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Who the Heart Chooses

Page 84

by Harlow James

My dad nudges my mom from the side. “We should get us some cushions, hun. Lord knows my ass can’t handle this cold steel for very long.”

My mother pats his shoulder. “I’ll put it on the list when we get home.” Leaning behind me, my mom speaks to Easton. “So how is the college job going, Easton? I see your guys out there on campus every day.”

Easton blows out a breath. “It’s going. We’ve had a couple of hiccups this week, but nothing that’s setting us too far behind schedule.”

My father clears his throat. “The director of campus services told me that the fire academy won’t be able to conduct some of our drills next week because of the job.”

“Unfortunately, that’s right. We had to change the order we’re tackling each area. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

My father shrugs. “Just as long as the boys can complete their training before it gets too cold to be outside.”

Dad may be the fire chief for the department, but he also serves as a director for the college’s fire academy. By Dad’s order, every firefighter in Garnet Valley has to spend a certain number of hours teaching there.

Blair hated training in the cold and reminds us every time the academy comes up.

“Make them run in the cold like you did when I was going through the program,” Blair interjects. “You didn’t seem to give a shit about that when I was there.”

My father looks over his shoulder at my sister. “That was a rare cold front we got early that year and you survived.”

Blair rolls her eyes. “Sure. Tell that to my frostbitten toe.”

“Last time I checked, your toes were all still intact, Blair.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll be able to take a few days off for the family camping trip,” my mother interjects as she speaks to Easton across my front this time, and thankfully so. My dad and Blair could squabble with each other all night if we let them.

I have no idea how she works for him. But she really loves being a firefighter, so I guess it’s something she just has to put up with to keep living in our small town.

And the boys love watching them argue. It’s like being a kid again and watching your sister get busted by Dad.

“Uh, what camping trip?” Easton asks, glancing at me as I shove a chunk of brisket in my mouth.

My mother’s eyes widen. “Lennon Banks Riley, you didn’t tell Easton about camping?”

With bulging cheeks, I shrug and say, “I forgot.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I brought it up then, huh?”

Easton pulls his phone from his pocket, opening his calendar. “When is the trip?”

“In three weeks,” Mom replies.

I watch Easton tap away on his screen and then he shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Added to the calendar. I’ve gotta say, I’ve always wanted to go on a Riley family camping trip.”

Blair laughs. “Oh, you say that now, but just wait, Easton.”

He glances back toward her. “Wait for what?”

“The incident,” she says as my mom rolls her eyes.

Easton looks at me. “What incident?”

I finish chewing and search for a napkin. As if I summoned it, Easton produces one in front of my face. First the butt pillow, the food, and now the napkin? It’s like he knows what I need before I do.

“Don’t listen to my children,” Mom interjects. “They’re just being dramatic.”

Blair tsks. “Sorry, Mom. But we have records.”

Easton frowns. “Can someone please explain?”