Page 4 of True Calling

CHAPTER 1

Berk stepped out of the Uber and looked at the large home in front of him.Wow, so this is what a mansion looks like up close and personal, Berk thought to himself. He had been a bit worried that he was being impetuous, but then again, it wasn’t every day that someone considered hiring a chef fresh out of culinary school. Then again, a place being so isolated most likely had a hard time finding help, let alone keeping it. A man could get lonely... well, mostly me. Good thing Berk wasn’t most men.

Berk’s parents had been late-in-life parents. In truth, Berk was an oopsie... or as his mom always called him an unexpected surprise. He had loved his mom and dad very much. They had all been really close. Maybe because there was no other family on either side of his parents, so it really was just them, or maybe it was because they were just great parents that were easy to love. Berk didn’t know and honestly, he didn’t care. When they had been killed in a freak car accident when going to buy their soon-to-be eight-year-old boy a birthday present, Berk found that he needed to draw on those memories as he was shuffled from one foster home to another.

Foster’s life hadn’t been great, but he at least was one of the lucky ones. He hadn’t been beaten, starved or abused in any way. However, he hadn’t known true affection and caring either. There was no such thing as making friends in the system, because you never knew when you would be shuffled out of one place into another.

Shaking his head, Berk knew he wasn’t being fair. Berk had been one of the lucky ones. That shuffling life had only lasted three years. All of that shit stopped when he met one set of his last foster parents. They had been his saving grace. Two people Berk would always believe his own parents had brought to him from the heavens. Norton and Marla Carlson. What a great couple. Berk had always prayed for a family and they had become the closest to family he could get.

Norton owned his own restaurant and Marla had worked the front, greeting and talking to all the customers and doing the books. Yeah, they had been wonderful, and they had given him a purpose... something he could say was his true calling in life.

When Berk had first gone to them, he was eleven years old. He had already been in seven different homes by then. It seemed his unwillingness to talk seemed to unsettle foster people. The thing was, Berk wasn’t trying to be difficult, he just didn’t have much to say. In truth Berk was kind of afraid to open his mouth, for fear he would start crying and never be able to stop.

Here Berk was, twenty years old, and he still had never really allowed himself to mourn the loss of his parents. He had cried once... at their funeral as they were being lowered, but he had learned the first day of being a foster kid to never, ever, let people see him cry. Johnny had said the first sign of tears and Berk would find his ass kicked by other kids in no time. He had to be tough, or he needed to blend into the walls. It was the only way to get through the system intact. Since Berk was a mere three feet eleven inches tall and weighed about seventy pounds soaking wet at the time. Not that today’s five feet six inches and one twenty-five was any better... but it meant then what it still meant now... his fighting sucked big fat hairy monkey balls. So, Berk had gone for the blend into the wall part.

It had worked with the kids, but kind of freaked out the adults so he was shuffled from place to place until he met Nort and Marla. They had taken him in, and Marla discovered something not many foster parents did... Berk was smart... like, really smart. Being an ex-schoolteacher, Marla had decided that the public system wasn’t a good fit for Berk. She said it was too slow for the potential he had and decided to home school him. However, because she worked in the restaurant with Nort she did his schooling there and when they were on break or done for the day, Berk would have to stay and wait for them to finish before going home, sometimes helping bus tables, even though Marla said it wasn’t necessary. The thing was, Berk didn’t mind, and it didn’t seem right to watch her scurry around doing so many things when he could help.

One day, when on a break from his lessons, Berk had gone into the kitchen to get something to drink and Nort was putting together the dough for the fresh bread they served at every table. He was working and dancing and singing to some old R&B song looking so at peace Berk was almost envious.

Nort had taken a big fluffy ball of dough and plopped it on a wooden surface that was covered in flour. He grasped the side of the dough and folded it into half towards himself and then used the palms of his hands to push it down multiple times, before turning it about a quarter way and repeating the process, every once in a while adding a pinch of flour onto the board. It was mesmerizing. Then Nort made it into a ball and placed it into a greased bowl only to grab another fluffy ball and start all over again.

