“I spent over thirty years in that fire station,” Dad says, oblivious to my turmoil. “I saw a lot of things during that time, and it’s come close to breaking me more than once.”Mom hums in agreement, her mouth tugging down. Dad reaches over to grasp her hand before continuing, “I’ve also seen other men break, and it can be over the smallest thing. They get back from a callout, and they can just be a shell of themselves, making decisions they never would have otherwise. Sometimes, they stop talking—to friends, to family. They just shut down.”
“I don’t want to use that as an excuse,” I start, but Dad waves me off.
“Shh, I’m talking.” His mouth twitches when I roll my eyes, but he continues, “Anyway, Monroe actually lost someone. It was a fire in a duplex, and they got the family living on one side out. And they said their neighbor, an older woman, lived on the other side, but she had gone away for the weekend.” Dad exhales heavily, his eyes distant. “No one knew she came home early. Monroe and his crew searched her place, but she had fallen, and they missed her in the chaos. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but for some reason, it hit him really fucking hard.”
Mom makes a small noise, shifting in her seat. “I remember this. That’s when his wife left.”
I blink, taken aback. “Ilsa left?”
“You were pretty young, only seven or so. Monroe’s girls hadn’t even been born yet,” she says.
“That’s right,” Dad remembers. “Ilsa was as big as a house, always waddling everywhere. Anyway, after the fire, Monroe went so deep into himself that I don’t think even he knew how to get out. He was like a…a…” He scrunches his face up. “A robot, I guess. Ilsa was really struggling, knowing the twins were coming, and soon. None of her family lived close, and so, when she couldn’t get through to Monroe, and he wouldn’t get help…” Dad shrugs.
Mom nods, adding, “And she didn’t just leave. She stayed gone for almost a year. Monroe missed the girls’ birth and the first six months of their lives.” I wince,knowing how much Monroe loves his nineteen-year-old twin daughters.
“The point is,” Dad interjects, “Monroe got better…eventually. And it was because he found someone to talk to. But it was someone he shouldn’t have. A woman from his past. Now, I don’t know the details, and I wouldn’t share them even if I did.” He lifts his brows, his expression firm. “But the whole thing caused irreparable damage between him and Ilsa, even as it helped heal Monroe.”
Mom sighs, picking up her fork and popping a bean into her mouth. “Ilsa…I don’t think she ever forgave him. They stayed together, but their relationship was changed for good after that, right until the day she died when the twins were sixteen.”
“Wow.” I shake my head. “I just thought they didn't like each other that much.”
Mom’s smile is sad. “You never saw them before, but there was a time when they were happy. It’s not something Monroe likes to talk about.”
I pick up my fork and poke the prongs into a piece of broccoli, pushing it around my plate. “I didn’t do that, though. I mean, I talked to Paisley after my first counseling, but we figured out that was because of reliving everything, right?”
Mom leans across the table, touching my hand. “Yes, we said that. But, sweetheart, think about what that looks like to Gracie. To her, it seems like you didn’t believe she could handle it. And on Christmas, you told her?—”
“That Paisley understood,” I finish, my lips feeling oddly numb.
Dad sighs. “Look, Braxton, we’re not saying anything has been handled the right way these last few months. Not by anyone, including us, or by you and Gracie. If you want to move forward and past this, you need to keep usingthose healthy strategies you’ve found. You’re still going to your group sessions?”
I bob my head. “Every week. And Stevie and I have started gaming online, although we spend more time avoiding friendly fire than anything else.” The words sound so absurd, I can’t stop the chuckle that bubbles out.
Dad shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “The point is that you were blind to Paisley because she was your friend first, and you couldn’t see past history and the mess in your head.” He reaches out, tapping a finger into my temple. “Does it make what you did right? No. Does it make you a bad person? Also no.”
“It’s what you do now that counts,” Mom adds.
She eases the conversation into a more neutral subject as we eat our rapidly cooling dinner. Once we’re finished, Dad disappears into the den to take a phone call, and I help Mom cart all the dishes into the kitchen. I fill the sink with soapy water while she scrapes the leftovers into a container to freeze.
“There is something your dad and I need to talk to you about,” she says. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it, honestly. But I don’t want to lie to you, even by omission.”
“Sounds ominous.” I roll my sleeves up before getting elbow deep in suds.
“Gracie’s living in the house on Oak Street.” I freeze, staring down into the bubbles. I knew that Maryann’s niece stayed in the apartment while Gracie was gone, but I just kind of assumed that Gracie would be back there, almost like she never left.
A minute passes, and then another before Mom tentatively asks, “Braxton?”
I wet my lips. “I heard.”
There’s a clunk as Mom sets something down on the counter. “Well, the house…” She clears her throat. “Your dad and I bought it after…everything, but I knew—” she sucks in a whistling breath through her teeth. “Majorie called me that day she got the other offer, and I knew you’d regret everything that was happening once it all got straightened out.” She pauses, her voice quieter. “We’ve signed a rent-to-own agreement with Gracie. The house is hers.”
The relief that sweeps through me is so strong that my knees buckle, and I lean heavily against the counter. “The house is Gracie’s?” I whisper.
A hand lands on my shoulder, the weight comforting. “Yeah, baby. But…I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but Gracie isn’t there alone.”
I turn my head until I catch sight of her expression, taking in the wariness and trepidation on her face. “I saw her with someone,” I murmur. “I think it was when she first got back.”
Mom nods before leaning against me, resting her head against my arm. “Yes. Nolan. I don’t know any details, but they seemed…close.”
