The shirt he wears clings to his broad chest. “There’s karaoke over at Diggers on Friday night,” he starts. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me?”
My chest tightens. It’s always the same, Leon or some other guy in town asks me out, I freeze, walking away questioning if shooting them down is the best thing for me.
“I have a thing on Friday, at Grady’s.” I offer a half-smirk hoping to lessen the blow.
“It’s cool,” he mutters. I can tell he’s embarrassed by the way his neck reddens. He runs a hand over the area.
“Maybe next time,” I add, the way I usually do, turning and heading in the opposite direction. The further I get from him, the easier it is to breathe.
“He never gives up, does he?” Desi observes as she scans my purchases.
‘God, I wish he would. To be honest, it’s awkward.” I look back to where Leon stands, pretending to check something on a shelf. I wish I had it in me to like him or anyone for that matter. Women in this town consider Leon an eligible bachelor, with those striking eyes and styled blonde flick.
“I mean, checking the inventory isn’t his job. He isn’t even on the floor unless you walk in. It’s like he has a Shelby radar or something. Why don’t you give him a shot Shelb, what harm could it do?”
“That is not an option, and you know it,” I whisper.
She smiles at me, nods, and packs my goods to go.
“We should plan a girls' night, maybe a baby shower for Dyl?” Desi suggests. Dylan is Grady’s wife and a good friend of mine. I couldn’t quite size her up at first. I probably came across as cold and bitchy, but the pretty musician slowly thawed me.
“Now that is something I am game for,” I tell her. “Come over after your shift, and we can talk about it. Maybe text Emma, too.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Desi winks.
I pull into my driveway and look at the back of a familiar truck. It’s dusty and rusty in equal proportions. The beast sits under a carport, and thankfully most of it is covered, but the elements get to it nonetheless. It hasn’t been driven in these five years. Grady starts it up every now and then, and the hum and purr of the engine make me ache a little. Brody wants to hold onto it, drive it one day, like his daddy. So I do what makes my son happy, but my insides twist every time I see it.
I can still see Drew hopping out of the driver’s side, coming over to take the grocery bags from my trunk. His smile wide and infectious, his eyes gleaming at the sight of me. But nobody comes to help me with the bags today. I’ll haul them inside like a trooper, the way I have these five years since he died. Died. The finality of the word is an illusion. Death is just the beginning for those of us left behind. Drew was my compass, my home, my happy place, and the fact that he hasn’t been around for five years is unfathomable.
Time, they say, heals all wounds. Time healsnothing, not for me at least. And I suppose that is why I can’t give Leon or any of the other men that have shown any interest in me over the years a chance. I can’t let another person into the crevices of my soul only Drew can fill. It wouldn’t be fair to them.
I walk inside the house. The silence of it makes me anxious. I set the grocery bags down and pop a pill the doctor tells me will help with the depression. It’s not so bad when Brody is home after school or over the weekends. It’s fantastic during the summer break. But on ordinary days like today, the loneliness creeps in, and I don’t quite know what to do with myself.
The sound of the scanner makes me jump. I must have turned it on again. The fire station let me keep it, well, Grady did. He made me promise I’d keep it turned off. I never listened. I needed the comfort of knowing what was happening out there. I felt closer to Drew. I’d never been without Drew, so I didn’t know how to be without the one thing that reminded me of him, no matter how painful it was. Without him, I felt like an abyss of memories and thoughts that flowed into each other until it overflowed and overtook me.
I’ve switched it on less often in the last two years, more for Brody than myself. He didn’t need to be constantly worried about fires and accidents. He didn’t seem to notice it at first, but then I’d see him get startled when a call came in, and I knew I had to switch it off.
I pick up the rest of the toys and toss them into the storage container. After returning the DVDs and PS4 games to their rightful places, I vacuum the house and prepare lunch. I do some paperwork for the Foundation, then sit out on the front porch reading a few chapters of the new Stephen King novel, waiting for that familiar yellow bus to appear and my son to come running down the pathway.
But he’s not alone today. A little boy with messy black hair bounces next to him. When they get closer, I notice freckles scattered over his nose and dark chocolate eyes. He looks familiar and I wonder where I have seen him before.
“Hi, Mommy. This is Lucas. We’re gonna do our homework, and play some games.”
“Yeah, sure.” I stand, unsure if hugging and kissing him in front of a friend will be uncool. He steps forward and gives me a quick hug and I smile. “Hello, Lucas.”
“Hey, Mrs. Brooks. Good to meet ya.” The little boy beams.
“Likewise. You boys up for some hot dogs?”
“Yes,” they shout in unison. Brody opens the door, and the boys enter the house in front of me. I don’t miss the, ‘Your Mom is cool.’ whisper from Lucas. That makes me smile, far wider than I have all day.
Chapter 3
Ember
Imake it through my first week at the station, and I find myself with a bunch of the guys in Grady’s backyard. Malone is the fire chief, and as much as I wanted to skip this, I know how important it is to get to know the guys personally, not just at the station. They’re a friendly bunch who have each other’s backs. There’s good banter, but they aren’t my brothers, not yet. That kind of relationship takes time.
I sip on my beer, laughing at their jokes and trying to fit into their circle. There are inside jokes I don’t quite get. It’s probably a small town thing.
