Chapter 1

1

Percy

" W hy is this happening now?" I slammed the oven door hard enough to hopefully destroy it. Then, the insurance would be forced to replace it. Sadly, it never broke any more than it already was. I was an unlucky son-of-a-bitch.

"Not staying hot again?" Tammy Sue groaned as she carefully measured flour into a large bowl. "Did you kick it? I swear it was fine fifteen minutes ago."

"It never works for me. Every time I try, I just hurt my toe."

"Here, let me." Tammy dropped the measuring cup onto the large island and walked around it to stand by me. Somehow, flour was in her hair, trailing off her with every step like it was actually smoking.

"We can't go on like this. It breaks – I call – and the insurance says it has to be unfixable. They call Bennie, who gets it working again – then it breaks a week later. I just can't!" I threw a small fit and actually stamped my foot.

"It's a vicious circle, Perce," she giggled as she slammed the toe of her combat boot into the side of the oven. "Try it now if you're done throwing your little gay tantrum."

"That can't be safe." I sighed as I walked over and turned the knob.

"I'm sure it's not – but it seems to work."

"It does not work. It's a menace." I stuck my hand in the open oven door. "Ok, it worked, for now."

She smacked my ass hard. "Don't be such a prissy pants. Just because you went to some fancy-ass school in Paris doesn't get rid of the fact that you're just a small-town boy from California. Remember that."

"It wasn't some… Well, yeah, I guess it was. But I went to The école Parisian Patisserie, Tammy Sue. I graduated and worked my way up to head pastry chef in a…"

"Michelin Star restaurant at one of the greatest hotels in Europe," she mocked me in a near-perfect imitation. "Yes, honey, trust me, I know. You mention it at least once a day."

"Do I?" I smirked.

"You do."

"I'm a fucking Hallmark cliché."

She giggled and picked up the rolling pin. "You didn't have to come home, you know."

"Maybe?" I walked back over and started kneading my pie dough gently.

"I'm glad you did. I missed the shit out of you, and Facetime was not filling the void – but no, you definitely did not have to. You chose to." She punched her dough and started rolling her sugar cookies out.

"I mean… I grew up here." I mumbled.

"Just because your parents retired and were going to sell the place didn't mean you had to drop your fabulous life and buy this money pit just to keep it in the family."

"I couldn't bear not to try to… And my life was not fabulous. I worked twelve-hour shifts and fell into bed every night so exhausted that I could barely sleep."

She giggled. "So, it's exactly the same as it is here?"

"Hardly. I didn't have to worry about paying the fucking bills. All I had to do was create perfect desserts for the rich and pompous."

"Yet, you still miss it." She picked up one of her cutters and started pushing it into the dough.

"I would have missed this place more. I couldn't have stood someone taking that sign down, you know. Don't Go Bakin' My Heart's been a part of this town for years. If someone had, God forbid, turned it into anything else, it would have broken my heart." I pressed my dough into the small pie tins for my tarts.

"Well, Bette and Joe are happy that you came home. I know it meant a lot to them." She cut into the dough again.

"How the hell did they do this for over forty years? I mean, this town is so small that having a bakery like this place is… Come on, it's fucking insane. But they did it. And now…"

"You're struggling. Hell, I guess we're struggling, hon. But we're doing it. Maybe what this place needs is a bit of a change, you know. You kept their menu and added a few foo-foo pastries, but… This place and the stuff your parents baked are them—not you, babe. Make it your own."

"Oh, I am sure that Foggy Basin would love to buy more souffles and Millefeuilles."

"The cannoli and macarons did better than you thought, and what the fuck is a millyfille?" She cackled. I loved the sound of her laugh more than almost anything. "Sounds like a pastry for old ladies."

"Cookies, cupcakes, muffins, and pies are what the people here eat, Tammy Sue. They're the fastest to make, too. If we spent the time making… any of the things, I would love to bake, we… It's about the cost per dessert, and we have to factor in the time for that. Making a couple of trays of macarons is one thing, but we don't have the staff or the time to really change the menu. I also don't think people would be too happy about it."

"We were pretty busy yesterday."

"If every day could be an event in town, we'd be doing great!"

"Saturdays are pretty good too."

