The Donut Man

The Donut Man

By Rachel Anne Wallace

I placed the tray of freshly baked pastries into the store-front window with a smile as a man stood outside looking in. He was new in town, he had to be or he would have waved to me. I knew practically everyone, particularly if they were near my own age, by sight. I waited until our eyes met for a fraction of a second hoping to get a better look at his face from beneath the bill of his baseball-style hat. The best I had gotten for my effort was the fact his eye color was blue, his face tanned as he quickly turned away and left, not even coming into the store.

I watched as he walked to a parked green pickup truck and got in—he wasn't much taller than my own 5'4''. I guessed by perhaps five inches, with brown hair and medium build. His clothing suggested a job working outdoors—blue jeans and a green short-sleeved type work shirt, and brown work boots, Forest Service perhaps, though I hadn't noticed a patch on his shirt or hat. He pulled out onto the street and headed north out of town, not looking at the bakery as he passed—I wasn't able to satisfy my curiosity further.

This was my Aunt Sarah's business and I was working for her during the summer months while I took a break from classes studying to become a Radiological Technician at Ashton Community College in Ashton, twenty miles away. I loved working in the bakery, even though it meant getting up at the ungodly hour of three in the morning to begin work at three-thirty. As bad as that sounds, it meant I was done by one in the afternoon and could enjoy the day. The odor of freshly baked bread and pastries wasn't hard to get used to and the customers were always friendly, anxious to have something with their morning coffee—another aroma that made the job appealing.

I was just turning from the window when my aunt's other morning employee, Betsey, a middle-aged woman with an always cheery disposition came up behind me.

"Robyn, do you know who that young man is? I've never seen him before."

I turned with a smile. "No, I don't. I was wondering the same thing myself actually."

"Handsome enough isn't he?"

"I guess so. I really didn't get much of a look at him except as he walked away."

"You know, I think the only reason he stopped to look in the window was to get a better look at you."

I blushed a little. I got a lot of attention from our male customers and it had obviously not escaped attention. Now, Betsey was suggesting I was drawing them in just by going to the window—it could very well have been Betsey he was looking at. Middle-aged or not, Betsey was well-liked by the men-folk who came in as she was very attractive. The men loved to flirt with her and she with them, even though her wedding ring told them she was already taken—not that it wasn't already known in this small community as her husband served on the township board.

Since the bakery opened at six every morning other than Sunday when it opened at eight, it was the first place many of the men who worked at the National Forest Ranger station or for the logging companies stopped before starting work or soon after. Mornings were always busy and the number of customers dropped off through the day, with a minor peak at noon.

The tip jar on the counter was usually about one-quarter full. I learned after a few days that when it got half full, enough was taken out to keep it at the quarter full level to encourage additional donations. I also learned, by way of a bit of advice from Betsey, that leaving a few buttons of my waitress dress open to reveal a little cleavage, resulted in more interest in the tip jar. I soon found this to be true, though I found it a bit distasteful—though having another ten dollars in my pocket at the end of the day when the money was split between us was enough for me to begrudgingly accept the practice.

Betsey and I handled the front counter while Aunt Sarah baked and decorated special order cakes for birthday parties, weddings, and such. She came out once in a while to the front, usually wearing a light dusting of flour on her blouse and apron, to bring out a few rolls or check to see if we needed to make another batch of donuts that had sold out.

Living and working in a small community in a family-owned business was a mixed blessing of course. Everyone knew more about your life than you realized sometimes—I found I was no exception to that rule.

"So, how are things going with you and Tim?" my aunt asked.

"Pretty well. He has a new truck to pull his logging trailer and he's busy. We see each other almost every night now that I don't have to study for classes each night."

"Is he still grumbling about your going to school?"

I wasn't surprised at the question, Tim hadn't made it much of a secret that he would have preferred for me to stay in town working and be available every night. We had talked about continuing my education several times and had come to the point where we agreed to disagree. I had pointed out to him last time that if we married we would be in a position to have a job with a year around income when his seasonal work logging ended. That way, the unstable part-time work that resulted in sporadic income over the winter months was acceptable until the following spring when he would be back to work full time.

