“Do me a favor,” he said evenly.“Take it at your own pace.We’ve still got time before this place opens up for business.Be kind to yourself.”
She made a sound like a laugh, but it lacked any humor and was laced with pain.“Since when have I ever been kind to myself?”
“Maybe it’s time to start,” he said without judgment.Just as an observation.
Another sound slipped out of her throat, low and quiet.Not quite a groan, not quite a sob.
She spun away from him, visibly fighting for composure.
He reached out and laid his hand lightly on her shoulder, a brief touch of comfort.An offer with no expectations.Letting her know she wasn’t alone.
Her shoulders rose and fell with several deep breaths.She turned around to face him, her composure regained.
“I called my counterpart at the county commissioner's office and asked what exactly we need in terms of permits, inspections, and applications to get this station fully certified.”
“And?”
“Cobbler Cove's original fire department was established in 1947.The only thing required to open a station was a basic construction permit and a handshake from the county.”She added wryly, “Times have changed.”
“How bad is it?”
“Sharon, the county clerk, said it involves roughly the same number of forms as opening a hospital.”She let that land.“The list of hoops you and I have to jump through over the next several months is genuinely impressive.”
She continued, “I've set up a spreadsheet for all the forms, applications, and permits, and I’ve numbered them.Each document in this latest batch has a number in the top right corner.Going forward, we can just refer to them by number instead of by their official titles because some of the names are almost longer than the forms themselves.”
He said in real admiration, “I do love a good spreadsheet and numbering system.”
“The master list has the document names, their numbers, what each is for, and the order in which they need to be completed.Several of them have dependencies.You can't file Form 10 until Form 7 is approved, for example.”
Gray opened the folder.The top form had a neat, hand-written “5” in the corner.She must’ve retroactively numbered the first two sets of forms he’d filled out.He flipped through the folder.Each document was numbered, and in the back of the folder was a print copy of the master spreadsheet.It was a clear roadmap of everything he needed to do get the fire station up and running.
He looked up at her in wordless gratitude.
“I just organized it,” she said with a slight defensive edge that told him compliments in this direction made her uncomfortable.
“It's perfect.Thank you.”
She glanced around the bay once more.“It really does look good in here.”
“It's a solid building,” Gray said.“It just needed some attention and love.”
“Don’t we all,” she murmured under her breath.
He wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear that or if she’d even realized she said it out loud, so he didn’t say anything in response.
Something that looked a lot like longing crossed her face before she headed for the door.“I'll see you soon, I’m sure.”
Very soon, he hoped.He sensed many layers to her that he had yet to see and understand, and he was fascinated by the prospect of revealing every one of them.“See you soon,” he replied.
He told himself, reasonably and sensibly, that he was simply glad to have a competent colleague handling the paperwork.Sure.That was exactly why he was already counting the hours until he had an excuse to see her again.
Friday was a teacher in-service day and Lucas wasn’t feeling well, which meant Bonnie's office had acquired two additional occupants for the day.
Noah had claimed the chair beside her desk, his question notebook open on his knee, a mechanical pencil behind each ear in case one ran out of lead.Cassidy had taken over the small table by the window and arranged her notebook, pens, homework, and library book on it.
“Can I answer the phones?”Noah asked.
“No.”
