“Don’t let them bother you,” she adds, waving her hand back down along the street. “People’ll think what they want. You know what you did. And you probably saved a lot of these people’s lives and homes, even if they don’t know it.”
I follow her gesture, looking down at the crowds of people below.
“You think you might be able to put up a sign about that in your store?” I joke lightly. “See if that convinces any of them that I’m not persona non grata?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she replies, and she pats my arm before she retreats into the store once more, stubbing out her cigarette at the last possible moment before she ducks inside. I lift a hand to bid her farewell, and make my way down to the bottom of the street, where the school—or what remains of it—is standing.
It’s bad. Bad enough that I doubt whatever is built in this spot in the future will look anything like the building that has housed so many generations of this town’s children, provided education and support for practically every young person in this place in the last half century or so. The place that Angelie intended to teach her children too.
Ourchildren. I can’t help but think of them like that, though I know I have no business viewing them through that lens until the paternity test has been taken.
I can almost picture what it would look like rebuilt. Not the same as before, sure, but something new—something different. Something more modern, to make life a little easier for those who pass through. Something that might give the kids of this town a better chance to make a name for themselves somewhere beyond the county boundaries.
I feel a smile spreading up my lips before I can stop it. My bank account, for the first time in a long time, doesn’t feel like a burden anymore. It feels like an opportunity. It’s not the one that my father might have taken, far from it, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t. If my children are going to be raised here—if their mother is going to live here—then it’s only fair that I do everything in my power to make sure I provide for them in any way I can.
I head back to my truck, mind fizzing with ideas. With no new calls to pull us away from Devin Ridge, we could stick around for a while, do some work, make a change. I know that the guys would be glad to stay. Even if none of them have said it, none of us have broached the topic of what happened between Angelie and us, I know they’re no more in a rush to get out of here than I am, and that any excuse to stick around will be met with open arms.
I roll down the window of the truck as I drive back toward the cabin, letting the warm summer air rush through the window. In the distance, I can see the green glow of foliage, the stuff untouched by the fire, studded through the blackened trees.
There is still life here, still hope here, despite everything.
And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that it doesn’t end there.
19
ANGELIE
“Alright,has everyone got their shoes on?”
I can’t help but laugh as I catch sight of the answer to my own question—Chuck and Chrissie are leaning on each other, attempting to pull on their shoes with the utmost focus, while Stephanie has already given up and fallen over, in a ball on the ground with her tongue pinched between her teeth as she attempts to do up the Velcro strap of her shoe. Only Jake stands there fully dressed and ready to go, a grin on his face half a mile wide as though he’s utterly proud of himself for being the only one to have actually done what he was asked to.
“Good boy,” I murmur, ruffling his hair as I go to tend to the rest of his siblings in turn. Getting them all ready for a walk together is never easy, but on a beautiful day like today, there isn’t a chance in hell that I’m going to sit around the house doing nothing.
And besides, it’s not like I have much else to do with my time right now. I try not to let the sadness show in my eyes as I help Stephanie with her shoe, letting her lean her little hand on my shoulder for balance as she straightens up.
It’s been nearly a week since the school has officially been shut down, given that there’s nothing of it even left to open up anymore. I managed to pluck up the courage to go by and see it for myself a few days ago, and the shock of seeing the place that I poured so much of my time and energy and love into in ashes on the ground…I’m not ashamed to admit that I cried all the way home, only pulling myself together as I approached the door so my sister and my kids wouldn’t see me in tears.
I don’t know what happens now. I mean, sure, I guess that the kids who would have been taught at Devin Ridge Elementary will just be spread out over the surrounding towns, given places to study that scatter them across the county. But that doesn’t sit right with me, as silly as I know it is.
Because…because the school was a centerpiece of this town. A place that everyone had in common, a place that everyone passed through, at some point or another. And the thought of everyone in this town suddenly being split off like that, it causes a pang in my chest. Will my kids have to go to some school across the county, far away from me? Will I have to go find another job out there, far removed from the comfortable little kingdom I’ve found in Devin Ridge? I can’t imagine it, but I guess I’m going to have to contend with the possibility sooner rather than later, if I want to get back to work and start bringing in money again…
Because it’s not like I’ll have the guys to rely on for much longer.
It feels like a ticking clock has been hanging over my head from the moment the fires were dealt with, a warning that they will be moving on as soon as they get the chance.
Which, of course, I expect, on some level. They haven’t gone to all this effort just to sequester themselves in a small town like this one when they could be helping people across the state,right? With summer in full swing, it’s probably going to be forest fire central for the next few months, so I should wrap my head around them moving on.
But the mere thought of it, no matter how much I try to rationalize it, stabs like a knife into my gut in a way I can’t ignore. It’s not like the last time, when I came back to Devin Ridge and found them gone. Back then, they had no idea that I was pregnant, after all, no reason to think I was carrying their children. But if they leave now, after everything that’s happened, I know that they’re choosing something other than me, other than our family, other than the life that I’ve made for myself here.
I have no right to claim them, to force them to give up on what they’ve worked so hard to establish, but I don’t know if my heart can take losing them on top of everything else that has slipped through my fingers in the last few days.
“Alright, everyone ready?”
I cast my eye over the quads, who, despite a few runny noses and coats buttoned up wrong, look about as good as they’re going to for this walk. I extend my hands, taking Chrissie’s and Chuck’s, who then grab Jake’s and Stephanie’s—a practiced setup for us, one that reminds me of when I was pushing them around in a giant four-wide stroller.
Sometimes, when I look back on those days, I have no damn idea how I was able to keep up with taking care of them at the same time, but maybe I need to give myself a little more credit. I was capable of stuff that I would never have imagined—even if the men leave again, I’m not going to forget that, right?
“Morning, Miss Brown!”
