Nowhere USA: Book 1 of the Nowhere Trilogy

19. Are You Lonesome Tonight?

Now the stage is bare and I'm standing there - Elvis Presley

8:34 a.m. Wednesday, September 29, 2021

Harry enters Brainwash with an open mind, ready to listen to his friend's explanation. For the next 40 minutes or so, he has to cool his jets, though, waiting patiently while Lee serves the Wednesday morning customers. Seeing the case filled with baked goods brings disappointment, as he had hoped to meet Aunt Chele when she delivered the treats. She must have dropped them off on her way to pick up Paige.

When the flow of consumers slows to a trickle, Lee ambles over to where Harry is seated. Conscious of the Marine's issues with his prosthetic leg, Harry has chosen a regular table as opposed to a high top. There's one woman sat on the other side of the room, reading a book as she waits for her laundry to be moved to the dryer. She'd surreptitiously glanced at Harry a few times, but when he nodded at her the last time, her face had turned red as she quickly turned back to her book. Ah yes. Her reaction makes so sense to him now.

"What's on your mind, H?" his friend asks, settling into the chair.

"Before we get into that, I brought you the first apple cinnamon streusel bread created by the town's future baker, Mr. Patrick Moore." He carefully and lovingly unwraps the paper to reveal the glorious delicacy. "To share," he hastens to add as he doesn't want Lee to consume it all.

The other man's eyes widen, and his mouth opens and closes. "Michele is giving up the bakery? She just got it!"

"I don't know the details," Harry explains, reaching to rip apart a piece of the bread. "All I know is that Patrick wants to be Nowhere's baker, and his aunt is teaching him the ropes so he can take over completely in May." Sinking his teeth into the tidbit, Harry allows his tongue to taste every flavor as he chews slowly. Apple. Cinnamon. The texture is airy and light with bits of nut in the streusel for crunch.

Skeptically, Lee eyes the loaf. "Is it any good?"

"No," Harry replies, pulling off another morsel.

Lee appears vindicated, triumphant.

"It's amazing," Harry responds, and the proprietor's eyebrows shoot up. Warily, he reaches out for a tiny piece, sniffing it carefully before popping it in his mouth. The look of dread on his face melts into one of ecstasy as he chews.

"Holy hell. That's better than Michele's," he murmurs, ripping off a large chunk. "In fact, I think it might even be tastier than his grandmother's."

A grin splits Harry's face. He's proud of his young baker friend. This is further proof that Patrick is on the right track with his career choice.

"Wow. And he told you before word got around town?" Harry detects slight jealousy in Lee's voice, but there's nothing he can do about that. Judging by the other man's immediate response, Harry can guess why Patrick would have kept that tidbit from his coach.

With a shrug, Harry dismisses the comment. "We've become friends as well as boxing partners. I like him, and he seems to trust me. Which is something I'm struggling with concerning you if I'm honest," Harry dives in.

Surprise ripples across Lee's face, but he doesn't respond.

Clearing his throat, Harry continues, "I recently learned that you, and the rest of the town, know who I am. Beyond just a visitor to town, I mean."

Lee shifts in his chair, his gaze on the table and the bread. Finally, he lifts his head and makes eye contact with Harry. "Yes. That's true. We weren't trying to be mean, you know. The discussion at the town meeting was that perhaps you were seeking anonymity, and that was something we could give you if we all worked together at it. And I'll tell you, it wasn't easy."