“Can you please pass the ball, mister,” the taller of the two called out.
Impressed by his mannerisms, I bent down to pick up the ball. As I did, my dog tags slipped out and when I straightened it was to find the boys’ eyes riveted on it. Rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger as if it were a talisman, I pulled back my arm holding the ball, like I’d done a thousand times during the games I played and let it fly. Both boys followed its flight, turning as it sailed over their heads and landed a couple hundred yards from them.
“Still got it, Hawk.” I grinned.
Shock on their faces, the boys ran across the street, stopping in front of me. “Wow, you have a mean arm, mister,” the taller one said.
The shorter one’s eyes lifted from the dog tags to meet mine. “Are you a war hero?”
I cocked a brow at him before I noticed the anticipation dancing in eyes the same color as mine. My gaze flicked between the two of them and sudden memories of me and Griffin at that age surfaced, knocking back the denial sitting at the tip of my tongue. I might’ve become an insufferable bastard, there was no reason however, to dampen the joy of these young boys and their thrill over meeting a soldier.
When I realized the taller boy was talking, I gave myself a mental shake. “What makes you think I am?”
The gray-eyed boy took a step closer. “You were limping and you’re holding a dog tag.” His keen observation had a smile tugging at my lip. “Mom has one like it. She said her best friend gave it to her. Did you get hurt in the war?” He pointed to my leg.
My jaw clenched, unsure if I was annoyed by his probing or his innocence. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to talk to strangers, boy?”
He shrugged, his nonchalance reminding me of Griffin’s ‘fuck-it all’ attitude. “Everyone knows everyone here, mister. Visitors only come to see the shipwreck.” He gestured with his chin toward the beach. “Are you moving into Captain’s house?”
I frowned. “Captain?”
He pointed a finger to the house I’d just left. “Yeah. Captain Frank was a famous war hero too. He used to tell all the boys stories down by the Huddle until he died this year.”
The irony was laughable. Maybe I’d grow into an old war hero in that house too and tell stories. I internally snorted but asked out loud, “huddle?”
“Yeah, it’s a campfire place on the beach that Captain Frank built when he came back from the war,” the taller boy replied, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
As if my injury was no longer a fascination, the shorter one touched my arm. “Would you like to play catch with me and my friends.” There was odd familiarity to his smile and strangely I felt my lips stretch into a genuine smile.
“Sure.”
Might as well get acquainted if I planned on staying here. I sent a short text to Brax letting him know I’d meet them for dinner at the hotel then glanced around as I followed the boys across the street. Judging by the layout I’d seen as we drove into the town, I figured it was about the same size as my hometown. Two differences existed, though. With Rocky Mountain, it was surrounded by mountains and held too many memories of Griffin, Ryleigh and Blue. While Blue Haven, ironically sharing her name, sat with the sea at its front door and mountains at its rear.
“Shouldn’t there be a fence around this place?” I asked, watching the taller boy set up his other friends.
“Nah.” The gray-eyed boy stood by my side, waiting. “Too many old people live on this street, they drive real slow.”
I grinned. “Old people, huh?” Would they consider me old if I moved in? “I’m Shay, what’s your name.”
“Griffin,” he replied, distracted by his friend shouting for him to move away.
Startled, I stared after him as he ran to his friend’s side. Slowly, shaking my head, I looked heavenward. “Are you fucking kidding me, bro?” I could imagine my friend laughing down at me. Seemed like along with my friend, fate had a sick sense of humor. What were the chances that the one place I’d chose to find respite from my memories, I’d find reminders of the two people I loved the most. I glanced at the boy again and smiled. He returned the gesture with a wave.
Maybe this was what I needed. Maybe this was the change Dad mentioned. Maybe this was my new beginning with Griffin and Blue, well in name only for her. Grinning, I concentrated on the game.
The sun was dipping into the horizon, casting its carpet of pink hues around us, when Jesse, the blue-eyed boy I met with Griffin, called out, “Griff, Dad’s here.” Until that moment, I’d assumed they were friends, not that I’d bothered to ask but the way they raced off to greet the man climbing out of the truck parked on the roadside, I figured they were siblings.
His smile a genuine welcome I was used to in a small-town environment, their father approached me, his hand outstretched. “Hey, I’m Caleb, the boys tell me you’re moving into Frank’s place?”
“Shay.” His handshake was firm, confident. “Thinking about it.” I grinned.
“You taking over his garage too?”
“Planning too.”
Caleb chuckled. “You don’t seem too sure. Is it the town or just...” he trailed off, leaving me to answer.
My laugh was light, lacking in mirth. “First day in town and the night’s still young, I guess.”