"Pretty good doesn't pay for the mortgage and the electricity."

"Or me."

"Or you – or my own rent."

"I think the oven is hot enough again. What are we putting in first? We still have quite a few cookies from yesterday that we need to sell before we make too many more. I have a couple dozen of sugar cookies ready to go."

"Cupcakes. We need them to cool. Remember when I made a batch of Napoleons, and they didn't sell?"

"I didn't say it was going to be easy, babe. But this place is yours." She threw up her hands to stop my diatribe from rushing out of my mouth. "It's yours." She pointed her finger at me and wiggled it into my chest. "I know it has a history that… Hey, I practically grew up here, too, you know. I get it. It's special, but if it's going to be yours – if your future is really here, babe – then you have to make this place totally yours. If you make it, they will come."

"I hate you so much right now. I can't believe you just turned a baseball movie analogy into a baking one."

"If the movie quote fits." She shrugged and grinned maniacally.

"If it hadn't been for you, this place would have gone under right at the start. I had no idea what I was doing."

"Darling, you still have absolutely no clue, and you know it." She giggled. "We're making this shit up as we go along while your parents are traveling the globe."

"Let's hope it's still here when they get back. But I'm glad to be here doing this with my bestie. If it weren't for you, I don't know if I would stay." I sighed.

"To stay in a place means you have to actually put down some roots, you know. Can you pass me the brown sugar?"

I handed it over to her. "I have roots. I grew up here."

"Those are not the kind of… those are old growth roots. I mean new ones."

"You mean dating." I measured a cup of milk and started gently pouring it into the whipped cream cheese. "Who the fuck has any time for that?"

"Teachers, truck drivers, bookstore owners, gas station workers, you know… everyone but the great Perseus." That was not my name, but Tammy Sue liked to call me that ever since we studied Greek mythology in middle school.

"Har-de-fucking-har."

"I'm serious. You don't have to stay here until midnight every night, you know. What are you even doing?" She started breaking eggs into her mixture.

"Bookkeeping, paying bills, ordering supplies."

"Feeling sorry for yourself. I swear, where is your phone?"

"It's over by the… No! You are not going to try to Grind'r me right now. Trust me, I looked. The pickings are very slim. This isn't a city, Tammy Sue – it's Foggy Basin."

"God," she slapped the counter. "you make it sound so depressive."

"Well, it's not actually been a picnic."

"Our choices are our own, babe. If you see dark rainclouds instead of-"

"Fog?"

"The blue sky that comes right after, asshole. How are we even friends?"

"We're not."

"No, we're not. We're more than that."

"Family, babe. We're family." I reached over and placed my hand on top of hers.

"Damn right. And since I would be the older sister in this equation-"

"By two months – that is hardly older."

"I'll take it. Your older sister says you need to go out and suck a damn dick. Maybe it would put you in a better mood." She rolled her eyes and broke another egg.

" You're not as funny as you think."

"Or as wrong as you think."

"I didn't say you were… wrong . I mean… A date would be nice, eventually."

She blew hair out of her face and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. "This town does have a few other gay men in it, you know. Honestly, I've always been amazed by how fucking many of you there are. Maybe that's why I'm still single?" Every good-looking guy is a friend of Dorothy."

"I saw… uh… Tim the other day," I said sheepishly, already knowing what it was she would say. Tim was one of the two boys in high school that I used to fantasize about. Why did I have to have a thing for jocks with big biceps and bad attitudes?

"Slut. Tim is straight, and just because you've been jonesing to wrap your hands around his shaft since high school doesn't mean it's gonna happen. Why do gay guys have things for straight jock boys."

"It's a thing. I don't know. He still looks really hot." I shrugged as I walked over to put my mixture in the freezer. "I mean, all those muscles in that t-shirt were nice to look at."

"He has two kids. Trust me, he is no longer hot. It's an infallible truth. Besides, anyone who would marry that treacherous, lying hellhound of a cheerleader deserves the pain of fiery pits in hell." She had never forgiven Pam for being a real bitch in high school. I didn't blame her. Pam was pure evil. She used to make all the Freshman girls get down on their stomachs in the hallways so the football players could ogle. She had been gross.

