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understand, not being Italian or anything, but this was our family business—the
Tosi
Bakery. I couldn’t leave it, just like that—that was the last thing I wanted to do.” He sighed again. “I’m a self-made man now, you know? Even Bobby can’t say that. I’m a real high achiever. But you know what? I’d give it all up just to have the family business back.”
    “I don’t understand,” said Chris. “You said you had to get out.”
    “I mean I was forced out.” He held up a hand. “I’m not accusing Bobby of anything—it was all fair and square—it’s just not the choice I’d have made, that’s all.”
    “What happened?”
    “Well, I asked Bobby to buy me out. Of course he wouldn’t, but he really did want me to leave. I mean, somebody had to go, that was obvious, and neither of us wanted to start a new bakery. Both of us wanted that one.”
    “Yes?”
    “Of course, now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure I wanted that Tosi Bakery a hell of a lot more than Bobby ever did. He was already the family’s fair-haired boy and everything—he didn’t have anything to prove; I was the one who did. If he’d been the one to leave, he’d probably have done it a lot more easily than I did—I mean, he considered it a kind of pleasant challenge rather than”—he seemed at a loss for words—“than what you have to do to survive.” He paused and his voice dropped. “It’s survival to me, and it still scares the hell out of me.”
    Looking at him, I could believe it. He was fidgeting with his coffee cup, and the swarthy Tosi hide looked almost pale. It was apparently very hard for him to talk about—probably even think about—these things. I figured he must be doing it for a reason and he’d get to that pretty soon. But there was still something about this part of it that I didn’t get.
    “How,” I asked, “did your brother get you to leave?”
    “Well, he didn’t exactly
get
me to leave. Like I said, I think he was sort of willing to be the one that left. But he won the toss.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Finally, it just got ridiculous and there didn’t seem anything else to do without a lot of dumb lawsuits. So we flipped a coin.”
    I let out a whoosh of breath, but Chris was on top of the thing fast. “Let me guess,” she said. “It was Robert’s idea, right?”
    “How’d you know?”
    “Oh, just a thought. So winning the toss gave him the right to buy you out, is that it?”
    “Right. He even offered to lend me money to start a new bakery, but I wouldn’t take it. I didn’t want to owe him anymore. In fact—I guess you know this—we don’t talk much anymore.”
    “We heard that.”
    “It’s no big fight, really. He’s asked me to lunch a few times, and every now and then I’ve gone. It’s just that I find him so damned…”
    “Arrogant?” asked Chris.
    “Exactly! You’re reading my mind.”
    She smiled modestly. “Just a good guesser.”
    “Well, anyway, what I was getting to—I’ve been pretty scared, starting Palermo and all.” His wife reached out and took his hand. He paused, as if he’d lost his place. Then he said, “You know? Real scared. It’s the toughest thing I’ve ever done. And I’m doing good. I’m doing real good. I’ve got this house and a beautiful wife and all the nice clothes I could want and a Mercedes. And I’ve got the second most successful bakery in San Francisco and the best bread.” He was sweating, speaking slowly. “But I’m still scared. I’m afraid I’m gonna lose it all. I’m afraid one day I’ll wake up and it won’t be there. Somehow, it just doesn’t seem like it was written for the younger Tosi kid—the dumb one—to make it like this. You know? It’s like I can’t quite believe it; like I’m afraid I’ll wake up someday and find it all gone.” He stopped and looked at us with pleading eyes. “You know?” We nodded on cue.
    “So, listen, I really need that starter. It might give me just the