Teddy shrugs. “I think so. I lost track of who was on shift after they got back from their call.”
My stomach churns. It’s an absurd overreaction, but Easton’s first-ever call had been a bad one, and he almost didn’t recover from the pain of watching a child not make it. It took a lot of therapy and reminding him that I will not survive losing someone else I love to bring him back from the edge.
Sometimes I feel guilty for playing that card, and at some point, I’ll probably have to talk to him about it, but right now, I’m still in survival mode. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get out of it.
“Well, I’m gonna go grab my card from Easton. I have to do a store run before I starve to death.”
Teddy gives me a dark look. He’s definitely the station’s mother hen and almost as bad as the chief. They’re both up everyone’s ass about eating right and getting enough sleep. It’s kind of ridiculous to say to a bunch of first responders with the most fucked-up schedules, but I do appreciate that someone’s looking out for them.
And, on occasion, looking out for me.
“Do you want a ride to the store?” he asks. “I’m off in about ten minutes.”
I should say no. I need the exercise for my poor heart. But after theIncident, my driving privileges had been ripped away from me and never returned. That’s been one of the hardest parts of this whole thing. I mean, I get it. The fall I took resulted in me having seizures, and god forbid I have one behind the wheel, but not having that piece of independence has been hard.
The town is small enough that I can survive without a car, but nothing stings like having my ability to go wherever I want, whenever I want, held hostage by my scrambled brain.
“That might be nice. I’m kind of beat.”
He smiles. “I have to finish up a couple things in my office, so you can meet me down there when you’re ready.”
I shoot him a quick thanks in ASL, then head into the station, holding my breath as I pass the entryway offices, though no one’s around this late. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to anyone, but some of the people in admin can be a bit chatty, and I’m really not in the mood for small talk.
Especially since all the answers to their questions are no, I haven’t done anything new and exciting lately. My life is the same, boring, monotonous routine, and I don’t know if that’s ever going to change.
My brother thinks I’m too young to be so pessimistic, but he also has no idea what it was like to lose a spouse, along with a giant piece of himself that he’ll never get back.
Turning the corner, I choose the stairs since I’m taking Teddy up on the ride, and I’m only puffing a little as I make it to the landing.
The station was renovated two years after Easton was hired on, and it’s still a wonder how much work they put into it. It had gone from the fifties-style brick house that felt like it was missing a Dalmatian to a modern, sleek building that looks like it belongs in an IKEA showroom.
The wraparound windows are a nice touch, and I can see the fading sunset in the distance in the direction of Boston. I avoid the city like the fucking plague unless I absolutely must visit.
It’s not that I dislike it. It’s more that I can’t handle anything loud or busy or chaotic anymore. It’s part of the lingering head injury that will probably never heal.
I didn’t just lose a husband in thatIncident.
When Liam and I began to tumble down the slope off the hiking trail, my head caught a massive rock, and when I woke up, my ability to speak was gone for months. And my ability to read, well…that’s still a struggle. The fall also gave me seizures, a panic disorder, and the inability to understand spoken language if I get too stressed.
Which seems to be all the time now, though if I’m feeling a little optimistic, I can admit that’s gotten better in the last few years.
“Dude. What the fuck are you doing here?”
I turn at the sound of my brother’s voice and give him a scrutinizing look. He seems a little stressed but not a shaking mess, which means his call today probably ended okay.
His eyes narrow in a glare. “What?”
I jolt out of my thoughts. “Sorry. I need to get groceries, and you have my card.”
Easton blinks at me. “You could have ordered delivery. Your card is saved on your computer.”
I don’t bother reminding him that at the end of the day, my ability to make sense of a website is pretty much gone because I know how much that bothers him. I try to hide as many of those things from him as I can.
I want him to trust me that I can do this on my own.
Even when I can’t.
“I felt like taking a walk. And besides, I didn’t want to wait. All I have right now is moldy bread and expired milk.”
