Despite working at the bakery that his mother owned, she hadn’t come to work for the past few days, citing she needed time off for personal reasons. She had her bakers on the clock and they had replenished the edible stock, all the while Franz took money at the till. He didn’t know for a fact, but he had the feeling that his mother was avoiding him. Especially since he confronted her about what Shelby Barnett was there for last Tuesday Afternoon.

His mother was good at deflection, so Franz wasn’t left with a clear answer but he could connect the dots nonetheless. Alanna had told him that the woman was with a company that was into business mergers and acquisitions—the bakery was a business—so what else could she have wanted?

Franz finally had a chance to discuss in more detail the situation come Sunday night when he joined his mother for dinner. He didn’t live at home anymore, and neither did his sister but since home wasn’t that far away they made it back once a week to eat together as a family.

It had always been just the three of them, as well as the family cats. Franz didn’t know who his father was, and his mother refused to talk about him. Franz had stopped wondering years ago and just accepted their family as it was.

Usually, on Sunday evenings Franz would return to his childhood home and be greeted with the smell of something delicious cooking. His mother was an excellent cook and an excellent baker who learned the trade and skill from his immigrant grandmother who had started the bakery business years before he was even born.

The bakery offered a sort of history to his family, something to be proud of and that was why he was suddenly so concerned about a company like the Cosgrove Collective talking to his mother.

“Mom?” He called as he entered the house. It was the same as it ever was, decorated in green, with outdated striped wallpaper that he was told his grandfather liked. He looked into the kitchen where his mother spent most of her time, but it was empty.


“In here,” he heard her answer and he peeked around the corner into the dining room to see her in one of the dining chairs—a bundle of envelopes and an adding calculator on the tabletop. Lemoncake, their old, yellow cat was snoozing on the table as well.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something…” Franz put his weight into leaning on his arm in the open door frame between the dining room and kitchen. Lemoncake’s ears twitched but he didn’t wake up from his catnap.

“I need to talk to you too,” his mother turned around to face him.

Yvette Schoulsburg had never looked so tired. Her skin had the fine wrinkles that came with aging, with running a business and raising twins on her own, and the dark bags under her eyes were significantly pronounced.


“Mom, are you okay?” Franz asked, slightly taken aback by how exhausted she looked. He noticed the pile of envelopes on the table were stacks of bills. That was odd, she had always been able to afford the business property taxes, and the building was all but paid off since his grandmother’s passing, so why did his mother have piles of bills?

She gave him a hard look but it soon softened, “I’m selling the bakery.”

It was like someone had socked him in the gut. He didn’t understand why it was happening, why now? The question was plain on his face—usually, it was covered with indifference but his mother could tell that when it broke into such an expression, he truly cared.

“I can’t continue to work like this,” she sighed and turned to gather up the bills, shifting Lemoncake slightly to grab a stray envelope. Lemoncake yowled in protest.

“Do I need to take on more hours? Does Fauna? What can we do to help?” Franz questioned, “I can take over running it if you need to retire.”

“You still have two years left of school, don’t be silly.”

“I’ll quit. Just…don’t sell it. Please,” he was nearly begging. He could tell his mother pitied him by the look she gave him, her usual cold crystalline eyes suddenly started shimmering with tears. He’d never seen her cry in his life.

“I’m sick, Franz,” she finally said—quiet with a weary tone, “Selling the business will help pay for medical expenses. I’m sorry but it’s the only way to keep up the treatments.”


Sick

Her tone indicated it was more than just a common cold.

“Sick?” He repeated, but his word required an explanation. She must have known it for a while for her to be having so many medical bills. Had she hidden it from them? “For how long?”

“It’s been a year. At first, I thought I could push through with sheer will but it’s getting worse so I started treatment last spring.”

“Will you get better?”

She didn’t confirm that statement, but in a move uncharacteristic of her, she pulled her son into an embrace and held him there. He didn’t know how to feel. He wanted to have hope that she was going to get better but her silence wasn’t indicative of hope. She had always been a realist, and somewhat of a cynic which had projected onto him and shaped his views on the world too.

His breathing hitched as he involuntarily squeezed her, imagining a future without her and how unpleasant that would be.

This was a time he could have used Alanna’s upbeat and eternally optimistic attitude. What would she say in a situation like this? She was studying biology, maybe she knew of something—a statistic or new experimental medicine that could raise their hopes for his mother’s recovery. He didn’t even know what his mother was sick with but knew asking her would cause her to close off and change the subject. She would tell him in her own time.


After a moment, his mother pulled away and cleared her eyes, “Can you make dinner tonight? I don’t have the energy. I’ll clean up this mess though.”

She gathered the various papers into a neat pile and threw away empty envelopes, “Don’t tell your sister any of this, not yet. I need to break it to her rather gently. You know how emotional she can get.”

He nodded, and speaking of the nuisance, they heard the front door open and an obnoxious proclamation of, “I’m home!”