This argument hadn't been as well-received as I hoped it would be—Tim was somewhat old fashioned in that respect—women should be in the home. But, I was of the mind that having a steady source of income was important for a stable household that someday would include children to care for. We hadn't talked about it for several weeks so that source of friction had faded, at least for now.

"Yes. We talked about it again and I told him I'm not giving it up after getting this far."

My Aunt looked at me with a frown. "Did he really need a new truck? The one he had wasn't all that old, was it? In fact, it wasn't even paid for yet as I remember correctly."

I felt a pang of despair. We had argued about that too. There was nothing wrong with his old truck, it was in good mechanical shape and was reliable. He argued it would look better as if he were more successful if he had a new truck. I remained unconvinced—his employers just wanted the logs delivered on time at the right place—they didn't care what his truck looked like. It was more of an ego thing for Tim and I knew it—bragging rights for him with his buddy drivers. In fact, he had purchased the truck and not told me about it for over a week before someone asked me how I liked it.

"No, it wasn't that old. But they gave him a good price on the new one with a reasonable trade-in offer for his old one."

"Men and their big boy toys," Aunt Sarah replied with a sigh of understanding.

I was thankful the conversation had ended as she headed into the back room of the bakery. I really didn't want to air our dirty laundry—though I knew she wasn't trying to pry. At least, no more than what my parents already had. At times, it seemed as if my life was an open book—most everyone expected Tim would be asking me to marry him fairly soon. I knew it was coming too, but lately, my enthusiasm had started to wane and I was beginning to think I was going to disappoint someone, maybe myself—I just didn't know for sure when.

I went home after work, flopping down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I should go for a walk. I heard my mother coming down the hall. She had been outside working in her garden and I had decided not to interrupt her.

"Hey, I didn't know you were home yet. You could have come out to tell me. I might have put you to work pulling a few weeds," she joked.

"Mom, I don't know what's wrong with me. Pulling weeds would have been the highlight of my day."

"Okay, I know sarcasm when I hear it," she laughed.

"Aunt Sarah gave me a bag of white dinner rolls to bring home. She said you would make good use of day-old rolls."

My mother laughed, "She did huh. It's better than sending me donuts every day. It's like she wants me to blow up like a balloon."

I laughed. If anything my mother could use a few pounds. She had always been slim and trim and I was pleased I took after her in that respect. I had a larger bust, taking after my Aunt Sarah, but no one could mistake the fact I was my mother's daughter when we were together.

"Mom, if anyone should be worried about that, it's me. I'm around donuts, cakes, pies, and bread every day. I'm surprised I don't gain weight just by looking at all that stuff."

"I think you're doing fine. Your aunt told me just a few days ago she hasn't even seen you try anything on your own. Unless she asks you to taste something, you don't eat anything other than what you take for lunch."

"What! Does she tell you everything?" I asked with exasperation.

"Of course not dear, Betsey shares things with me too."

I rolled my eyes. My life was there to be shared.

"I have to go back outside to put a few things away. Are you eating here with your father and me tonight or going over to Tim's?"

"I'll be here. Tim is going out drinking with his buddies tonight. He asked if I wanted to go but told him I would have to be back early for bed and he said that was fine. It's fine with me—his friends can get a bit crude and lewd after a few drinks."

I watched as my mother left and heard the back door close as she walked outside. I lay back down and closed my eyes. I really was happy not to have to listen to Tim and his friends tonight. I knew several of them as they had been in school a few years ahead of me before I graduated high school and saw them frequently in town. After a year in college, I was beginning to feel I didn't have as much in common with them as I had before. My horizons seemed to have grown larger while theirs had not. The things they talked about just didn't seem to interest me and it seemed to apply to their girlfriends too, all of them I knew well.

