“Oh my god,” Julia says, her voice raising an octave withrealization. “Did you go on a date with Thomas Cunningham?”
I forgot that my sister graduated with Thomas. She knows him, probably better than I do. They were in the same friend groups. I think maybe they were even in the same prom group. Crap crapcrap. This is horrible. What if Julia thinks he’s too old for me, or worse, what if she hates him from high school? Though, I’m not sure how anyone could hate him.
“No!”
“Liar! Why didn’t you tell me?” Julia rounds the table to stand next to me. She takes the plate from my hand, plopping it onto the hardwood table.
“There’s nothing to tell!” I shriek. “It wasn’t a date. It was two co-workers decompressing after a very bad night. It wasn’t even supposed to be just us. The rest of the crew on duty were supposed to join, but no one did. There is no story, no date, no nothing!”
“Hmm.” Julia crosses her arms and her deep brown hair cascades over her shoulders with the movement. I can tell she totally doesn’t believe me, but I think she will drop it for now.
“I say go for him,” Grandma says, shocking me.
“Grandma!” I shout. “He’s Julia’s age. I can’t. And even if I wanted to, he’d never go for someone like me.”
Julia pinches my side.
“Ouch, what the hell?” I cry.
“Uhh, what’s goin’ on?” Tiff says, appearing in the kitchen in her navy blue pantsuit and short blonde pixie cut.
“We’re convincing Hannah here that she’s beautiful and any man deserves her.”
“I second the shit out of that,” Tiff states.She walks over, pulling my sister in for a quick kiss, and a whispered hello before stepping over to pull me into a hug. I melt into my sister-in-law's arms. “Hey sis.” She’s called me that pretty much since day one. I adore Tiff and have always felt safe with her.
“Hi,” I say into her neck. “I need you to save me.”
“Quit asking her to save you,” Julia says. “You don’t need saving. You’re fine.”
Pulling back, I dramatically gasp. “Rude.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you know how amazing you are. I know dating is hard for you, but if you wanted it, Thomas, or any man would be lucky to have you, Han.”
My eyes burn with tears that I won’t shed. “Thanks.”
“Time to eat,” Grandma calls, setting down the homemade chicken alfredo onto the table.
6
THOMAS
Sliding the pair of Captain America boxers up my legs, I chuckle to myself. My brothers have teased me about this since I was a kid, but it works like a charm. Every time I need a little bit of good luck, or think something good is going to happen in life, or just need good vibes for the day, I throw on a pair of superhero boxers. It’s not just one pair. I have a few that I cycle through, and over the years, I’ve had to get new ones, but they’ve never lost their power.
Some may say it’s the placebo effect, but I think it’s good old-fashioned manifestation. They’ve never steered me wrong, though. The day I was accepted to the police academy? I had on Hulk boxers. The day I got Arson? Iron Man. The list goes on and on, and it’s not just me that gets the good luck. The day Andrew met his now-wife, Josie, I wore them. I wasn’t sure why, but something about the day compelled me to wear them, and look at the two of them now. Happily married with their first baby due soon.
I can keep going, but honestly the boxers prove themselves every time. Which is why I’m wearing them today. We both are on shift, and I’m hoping I’ll be able to see her.I’m not asking Hannah out yet, but I want to test the waters with her. Maybe flirt a little, and see what happens. If I don’t get a good reading on her, then I won’t ask her out, but with me wearing the boxers, I think it will be a good day.
I load up Arson into the backseat of my police cruiser, and get ready to start the day. I have a renewed sense of excitement about going to work today.
After a call with the FBI to discuss the potential of bringing them in to aid in the ongoing trafficking situation, I get on the road. There was a lot of discussion about attempting to get some undercover guys in there and really see what happens on the inside.
The start of my shift is nothing special, a few traffic stops, and one domestic disturbance that turned out to be a dog barking excessively. My radio beeps an incoming call, and I hone my attention to it.
“Elderly male, eighty-six, fall, no injuries, just needs an assist to stand. Location, Park Woods Independent Living.”
And just like that, my mood drops. Because that’s where Gramps lives. I know it’s him. Goddammit. We’ve been telling him to stop being so goddamn stubborn and start using a walker when he gets tired.
“1831 responding,” I say through gritted teeth into the radio. Fire would usually respond before police in a situation like this, but knowing it’s Gramps has me responding anyway.