Franz turned around to acknowledge his noisy twin. She had stopped in the kitchen with her hands on her hips after giving him a look, “I can’t believe we’re wearing the same color shirt! UGH, it’s like we have twinstinct or something!”

Franz glanced down at his blue shirt. They did look pretty match-y, which they both tried to avoid ever since they were nine and started to recover from their mother's 'my-twins-must-match-in-everything' phase.

“Blue is one of the most popular colors in the world, it’s just a coincidence,” Franz explained with a frown.


She gave a little scoff at his logical conclusion and he passed her to find something in the fridge to cook for dinner. He found a set of pork chops wrapped in butcher paper and figured that was what his mother originally planned to cook. While he took out ingredients to prepare dinner and season the meat, he couldn’t help but overhear his sister and mother talking. Well, mostly Fauna because she had a loud voice.

“So I invited a friend over for dinner, I hope you don’t mind. I figured it was okay since Franz sometimes has his girlfriend over.”

He felt prickled at her constant references to Alanna being his girlfriend. He knew she just did it to wind him up because he hardly ever expressed himself and she wanted a reaction. He decided to ignore her and not give her the satisfaction. Alanna had been too busy to come over for dinner for a while now but she was well-received by his mother in any case and had learned to take Fauna’s word with a grain of salt since they began their friendship.

“That’s fine,” his mother confirmed and shooed Lemoncake out of the dining room. Dolce, another one of their cats, had jumped up on the breakfast bar and was curiously sniffing the air because it smelled like raw meat.

Franz flattened each cut of pork chop, hoping Fauna would find something better to do than try to get a rise out of him. Luckily, the doorbell rang and she went to answer it in a gleeful scamper. She returned to the kitchen with a man about the same build as Franz but not as tall. He had too much gel in his hair. Franz could tell at once that the guy was more than just a friend as far as Fauna was concerned, the way she led him in and kept her hands on him—a touch to the back, a pull at the upper arm.

Dolce was skitty around strangers—darted off the counter and into another room at the sight of him.

“Mom, this is Adam,” Fauna introduced her 'friend’ and he shook hands with their mother in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure,” his mother responded in forced politeness. She seemed somewhat suspicious of the man, but his mother had always been that way around men, especially those Fauna was likely to bring around. He supposed this had to do with the mysterious father that was never in their lives. His mother could see through Fauna’s deceit too—Adam was definitely more of a romantic pursuit for her daughter.


Franz knew that his twin sister was well past a pursuit phase with Adam. Fauna could have chalked it up to twinstinct but he didn’t have to have first-hand experience to know–his observations of people over the years gave the distinct impression they had already hooked up.

“Thanks for having me over,” he said cordially.

“That grump-o-saurus over there is my brother, Franz,” Fauna threw in a quick introduction by giving an off-hand wave in Franz's direction.

Franz only nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Franz finished preparing dinner and loaded the pork chops onto a tray and into the oven. His mother left the room, to take her stack of bills away before Fauna had cared to notice. Meanwhile, Fauna and her boy-toy were loitering in the kitchen and talking but Franz had tuned them out to think of ways he could somehow save the bakery from being sold off as well as a solution to his mother’s financial struggles regarding her sickness.

A sharp hiss broke into his thoughts and he saw that Lemoncake had jumped onto the breakfast bar and was making his opinion of the new man in the house known.

“Whoa there, kitty cat!” Adam seemed startled. Lemoncake was growling and arching his back.

“Lemoncake!” Fauna admonished and swiped him off the counter. He didn’t go quietly and meowled on his way out of the kitchen.

“The cat doesn’t think much of you,” Franz stated, crossing his arms and staring forward at the oven.


Fauna glared at him and they heard their mother call her name from the other room. Franz wondered if this was when their mother would break the news to Fauna. Fauna made a quick apology to Adam and said she’d be right back, leaving him in the kitchen with Franz.

The silence was not something Franz ever felt uncomfortable with and thought that people, in general, had a weird attitude when it came to such a thing—trying to fill it in with mundane chatter when staying quiet was much more peaceful. Adam was no exception.

“Faun said you didn’t talk much,” Adam noted.

Franz only proved so by not replying.

“So what’s for dinner? It smells good,” he took a breath and made a show of appreciating the aroma of the food cooking in the oven.

“Pork chops,” Franz answered, not moving a muscle from the same position he was in—leaning against the island counters with his arms crossed.

Lemoncake pattered back into the kitchen and perched on the same spot he was before Fauna had chased him out. His golden eyes were alert and watching the dinner guest.

“So the ladies let you cook tonight, eh?”

Franz disliked the tone Adam took—insinuating that Franz was less capable or less masculine for cooking food—which in his opinion was a baseline skill for all adults of any gender. Usually, Franz wouldn’t have dignified him with a response but needed to make it clear to Adam that he wasn’t to be fucked with just because he was known to be quiet. In many cases, someone who was quiet was assumed to be unconfrontational, and Franz was not above getting his fists bloody if need be, “My whole family consists of talented cooks, myself included.”

