She threaded a dress shirt onto a hanger, then hung it on the back of a chair. “Tell me more.”
He leaned back in his chair and told her about the dance that Robin had taught the kids, the one from her Zumba class. By the end of the story, they both were laughing.
“Robin’s cupcakes were a hit. And the kids all behaved themselves. They barely needed chaperones.”
His mom quieted, smoothed the tablecloth in front of her. “Seems like I’ve been hearing a lot about Robin lately.” She kept her eyes on the table as she spoke.
“Yeah, she’s a good friend.”
“Maybe more than a friend?”
“Naw, we just keep running into each other, that’s all.” The kiss from earlier that night lingered, but so did herI’d like to stay friendsannouncement.
“I know that look. It’s exactly like the time Colleen broke your heart. You looked just like that when she turned you down.” His mom gave him a sharp glance. “I know Robin has a place in your heart.”
“Ma, I’m telling you, we’re just friends.” And after tonight, they’d stay that way.
“You might be telling yourself that, but in your heart, she’s always had a bigger place.” She snapped another towel. “I remember watching the two of you study together. You always were so in sync. She taught you a lot that year. You made a good team.”
“That might be true, but it doesn’t matter anyway. She’s leaving town.” He might be too, come to think of it, depending on the situation with Tucker and the smoke jumping gig. Robin was right to cool things off. Maybe.
“Already? She just got back. I thought she was home for a while.”
“She says she’s only here until her grandparents come back from Florida, and then she’s moving on to bigger things.” And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth.
“That’s too bad. I always liked that girl. She has style, like her grandma.”
He smiled at that. “She sure does. And if anyone can make a name for themselves, it’s Robin. She has big ideas and the chops to back them up.” He thought about her helping Ben learn math. Yep. She was special all right.
He got up from the table.
“Wait,” Mom said. “What have you decided about joining Tucker’s crew?”
“I don’t know. I like the idea of doing something heroic, but I’ve never wanted to leave Deep Haven.” Sammy bent and rubbed at his knee. Sometimes a phantom ache would crawl over his legs, reminding him of what he had given up.
His mom began stacking the folded laundry back into the basket. “There are more ways to be a hero than fighting fires in a wilderness.”
“I know that. I wish I knew what that looks like for me.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, sat back down.
“Sometimes I worry you’ve been searching so hard because you never had a father around to encourage you.” Sammy could see the fraying edges of the bathrobe she wore over her pajamas around the house. “You missed out on the steady influence of a dad.”
Sammy’s parents had married young and had Sammy less than a year later. His dad had died shortly after that of an aortic aneurism. He had been in the military straight out of high school for a four-year term, and then he’d been a firefighter. It didn’t take Sigmund Freud to see why Sammy might want to follow the same path. His mom had always said that his dad was a good protector.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I never knew Dad, so how could I feel the loss of him?”
“That’s just what I mean. You never had a hero in your life to model yourself after. Not really. All the stories in the world about your dad couldn’t replace him in your life. You’ve had to be your own hero.”
“I had you.” He reached out and took her hand. His mom was worth ten dads as far as he was concerned.
She smiled at him. “Not the same and you know it.”
“I had my football coaches, Coach Presley and Coach Knight, and the guys at church.” He let go of her hand and leaned back again.
“True.” She reached for another towel from the laundry basket.
“But all those people can’t help me figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”
“God has answers for you if you ask.” Mom flicked out the wrinkles in the towel and then deftly folded it. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