The next morning I was busy wiping down the tables and chairs in the dining area of the bakery while there was a break from waiting on customers behind the counter. I had just finished when Phil, Chief Forester, of the National Forest regional office walked in to get two dozen donuts—something he did at least three days a week. He was talking with Betsey when I walked behind the counter. They were talking about the weather, making small talk. Betsey looked at me with a smile.

"Robyn, would you please make up a selection of two dozen donuts for Phil. Two of each would do nicely."

I went about selecting the donuts, placing them into a box with tissue paper. Betsey was asking about a new management plan the Forest Service was putting out for public comment in the coming week. I hadn't heard about it yet and wondered if it would affect the amount of logging that was going to take place in the immediate area. Hard to tell, as the National Forest was spread across three counties with about 973,000 acres, with over 26,000 acres in our local unit alone.

I glanced up as I heard the bell attached to the door ring, indicating someone was coming in. I saw a man step in, look around, and hesitate in the doorway. After a second, I knew it was someone I didn't recognize—then knew it was the guy that had looked in the window last week. Phil glanced over at him.

"Be right out Wade."

Before I got another good look, the door closed and he was gone. I stood there looking at the space he had occupied. I was jarred back to the present, hearing my name spoken, as someone touched my arm.

"Robyn, you can give Phil the box of donuts now. He has already paid for them."

I looked at my hands. Yes, I was holding the box. I handed the box to Phil and saw he was smiling at me, apparently amused.

"Thank you Robyn, Betsey, see you later."

I watched as Phil walked out the door and then turned to close the door of the counter holding the donuts. I stood up and saw Betsey standing there with a broad smile on her face.

"Well, I think you got a better look at him that time. So, his name is Wade."

I felt my face flush a little. "What do you mean?"

"Robyn, you know it's okay to window shop when you see a man that good looking. But you were almost drooling."

"Oh my god! Betsey. I didn't... I mean... he didn't notice did he?"

"I don't think so, he was looking at Phil. But Phil noticed."

I turned and walked into the backroom, glad no one else had been present who would have witnessed my behavior. I was so embarrassed. Why had I just stood there and stared at him? I didn't even want to admit it to myself—but I knew I had.

Aunt Sarah walked over to me. "Robyn, are you alright. Your color looks a little off. You're feeling well aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little embarrassed is all. I need to go back out and help Betsey."

I walked back out front, though I really didn't want to. I wasn't sure if Betsey would say anything or not. I busied myself with cleaning the tables and checking the coffee urns, not making eye contact with her. I couldn't imagine what she thought of my behavior, though it seemed she may simply have been amused at my reaction. That much she had right.

"Robyn, I need to go into the back for a minute. Can you handle the front?"

"Yes, of course," relieved I had time to further collect myself.

I hoped Wade hadn't noticed, the mere thought sent a shiver through me. What would he think of me if he had? I had never just stood and stared at a man that way in my entire life, not even Tim. I heard the doorbell chime as Mr. Parsons, the barber stepped in with a cheery hello.

"Robyn, are there any cream-filled chocolate-covered Long Johns left?"

I had just finished ringing Mr. Parsons's order up when Betsey walked back out. She and Mrs. Parsons were close friends and when she saw the bag in his hand she smiled and wagged her finger at him.

"John, you better not let Sally see you with those or you'll be in big trouble."

"I'm always in big trouble. So, I don't need any help from you thank you," he replied with a loud laugh as the door chimed again as he walked out. I looked at Betsey.

"You aren't going to tell on him are you?" I asked a little amused.

"No, of course not. But if Dr. Bennett finds out he may be in trouble. I just try to remind him that once a week is okay, but all the saturated fat in one of those Long Johns is more than he should have in a single day and he knows it. He'll have clogged arteries if he goes overboard no matter what medications he's on."

I smiled. Yep. Living in a small town means there aren't a lot of secrets. Something I had better remember the next time Wade came into the bakery. The image of his face came into my mind—damn he was handsome! I pushed the thought away and busied myself behind the counter. I had a boyfriend to deal with already and didn't need any rumors flying around I was gawking at another man.

