He pointed out that Angela’s husband was sick and she couldn’t do it, and Brian had some other reason he wasn’t interested. Everyone else, while having more technical law enforcement time, didn’t bring my overall experience.
I probably should’ve said no. There were many other excellent deputies. But that gnawing feeling that hesitatingor refusing would further cement my cowardice and ingratitude for what I’d been given had me instantly saying yes.
Without ever actually asking Brian. Angela was on a leave of absence at the time, so her refusal made sense, but I should’ve asked Brian before I snatched up the job.
Then the interim part was up, they held an election, and here I am. Sheriff. Full-on. Completely undeserving based on seniority and law enforcement experience and trying to shove down the imposter syndrome so I can just do the damn job.
In fact, it’s nagged at me a lot lately, especially with all of these unsolved cases, and I end up blurting out as much when we leave the station.
“You ever want to be sheriff?” I am as subtle as an earthquake.
He laughs. “No.”
“Really?”
He tsks. “Why do you sound surprised? What about me gives you any impression I want to deal with the bureaucraticandpolitical job that is sheriff?” He shakes his head. “Wholeheartedly, I do not want your job, Sheriff. I’m happy doing my thing and supporting whoever’s in charge.”
This tracks. It does. I feel it, too, and if my mentor had caught me a few months further down the road, maybe a bit further along in the process of accepting where I was in life and not feeling quite so much like I needed to earn my place in all things, I wouldn’t have said yes. At the time, it seemed insane to take on more, but there was something in my gut telling me to lean in. Whispering that maybe this is what I needed to add some meaning to my life here since so much had changed with what I thought I’d be doing.
“Fair enough.”
He pats my back and comes to a stop in front of thepharmacy. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re in the seat. You’re good at this, Grant.”
I scowl, feeling anything but like I’m doing a good job lately. “Thanks. I’m trying to figure it out.”
Brian nods like this is a given. He’s guided me through a lot here, and there’s no chance I’d be doing much of anything without him, Angie, and the rest of the deputies.
We part ways and I continue on to Jerry’s. Dec is waiting out front and Finn is jogging up from the opposite direction. He’s literally jogging, and I swear he has an endless well of energy. Sometimes, just looking at him makes me feel ancient, and I feel every one of the seven years I have on him.
“Let’s do this! I am going to destroy some cheese fries.” Finn pumps his fist.
Dec and I share a look.
Finn grins. “Why are we scowling, big brothers one and three? Am I not allowed to show some enthusiasm for the perfection that is Jerry’s cheese fries? I just did four back-to-back training sessions after farm chores first thing, and I missed my morning snack, so I’m ready.” He keeps walking and steers himself between us, patting us both on the back with a crisp slap, not stopping to chat. “Seriously, guys, let’s go.”
We seat ourselves in the corner booth in the back that accommodates three comfortably. I peruse the menu, stomach cramping from hunger.Did I eat breakfast?
“Well, hello there, lovely Sam. I didn’t know you work here!”
Finn’s words have my head snapping up to see Sam standing at the end of our booth wearing the light pink old-timey diner dress that is the Jerry’s diner uniform, hair pulled into a high ponytail.
Food forgotten, my stomach does some other obnoxious motion like it’s sliding in her direction, a gravitational force not to be denied.
“I just started a few days ago. You’ll have to bear with me if I’m a little slow.” She grips her pen harder and hovers it above her pad. “What can I get you?”
Finn rattles off his gargantuan order like they’re old friends and she scribbles furiously. Dec talks slower, gentler, and it’s like she’s his patient, not his waitress. He is highly empathetic and intuitive, so I’m not surprised he clocked the way Sam is cagey, if not outright anxious at times.
“And you, Grant?”
Our eyes meet and I swear I’ve never seen eyes like that. Brown, but there’s green and gray swirled in. The light’s hitting just right so I can see the variations, and I’m lost for a second.
“The hypoglycemia is real.” Finn taps the table in front of me. “Order your food, Sheriff.”
I snap out of it, ordering a burger and fries. I should probably get something else, but it sounds so good, and for some reason, I can’t think of anything else on the menu, anyway.
“Great. It’ll be out in a few. Thanks, gentlemen.” She smiles and her gaze flicks back to mine before she turns away, arms full of menus.
A beat of silence passes, and I spend it gulping water, eyes focused out the window toward the mountain.