"He seemed happy to see me."

"He would be happy to see anyone besides his wife. Pam's a fucking harpy. Those kids have no chance at life if she's raising them. They probably feast on old, dried-up carcasses of roadkill. I bet they even have fangs."

"He seemed ok. But said that he was getting divorced. We didn't talk too long because he had a game. Did you know his parents died, and he now owns the Burger Barn? I need to talk to him about all of this shit we're dealing with."

"Honey, yes. This is a small town. I know everything. Pam was a bitch, and just left him, apparently. As for the Burger Barn, he owns it, but he's never over there. He's busy at his real job at the high school. Did he tell you he's the coach of the baseball team?"

"He played football."

"No one cares. Sports ball is sports ball, isn't it?" She smirked as she pulled her hair back and tightened her ponytail. Her blonde hair had white streaks of flour in it. "Men like him always seem to land on top."

"I am hopeless. I hadn't thought about him in… years. Then there he was, looking just as gorgeous as he always did. He smiled, and I melted. I reverted ten years."

"You reverted ten years for dick you can't even have. What about Brock? Did you know he owns the bookstore now?" She started spooning the batter into the cupcake pan.

"I don't have time to read. Brock and I are not a match." Brock had been nice, but we never really clicked as anything other than friends.

"Do you have to be a match to suck a dick? He's available and can get it up. He's also sweet and very handsome."

She always got right to the point. "You're horrible. Spoon that batter and stop trying to get me laid. I fail at that enough on my own without your help."

"Well, at least you seem to actually be over the real asshole of your past. I haven't heard his name mentioned in about ten days. It's a fucking record."

"Ben is super dead to me. I did wonder if he might come to the ten-year reunion, though. That would be weird, wouldn't it?"

Ben had always been the man that I thought about. When we were six, we became fast friends and spent all of our time together. Then things changed all because of one night in a tent where we did things that must have scared him after he had time to think about it. He had started it, and I was happy my first experience was with him. Then, I couldn't stop thinking about him, even when he… He became a real asshole, and we never really spoke again. But I still thought about him more than was healthy. It's hard to forget your first crush, even after they crushed you.

Tammy Sue sighed heavily. "I haven't seen him since he took off for college, thank God. I still can't believe that you and he ever… I mean, he was a total homophobe. I hope he does show up because I have some things I would like to say to him now." She walked the pan over and slid it into the oven. "Still hot."

"I think he just hated himself, to be honest." I began cleaning my fruit. "Time and baking have been my best friend, I guess. I'm over all of that. Besides, he never called me a… you know. He was just a bully and an asshole to everyone and could totally get away with it because he was the star quarterback and too fucking good-looking for his own good."

"God, he was pretty. But he was a total dick. I can't believe we were ever friends with him. You used to follow him around like a puppy – which totally makes sense now that I know everything."

"I wouldn't put up with that shit now." I sliced through a strawberry. "Ben just… He got under my skin, I guess, and I always hoped that he'd change back to the way he used to be when we… When I gave him that blowjob in the tent. But he didn't, and now he can suck my dick. Make sure you don't over-stir that dough when you begin the small pumpkin bread."

"Have it your way lover of straight boys. Oh, by the way…" She looked over at the counter. "We got another one of those… uh… flyers."

"I'll throw it away later. We are not for sale. I didn't move back here to just throw it away."

"Susie's Dress Emporium has agreed, apparently. She signed the intent to sell contract. That's the gossip anyway."

"Did Evelyn or Reuben tell you? Either way, it doesn't matter. If they want to build a giant mega-hotel here, they will have to build it around my shop. This place is not for sale."

"From what I heard, they added another zero to get Susie to sign. She was dead set against it at first, and now... Money talks, I guess."

"You know, running a small family-owned business is hard enough without a conglomerate trying to buy it from you." I started dicing up my banana.

"Even if the price is right, Perce?"

I stopped and looked up at her, and nodded. "Even then. I gave up everything I had to come back here. I'm not throwing it away that easily. I plan on keeping Foggy Basin as weird as I can. Fuck those greedy corporate monsters."

"There's my best friend! We're gonna need that fire to make this place a success. Let's just hope the oven keeps working!"