That afternoon I went home to change out of my waitress dress, then decided to go for a walk on one of my favorite trails in the National Forest. If anything, a walk served to calm me, giving me time to think where I could be surrounded by a thick, green cathedral of trees that made me feel small and insignificant, a place of awe. There were seldom people on the trail at this time of day on a weekday. The almost constant singing of birds high in the canopy told me I wasn't really alone—it was almost as if they sang only for me knowing I was entirely earthbound.

There was a small stream along the trail in one section and I sat down on a log and watched metallic green bodied damselflies with black wings as they danced over the surface of the water. They were delicate, beautiful creatures that glittered in the subdued light under the high green mantle of whispering leaves. It was a spectacle on a small scale that so many people failed to notice in their hurry to get from one point on the trail to another. My time here was not to be rushed, I came here not to be hurried in this special place for introspection.

I was troubled. My relationship with Tim seemed to be changing. I didn't feel we were becoming closer, more caring, or loving—to me it seemed we were moving away from each other. I couldn't help but feel my exposure to different ideas and people with different backgrounds and aspirations had something to do with my changed feelings. I was changing, Tim wasn't. It wasn't that Tim was a bad person, he wasn't, but he seemed incapable of changing from what he was, to something more, well, mature. I hoped perhaps I was wrong as the expectations of most of our friends and many in our families were that we would become engaged and marry.

I sat thinking for almost an hour before getting up and walking back to the car having met no one on the trail, just as I had expected. I drove home and went into the house where I found my mother sitting in the living room on the sofa reading a book. That was something we shared, our love of books, it had always tied us together—I kind of blamed my desire to attend college on my mother. My Dad, was somewhat like Tim, enjoying the more practical, hands-on side of things—though Dad enjoyed building aircraft and ship models as a way of learning history. Tim didn't quite match up in that respect, his only interests seemed to be his trucks, snowmobile, and drinking with his friends.

"Are you going to spend time with Tim tonight?" she asked as she looked up from her book.

"Yes. He's going to pick me up after he gets off work. I'll be back to get to bed on time as I don't want to go to work feeling like I'm half awake."

"I'm sure your Aunt Sarah appreciates your responsible attitude. She told me she's very happy to have you working with her, and Betsey thinks highly of you too."

That certainly made me feel good. I decided to go to my room and take a short nap to be well-rested for what I knew Tim was going to want to this evening. It wasn't that I didn't want some attention, I did for sure—but I was starting to tire of the constant pressure to go further in our level of intimacy than I wanted to. I was still leery of engaging in intercourse for the first time and couldn't really put my finger on the reason why. Each time Tim had asked, I told him I wasn't ready yet and couldn't give him a specific reason why.

I wasn't religious so I couldn't point to that as a reason. Maybe I was being a little obstinate as Tim kept pointing to the fact all of his friends and their girlfriends were already doing it. I told him that wasn't a good enough reason for us to engage in sex if I wasn't ready. He hadn't been happy with my response and kept cajoling me each time we spent the evening together.

I had taken the precaution of buying a three-pack of condoms just in case I changed my mind—making sure to buy them after class one day in a pharmacy far from home where no one knew me. If I had purchased them in town where they knew me there would be no doubt who I would be sharing them with and I wasn't ready for that part of my life to become common knowledge. Okay, I knew I was sensitive about it, but I didn't want it out that way. I was certain it wouldn't remain secret for long as Tim would surely blab about it to his friends when I gave in.

I ate dinner with my parents and waited for Tim to show up. I watched as he pulled in, walked to the door, knocked twice, and stepped in. I gave him a quick kiss and smile. We sat down and talked with my parents for a few minutes and just as we were getting up to leave my father looked to Tim.

"You heard the new Forest Management plan is coming out for public comment didn't you?"

Tim stopped with a frown. "Yeah, I heard from some of the other loggers and truckers. They think it's going to reduce the size and number of timber sales and ruin our economy. Word has it they brought in a new guy that was involved in writing the impacts analysis to take a last look around so they would be ready for the public hearings. You know, someone who doesn't know shit about how things work and who it will impact."