Beads of rain beat against the Robinson Family Bakery window. Diane watched as the street drains struggled to gulp it all down. She looked around the empty shop and noticed the clock on the wall. “Good enough, ” she said. Throwing her shoulder length red hair into a ponytail, she walked behind the counter and fished for her jacket and umbrella. Once everything she needed was in her possession, she paused to listen for any movement coming from the back: nothing. Diane tiptoed and reached the front door, keys in hand to lock the door from the outside. As she began to flip the Open/Closed sign, a wet black man with no jacket barged through the door, ringing the bell above it. Diane jolted back and reestablished her footing. The man kept his gaze down as he wiped his boots on the welcome mat, his light blue button-up shirt clinging to his potbelly and shoulders. Diane, remembering her mission, snapped out of it. “I’m sorry; we were just about to close up.”
“Thomas?” Diane’s older brother Ian emerged from the kitchen, his hair just as long and red as her but curlier.
The wet man wiped the rain out of his eyes. “Oh shit, Ian. What’s up, man?” Thomas walked up to give Ian a hug but realized it was better to offer a handshake. It was awkward but the two found their rhythm by the time they released each other. “This your place?”
“The family’s, yeah. Let me get you a towel or something.” Ian stepped behind the counter and threw Thomas an apron from under the counter that matched his. Diane remained by the door, reevaluating her plan. “You were tryna get outta clean-up, weren’t you?”
“Huh?” Thomas replied as he shined his scalp with the apron.
“Not you; my sister.”
Diane diverted her eyes to the ceiling fan. “I mean, I’ve been bored so I already wiped down all the tables and the coffee machine. I was just gonna let you… put everything else away?” she grinned with worried eyes.
Ian rolled his. “Fine, get outta here; go see whatever guy it is this week.”
“Rude! I’m just going to study… with Randy from Sociology,” she smiled, threw her hood over her head, and rushed out the door before there were any follow-up questions.
Ian shook his head. “Ten years about but still my favorite.”
“How many sisters you got?”Thomas asked, handing the soaking apron back to Ian.
“Too many to count. But it makes it easier to run this place.” Ian weighed the apron in his hands, his biceps bulging beneath his t-shirt. “Hefty.” He delivered it to the kitchen, leaving the door open. Hollering back at Thomas, “How’s Cole by the way?”
Thomas walked around the small bakery taking stock of the limited inventory and tried not to get overwhelmed by the smell. “Ahn, he’s four. It’s good and well-fed. Probably spoiled too, but just tryna give him what I didn’t when I’m around, you know. Yours?”
“Daria?”Aw she’s the sweetest. She did a tumble the other day and said ‘Ta Da!’ I swear she’s gonna be something great, mostly thanks to her mom. Lucky to have so many amazing ladies in my life,” he laughed in a way that trailed off.
“Hey… Ian?”
“Yeah, Thomas?”
The bald man stood in front of a display case. “You mind if I grab one of these eclairs, dawg?”
There was a silence. Ian poked his hair through the kitchen door, looking around to make sure no one else was around. “Lock the door and come back here. I’ll give you a fresher one.”
Thomas, still dripping on the floor, followed his old trail of water back to the door and locked it. “Should I…?” The baker nodded, and Thomas flipped the sign Closed.
“What are you doing ‘round here anyway, man?” Ian asked
as he retreated back into the kitchen to prepare his friend’s treat.
“I had a job up the block,” Thomas explained. “Lil old lady had a leaky faucet and a clogged drain. Honestly she coulda just used Drain-O and a wet rag, but I’m not afraid to take money from a lil old white lady.”
“Oh, Mrs. Hanson. Yeah, she’s mean anyway.”
“I figu -- oh!” The plumber finally arrived in the kitchen to find his eclair on a plate with extra powdered sugar.
Ian placed a small saucer on the display. “Oh, and a lil dipping sauce I just whipped up.”
“Look at you, treatin’ a nigga all fancy and shit.” Thomas pretended to adopt a bib as he smacked his lips. As he ate the pastry, satisfaction washed over his face. On his second bite, he closed his eyes to increase his taste buds.
Inching closer, Ian reached out to poke his friend’s belly but underestimated his wingspan. Thomas didn’t seem to mind the palm as floured fingers slid between his buttons to touch bare skin. He let out a small moan as he took another bite. Ian started to remove his hand but soon noticed the plumber unbuttoning his shirt. He was tempted to bury his face in the doughy mass before him but withdrew his hand instead to untie and remove his apron.
Thomas decided he was finished with his appetizer. Throwing the quarter of eclair back on the table, he pressed his body against Ian’s, feeling the bit of dadbod he was starting to gain. He grabbed his small love handles and pulled him into his glazed lips, bear hugging him as he slid his tongue into the baker’s mouth. Ian grabbed the back of Thomas’ head, grazing the stubble growing back. His other hand began unbuckling his pants, his freckled wrist occasionally grazing his partner’s growing bulge.
The back door flew open with a gust of wind and rain. It startled both men to see Diane standing in the doorway. Ian quickly turned around and buckled his pants. “I forgot my backpack,” she pointed next to her brother’s feet. Thomas grabbed it and handed it to her as he fled the scene. Ian kept his back to his sister. She tiptoed up to him until she was close enough to whisper into his shoulder. “I love you, so I won’t snitch. ...but I’m not gonna lie, either. Do better.” She started to walk away, but returned to whisper one last thing. “Oh, and I’m taking tomorrow off.” She sped out the door and slammed it.
Ian accepted his sister’s offer in silence, staring at
the table, longing for more. He slid his left hand into his pants and with the
other reached for the last bite of the eclair. He didn’t hear the door creak
behind him.
Word
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