Page 5 of Believe in Caloosa Springs (Caloosa Springs #3)
Christian
“Come on Pops, they are waiting for us,” Tyler called up the stairs as he fidgeted with his truck keys. He was as nervous as a cat, which I found somewhat hilarious considering he’d been the one to hire everyone. It was his family farm that was employing them, after all. I found Tyler’s obvious nerves oddly refreshing. Most employers didn’t give a single fuck about what their underlings thought about them. He wanted them to be comfortable . He wanted them to stay. It was refreshing.
Within a minute or two, I heard the tapping of cowboy boots coming down the staircase. I looked up to see an older gentleman. He was dressed similarly to Tyler, but seemed a little more sophisticated, somehow. His hat was just a little cleaner, the brim was just a little wider. His shirt was tucked in just a little neater. There was no denying the paternal resemblance, but something about the patriarch of the Baker family demanded respect without garnering fear or intimidation. I could tell that we were in the presence of a beloved king.
He stopped and stretched out his hand, a welcoming smile holding up his gray, peppered mustache. “Hello, I’m Robert Baker. Welcome to Caloosa. Thank you for giving us a chance. I hope you’ll be very happy here.”
“Pops, he doesn’t work for us. He’s Mandy’s cousin,” Tyler said.
Robert looked over at Tyler, still mid-handshake. “Oh, I apologize. It’s Tian, right?” he asked, turning back.
I nodded. “Yes, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Well, I still mean everything I said. I’m happy you are here, and I know for a fact Mandy is just delighted. That’s all she’s talked about since she found out you were comin’. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You mean a lot to Mandy, and that means a lot to us. Please call me Pops.”
I thought I was going to melt. I’d never been greeted with such class and respect. Most people, especially those in the older generation, took one look at me with my tattoos and piercings and thought I was some satanist. I’d gotten more nasty glares from old people than I could count. Mr. Baker—Pops—displayed no disdain. His welcome was absolutely genuine.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you. It’s really nice to meet you too,” was all I could manage.
Pops dropped my hand and clapped me on the shoulder. “Let’s roll! Ty, you got my keys?”
I sat in the middle between Pops and Tyler as we rode through the back of the property up to a large red barn surrounded by little cabins. They were so cute. They looked like the ones I used to build in elementary school with the little plastic logs. Lincoln Logs?
I didn’t know what they looked like on the inside, but I immediately decided I wanted one. I should buy some land somewhere and have one built. Maybe a little bigger than these. I didn’t imagine they had a lot of closet or storage space. Maybe I would build two! One to live in and one to have as a closet. They’d have to be connected somehow. A hallway? Ooh… or a secret passage! I could have a couple secret passages to multiple tiny cabins!
Shit… I guess at that point, I would just need a house. Like, a regular house. But still with secret passages, obviously.
I did really love the idea of the tiny house community thing they had going on, with one large structure in the center of it all for meals and recreation. I always thought it would be cool to be part of a community. Kinda off grid and self-reliant, but with the internet because no one has time to live without Google. Then again, to make that kind of thing work, you kinda need to have some friends. Or, at least, a bunch of people you want to live around like that. I didn’t have any friends. And as of that moment, I couldn’t even name five people I would want to do that with. I just wasn’t a people person. People were judgmental, and usually only tolerated others to further their own agendas. From my experience, anyway.
I trailed slightly behind Ty and Pops as we approached the entrance of the building, the doors propped open wide. It was gorgeous. Rustic and cozy, yet with modern luxuries. It looked like the recreation area you would find in a camping resort. At least, that was what I imagined something like that to look like. I’d never been to a camping resort… or camping at all, actually.
Everyone, including the two timid guys I’d parked beside, were inside. One guy was dumping a large skillet full of fluffy scrambled eggs with cheese and peppers into an electric warming plate in the center of a massive wooden table in the center of the room. The good, hearty smell of the food filled the air. It was enough to make your stomach rumble.
