downstairs isn't worth the view. I like the idea of a turn around style driveway, but that's getting a bit fancy."
"You haven't thought about this at all, have you?" The joke falls flat as he continues to speak.
"I want the laundry room to be directly off the bathroom because that makes the most sense to me. Just strip and toss them right into the washer." That bit gives me a chuckle. Currently, my laundry room is across the hall from the bathroom. "And I'd like to have at least one guest bedroom and an office."
I stare at him in mild disbelief at the specifics of his dream home. It sounds amazing and shockingly family-oriented for someone that has said he left his family and the business. I want to pry, to ask if he sees himself settling down sooner or later, about adoption, and a hundred other questions that swarm through my mind on a make believe future of us sharing this house.
I hold back, though.
We are nowhere near that type of future. I'm not even sure we'll have a future a couple of weeks from now.
I finish making our breakfast and plate them before we sit down at the table together. This is why we can't keep going down this path. I know myself well enough that if we keep spending nights together and making breakfast, having conversations like this, my imagination and heart will take off, leaving my brain scampering behind.
We don't carry the conversation while we eat. I finish first and move to the sink to wash my dish. By the time we're both done and ready to head back to the city, the mood has definitely shifted. There isn't talk of futures, dream homes, not even of what happened last night. The truck bounces lightly along the dirt road as I drive us toward the main road. I can see Charlie outside, as well as Clark. I slow and roll my window down when I get close to them.
"Hey, Uncle N. Where are you going this early?" Clark jogs toward the truck. I panic just a bit. I was just going to wave and keep going. I glance over at Bennett and see his face is turned away completely and he's even turned part of his body too. I really didn't mean to actually stop. I'm still at a slow crawl, but I shift myself forward a bit to try and hide Bennett, too.
"I'm just heading into the city for a few things," I say. "I have an open house later this morning, so I'll be back around lunch."
I see the surprise in his eyes when he spots the person sitting in the passenger seat. He gives me that expression that says I will be answering questions about this later and runs back off.
Chapter Ten
Isteparoundthedesk and stand next to Winnie, pointing at the spot on her screen where she was taking notes. "That right there is where you want to focus for this paper. Do you see how working an outline for that would benefit this type of company you're developing?"
"Oh, okay. Thanks, Bennett." I give her a quick head nod before walking down the rest of the aisle.
Although it was in the syllabus and they could have started this project at any time, we've officially begun work on their presentations. They won't be due until next week. I've made it clear that, as a beginning class, I'm only looking for a basic outline, nothing too detailed for what they've chosen. Plus, they are using businesses that already exist to make it easier.
I walk down the last row of students, checking progress and aiming to break up the whispering I can see going on in the back corner. This is a group project, but no student smilesthat much when doing work. I pass by Nelson and Tyler. I paired the students up based on personalities, hoping that their similar styles would work out. Tyler is quiet during class, but his quiz scores and answers when I call on him reflect that he understands the material. Nelson is typing, slowly, on his laptop, but I see a bunch of notes scribbled on his notebook so I'm not concerned. The two boys in the back, however, keep sharing glances and snickering. This project is definitely not one that would cause laughter.
They're too busy staring at their screens with smirks to notice me walk around so I come up from behind them and can see their screens. What I see makes me see red instantly. I have an immediate reaction to slap their laptops closed, turn them in to the Dean, and give them a zero for this project, but instead I take a few quick breaths and walk back up to the front.
"Everyone, eyes up here." I've not used this tone with the class before and immediately all of them stop and stare at me. Even the two in the back are staring stone faced. "Most of you might be fresh out of high school and still think you mean something to this world. To a select few, that might be true. However, once you get into the real world, you'll quickly realize that you are the bottom of the totem pole. You're interns and entry level jobs. You're the person that gets blamed for the coffee tasting like shit in the morning. You are the one that is answering to the older generation that is already running these companies." I make an effort to look across the room, although I want to just stare at the boys. "You will not get far in life by belittling others and those that could potentially help you further your career." This time I do look at them. "If I see that anyone is bullying or making comments toward another student, regardless of the reason, you will get an automatic ten percent cut on your final grade. Am I clear?"