When Nort had noticed Bret’s interest, he had asked if he wanted to try it. Without hesitation, Berk was there working with Nort and learning how to make bread. Berk had discovered his love for cooking on that very day.

It was so much fun, and it didn’t take long after that for Berk to get into the routine of rushing through his lessons with Marla as quickly as possible, and then make his way into the kitchen to help Nort out. Nort taught him not only how to make bread, but fresh pasta as well as the correct way to cook meats, how to make pestos, aioli sauces, and so much more.

Berk had become Nort’s sous chef and then for his thirteenth birthday, Nort had given Berk his own iPod and showed him how to work it. It wasn’t long before Nort had Berk at his own station, helping him cook as Berk danced around and truly enjoying his life for the first time in what seemed like forever.

It was because of Nort and Marla that Berk discovered his love of cooking and nineteen eighties music. Toss in some R&B, blues and even some Country and Western, and Berk was in a whole other world or awesomeness.

It was when he turned fifteen that Berk had noticed he liked boys over girls. He was scared to say anything, but he needed to tell someone. He didn’t want to be one of those people that hid who they were only to be miserable because of it. He already had been holding in his feelings about his parents’ death. Add this into the mix and Berk just didn’t think he could do it. The weight of it was too strong on his shoulders.

It was terrifying. Berk had heard about kids being kicked out of homes by their own parents for being gay, and here he was about to tell his foster parents. With a shaky voice and trembling body, Bret admitted his feelings for guys. His foster parents had surprised him by hugging him and telling him it was okay. People couldn’t choose who to love and if he preferred men, that was fine by them, but they expected to meet anyone he chose to be with. They wanted to make sure that the man in Berk’s life deserved such a good boy like him.

It was then that Berk realized how truly blessed he was. So many in the foster system were given raw deals, and here Berk was given the gift of Nort and Marla.

Berk had succeeded so well with his new life that he found himself not only graduated by sixteen, but Nort and Marla had given him full tuition to culinary school, which he had been so successful in he had graduated from that and was given a scholarship into pastry school. It was unbelievable to accept his degree in both with Nort and Marla clapping, cheering and screaming his name.

Berk had thought he would be working in the restaurant with Nort and Marla, but it was on graduation day they told him of their plans to retire and move to Florida. Berk had been disappointed, but he understood their need to enjoy life while they could.

Berk knew that since he had graduated top in his classes he could have any job he wanted, but Berk had always wanted to be part of a family and when he got a surprise letter in the mail, offering him a job as a live-in chef for a large family, there was no way he could turn them down. He had called the number provided and spoke to a guy named Zotol. He was the man hired to assist in finding the chef and Berk had told him he wanted the position, but wouldn’t be able to start right away. He requested that he be allowed to start after he got Nort and Marla set up in Florida first.

Between selling the restaurant and then packing the house and getting it ready for sale, then driving the moving truck to Florida to help set them up in their new beach-side home, it had taken Berk a full month to make that happen. Now here he stood, looking at a mansion, too scared to move.

“Hey buddy, are you getting out or what?” The Uber driver asked as he popped the trunk and took out his bag.

Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Berk shook off his fear and nodded, saying, “Yes. Thanks for everything.”

The driver handed him his bag, looked at the place Berk was to call home, “This is a nice place. Don’t know much about the fellas living here, but then again no one does. They don’t come to town much. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

Nodding, Berk replied, “I’m the new chef. I’ll be fine.”

The man handed him a card, “Well if you need out of here, you call me, and I can be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks.” Berk replied, taking the card and reading it.Mark Lancaster, Uber driver. Call me if you need me.“Thanks Mark. I appreciate it.”

Mark gave him a quick nod and got back in his car and took the horseshoe drive back down the mountain.

“Well, Berk. Your next chapter in your life is about to begin. Ready or not here we go.” Berk said as he picked up his bag and made his way to the front entrance.