Ought To & Can (A San Francisco Fable)

Part II: Can--Chapter 14

"Neil, have you ever thought about going into viticulture?"

Parents are exempt from the usual rules of dinner table conversation. In fact, the more out-of-the-blue or uncomfortable the question is, the better they've done their job.

"Not really. Like, take over the business when you retire, or, is that what you're thinking?" he bumbled to his dad.

"Well, you've given up on radio, right?"

"Yeah."

"You've grown up around vineyards. That summer you helped me before your mission, you seemed to pick up the basics really well. Everyone wants to be involved in wine but most of them flake out eventually. I think you have the right temperament for it. Anyhow, I was talking with Dr. Block at UC Davis and just mentioned you and your situation. You have the grades to transfer your credits and you probably got most of your prereqs out of the way. You'd maybe need to take some biology or chemistry classes in Santa Rosa before you could apply. Another possibility, if don't want to do deal with the grapes, is the wine business program at Sonoma State. But, you know, my advice is just that: my advice. You're under no obligation to follow it"

Leo had never pushed his son to take up the Cannon viticulture mantle before. It was never something Neil had considered. Deep down he knew that his dad was probably right that he might have a knack for the wine world, but he still didn't feel comfortable entertaining the thought.

Neil hadn't gone to church since his mom's scuffle with Bishop Wardlow. That was a show of family solidarity, but he knew it would only be for the short-term. Maybe they'd get a new bishop. Maybe he'd meet the right woman and they'd quickly get married and he'd move away.

But Neil still believed. For him the linchpin of his faith was Joseph Smith's First Vision. The idea that God and Jesus would appear to a 14-year-old farm kid was always beautiful to him. Not because it underwrote Joseph's claims to prophethood, but because it showed how God didn't discriminate. Even the humble can see God.

Of course, the one time he publicly expressed something like that, in a religion class at BYU-Idaho, the instructor gently chided him. The First Vision was important because it restored the True Church to the earth, not because of any symbolic value. In the instructor's eyes, Neil was "downgrading the importance" of the First Vision.

This was an issue he'd been praying about. He had strong faith in his church, but it didn't really seem like his church had a place for him.

It surprised Neil how quickly his parents could just walk away from their faith, like maybe their faith wasn't really strong to begin with and they were only playing the role to please their families.

Like someone agreeing go on a mission to Alaska, maybe.

Neil was saved from the possibly thorny consequences of that line of thinking by the doorbell, which Leo answered.

"Brother Cannon! How are you tonight?"

"I'm wonderful."

"We're not interrupting dinner, are we?," asked Rod Burgess.

The Cannons knew the Burgesses from church, of course, but not really much beyond that.

"We made some pumpkin spice cupcakes for Halloween, we wanted to share them with you."

Leo wasn't sure if they were acting out of their own motivation or if Bishop Wardlow sent them, but he invited them in to sit in the living room. The middle-aged couple of Rod and Amanda Burgess were Utah transplants, very pleasantly bland. He was almost bald, she used a slight excess of hairspray. They were both talkative. And loud. And did everything in their lives as a family activity. They were the kind of family who wore matching pajamas in their Christmas card photo.