34
Half past eleven, Dillon had been hard at it for almost six hours. He was tired, sweaty, and as happy as he’d been in a very long while. Elena had arrived two hours earlier and fit herself into Dillon’s work like she’d been doing so all her life. His plan was simple enough, but the intricacies were daunting and they had very little time.
Bailey arrived soon after. She stood in the paved forecourt, sourly eyeing a massive pile of ornaments. The fire team and a horde of volunteers scurried around her, shouting and rushing. She entered the chief’s office and declared, “We’ll never be ready on time!”
“Charlie says they will,” Dillon replied.
“One of the generators refused to start,” Elena said. “They’ve brought in another.”
“They couldn’t position the lawn ornaments until the forklifts were gone,” Dillon added. “Charlie thinks the pause might actually have helped. They had enough time to decide where everything’s supposed to go.”
“Remind me,” Bailey demanded. “What are you two working on?”
Dilly replied, “We’re almost done with the FEMA documents. We’re doing a pictorial display of the major requests, thanks to Olivia. Gleason’s going to bind it into booklets with photos to match. Give them something they can study on the way home.” To Elena, “Where is Appendix One?”
“I have it.”
“And the photos?”
Elena waved a sheaf over her head. “Chill, okay?” Bailey asked, “Appendix One?”
Dillon replied, “Don’t ask.” To Elena, “Everything is in order?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Maybe I should check it one more time.”
“No, no, no.” She wiggled fingers in his direction. “Last folder. Gimmee.”
“Please,” her mother added.
“We leftpleaseabout fifty miles back.” Elena plucked the folder from Dillon’s grasp, slipped in her pages, uncapped the felt-tip pen, and scribbled.
“That’s folder seven,” Dillon said.
“Yes, Dillon, I can still count. And yes, they are all numbered. And finally, yes, I have them in order.”
Bailey asked, “Have you two eaten something?”
Elena said, “Claire stopped by with rodent stew.”
“Breakfast burritos,” Dillon corrected.
“Whatever.” Elena hefted the stack of folders and ran for the door. “You children play nice.”
Bailey watched her daughter scurry around workers sorting through the unkempt pile of ornaments, laugh at something Charlie shouted in her direction, and race down the street. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her so happy.”
Dillon stared at the empty space where Elena had been working. “I’ve spent years thinking I was content to go it alone. I pretty much assumed any real need for a family had been cauterized by my childhood. You and Elena have sure proved me wrong.”
“I’m sure someone has said something that nice to me before. Just now, though, I can’t recall when it was.” But her expression did not match her words. “Dillon . . .”
“What?”
“Nothing. It can wait.”
“Tell me.” He swept an arm around the empty office. “It’s just us adults here.”
She hesitated a moment longer, then pulled over a chair and seated herself just out of reach. Dillon started to inch closer, but something in her manner told him the move would not be welcome.