With that said, he turned his head slowly and looked at Adam with an expressionless stare—the kind of stare that put most people on edge, “Do you have a problem with that?”

Adam gave a nervous laugh and held up his hands, “No bro, of course not.”

“I’m not your bro,” Franz stated between subtly grinding his teeth together. Fauna’s taste in men was so loathsome.

Adam seemed to bite his tongue and realize that idly chatting was getting him nowhere. Good. Franz could inwardly sigh in relief that silence had returned. Adam shuffled from foot to foot in a bored, anxious manner before saying, “I’d better see if Faun needs anything.”

With that excuse, he left the kitchen.

Good riddance, Franz thought as he opened the oven to check on the state of the pork chops.


Within a half hour, they were all seated at the dining table and the silence had been dissolved by Adam and Fauna, who were chattering back and forth. If his mother had told Fauna about her sickness, Fauna didn’t seem affected.

His mother was quiet, which was common for the most part but she was usually quite inquisitive when it came to meeting the friends of her children. She didn’t seem to take breaths between questions the first time Franz had invited Alanna over for dinner. Then again, Alanna was the first friend Franz had made in years so it was a special occasion. Fauna was much more of an extrovert and made friends easily, but she never seemed to understand the importance of maintaining them so they would come and go like ephemeral waves.

“So, where did you two meet?” their mother finally asked a question.

“I met him downtown a couple of weeks ago, I forget the bar, which was it?”

“Garden of Eden,” Adam replied.

“Yeah, that was funny because your name is 'Adam' and all! It's the club is in Scandalica City, it's the one with all the trees and plants inside! You know the place, Mom?”

The facial expression on their mother left something to be desired. An unsure smile. It was clear that she didn’t know the place. Franz had never been there either. He didn’t get out much unless it was to the library.

“So do you go to Sim State too?” She asked Adam instead.

“I did but am on a break,” Adam replied, and at seeing the narrowing of Mrs. Schoulsburg’s eyes he quickly deflected any demands to expound on the statement, “What about you Franz? Where do you go to school?”

“He goes to the community college here in town,” Fauna answered for him and grabbed a salt shaker. She had the annoying habit of answering questions for her brother ever since they were kids because he usually took a minute to think his answer through before saying it and she was too impatient to wait for him if she already knew what it would be.

A subtle ripple of emotion crossed Adam’s face ever so briefly and only Franz seemed to notice but didn’t care to know what it was in reference to. He kept on eating his dinner, not bothering to add anything worthwhile to the conversation. He kept stealing glances at his mother to see if she was doing okay. He doubted she was sick enough to pass out onto her plate but he didn’t know the extent of it and it was a kind of torture not knowing. He couldn’t very well blurt out his question in front of the present company, especially if Fauna hadn’t been told about it yet.

The news of the bakery and his mother’s sickness weighed heavy on him, and he ended up retreating into his thoughts for the remainder of dinner, ignoring what was being said by the others.


After he and Fauna helped clear up the dishes, Fauna bid them farewell and left with Adam.

Franz sat in the living room and watched TV with his mother, it was a baking competition show. She loved to point out the mistakes of the contestants and it actually caused Franz to smile, especially whenever she got worked up about the ingredients they used. Lemoncake made himself a new napping spot in Franz’s lap for the duration of the program. The old, yellow cat was a bit like Franz—anti-social but loyal to those he trusted. He absently stroked Lemoncake until the feline was purring loudly as he dozed. After the show ended, his mother told him she was turning in and thanked him for making dinner.

“Mom?”

“What dear?”

“Do you have…I mean…what exactly are you sick with?”

As he had anticipated, she seemed a bit annoyed and gave a half-sigh and yawn at the same time before disappearing upstairs, "Vile Body Tissue.“

A VBT.

He had suspected as much from what she had alluded to earlier. A VBT was serious but survivable with the right treatments, which were notoriously expensive. It also depended on where it was in the body. But that was all he knew of the disease. He shifted his position causing Lemoncake to fall between his legs onto the sofa.

How could he even help at this point? He gave a few pets to Lemoncake as he thought, feeling the vibrations of the cat’s purring through the fur into his fingertips.

His mother needed the money that the Collective was offering to buy the bakery. Was there a way he could get the same amount to pay for her treatments? His only job was working at the bakery. He could take a second job, or find something else that would pay. It had to be a big increase though. He could see about using his scholarship money; he’d gotten quite a bit from the Culinary Arts Foundation that he had yet to use. The community college awarded him module bonuses every semester based on his grades. He had been saving that money for the future and it could be used as well–but it didn't seem it would be enough.

He just felt so helpless in this situation.

He loved the bakery.

He loved his mother.

Now he was at risk of losing them both.