Mandy was standing on the side talking to who I assumed was Mrs. Baker. How could she not be? She looked like the epitome of a ranch-house grandma. I could tell just by looking at her that her cooking was amazing, and she probably gave the best hugs on the planet. Plus, she was married to Pops. How could she not be the salt of the Earth?
“I think we are all set, if you are ready,” the woman said, smiling at Pops.
He nodded and Mandy, Mrs. Baker, and the egg guy all came to the table. Following their lead, I chose the seat next to Mandy on the left side. Mrs. Baker took the first seat on the right, Pops standing behind his chair on one end, Tyler taking the end opposite. The blond, timid boy from the blue car approached the table. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing quickly between the empty seat to my right and back to me. I thought he was going to leave and walk to one of the empty chairs on the other side, but he didn’t.
“Is this seat taken?”
I shook my head, “No, it’s open.” I looked back over at Mandy. She shot me a be nice look with one raised eyebrow. Everyone turned her attention to Pops as he started to speak. I didn’t know what the fuck her problem was… I was always nice.
“Good day, everyone, and welcome to the Baker family farm. We’ve been on this land for longer than most of you have been alive. Over the years, we’ve weathered good times and bad times, but things are currently larger and more successful than ever, thanks to my incredible son-in-law, Oliver. That’s why you’re all here. I’m sorry you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet. He’s tied up with some other business, but he’ll be ‘round this afternoon. My name is Robert. Most people here in Caloosa call me Pops, but either is fine. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Pops paused and looked around the room proudly. “Baker Farm has always been a family operation, and to know that we’ve grown so much that we needed to hire good people to lend helping hands fills my heart with happiness. We want to do everything in our power to make you all as comfortable and content as possible. This is new territory for us all. My family and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts for wanting to be a part of this journey with us. Let’s eat!”
The food was amazing—some of the best I’d tasted in a long time. I’d spent the last nine months wining and dining myself across the best restaurants in Las Vegas, spending the money internet pervs had tipped me for taking my clothes off on camera. But I couldn’t remember any of those chefs’ tables or degustation menus comparing to Mrs. Baker’s homemade biscuits smothered in bacon gravy.
I knocked back the remaining drops of coffee in my cup. I started to reach for the carafe in the center of the table and ended up rubbing arms with the guy next to me. He looked over and I could feel myself blush. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. “No problem.” Seeing what I was reaching for, he picked up the coffee pot and handed it to me. When our fingers brushed together, he dropped the handle before I had a good grip on it and the entire thing came crashing down onto the solid wood table-top. The glass pot shattered on impact, sending steaming-hot coffee and shards of glass exploding all over the two of us and a good portion of the table.
“ Fuck !” I exclaimed, jumping up from my chair as scalding coffee rained down on my abdomen and lap. The force from my sudden movement sent the chair I was sitting in tumbling backwards.
Everything went silent as the entire room stared at me. The poor guy next to me had managed to get to his feet and was holding the hem of his soaked shirt away from his skin.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking concerned as he reached his arm out towards me.
“Yeah. Jeez, I’m really sorry.” I felt like I was going to cry. I wanted the floor to open up and just swallow me whole. The first time meeting all these people and, surprise! I couldn’t even manage to pour myself a cup of coffee. I shouldn’t be allowed in public.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, grabbing my wrist and holding my arm up.
I looked down at the heretofore-unseen slice on the underside of my forearm. I must have slid my arm across a piece of glass when I jumped up from the table. I blinked a few times as I watched a small stream of blood welling from the injury. It ran down my arm and begin to drip off my elbow and onto the floor.
He continued to hold my wrist in the air.
“Can I get a towel, or something?” I heard him say. His voice was going in and out, like am ambulance’s siren.
“T? You look green.”
That was Mandy. My stomach felt like I’d just gone over the first drop on a rollercoaster, and I suddenly became very dizzy. I felt an arm hook around my waist as the edges of my vision began to blur.
“Get him to the couch!” someone said…
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