by Jena Wade
“Oh, yes, of course it would. But since your grandmother's house is in a different township, you don't have to follow the same rules and fundraising regulations that we have here in Millerstown township.”
“Fundraising regulations?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You know, all the different fees and taxes related with fundraising efforts that—” We were interrupted by the ring of the school bell and she smiled at me. “Well, time to get started. We'll take attendance, and then get everybody in line for the bus. First stop is the library and don't let me forget that Mrs. Smith, the head librarian, wants to talk to you about your book and doing a couple of readings there.”
I grinned, and happiness bubbled inside me. I hadn’t expected to be welcomed back to Millerstown with such open arms. But it seemed that I was, and I was more than happy to participate in whatever was asked of me. I wanted Christopher to be a part of a community that he could be proud of. “Of course,” I said.
***
At the library, the head librarian, Mrs. Smith, walked around teaching the kids about how they catalog books. She also showed off their computer lab, which consisted of two slightly out of date laptops and a combination printer/copier machine that looked as if it had seen better days.
I didn't understand the lack of funding for the library. I'd seen their bulletin board by the front entrance, which had outlined their fundraising efforts for the past several years. They seemed to bring in a good amount of fundraising money. So where the hell was it going?
Once the kids sat down at the tables and ate their morning snack, Mrs. Smith came over to me. “Oliver Stone. It's so good to see you all grown up.”
I grinned. “Thanks, it’s good to be all grown up.”
She laughed at that. “I'm so sorry to hear about your grandmother. She was a great person.”
“Yes,” I said. “She was. She lived a full life.”
“She did.”
Mrs. Smith laid a hand on my forearm. “And she loved you and Christopher very much. She was so proud of you.”
I grimaced at that but tried to hide it. Proud of her grandson who had no college degree and was a single father? Okay. Grandma had always been supportive of me, in any of my endeavors, but I knew she’d worried about me being a single father.
“Now, feel free to say no, but I know that you and your friend have a few children's books published. We have a couple of copies here in the library.”
I smiled widely at that. “I saw them. Thank you. That's awesome.”
“They are some of our most popular books. They get checked out quite regularly. I’m surprised they were here today.”
“I'd be happy to donate an extra copy or two, so you have some more on hand.”
Her eyes brightened. “Oh,” she said. “We couldn't ask you to do that.”
“It's no big deal. I've got plenty of copies.”
“Well, we do a children's reading hour one Sunday a month and I was hoping that maybe one of these Sundays, you could come and read one of your books? Maybe do a little activity with the kids?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I'd be more than happy to. I can even bring the first proof copy of the next one in the series that will be out next month.”
“There's another one? That's exciting.”
“And I'd be happy to help with the fundraiser you've got going on at the end of the month. I see that you'll be doing a silent auction.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Can't keep up with the budget cuts that keep happening. We were hoping to be able to afford two more laptops for the computer center, but our budget got cut a bit and then there’s the five percent tax on all fundraising as well. It’s not much, but it adds up.”
Five percent tax? What the hell was going on here?
I knew there was no tax on fundraising money, but I didn't say that out loud. Maybe the town did things differently? I didn’t know.
“Yeah, it's tough,” I said, for lack of anything better to say.
The kids were beginning to clean up now. We’d be lining up to board the bus soon, then we’d be off to the fire department where I would see Philip.
“So,” Mrs. Smith said. “I'll get in touch with you, okay? It was great to see you and I'm really happy that you're back in town.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I am too.” I never expected to be able to say that, but the recent turn of events had proved that taking this leap of faith was a positive change for both myself and Christopher. When Kayden moved here we’d really get moving on the daycare. We’d have our own business to run, bigger than what we’d had in the city and we’d have more time to work on our books. Things were really starting to head in the right direction for us.
“Say hi to Philip for me.” Mrs. Smith winked.
I ducked my head, knowing that a blush crept over my cheeks. “I'll do that,” I said.
Chapter Ten
Philip
The days that we had school field trips at the station were always exciting. I'd always liked kids and showing off some of the cool things that we had was always fun, as long as we didn't have a call that day.
Having Christopher and his class come in was like a dream come true for me. I felt like I could show off for my son and his friends. After all, what child didn't dream of growing up to be a fireman? And I actually was one.
I stared out the second-floor window of the firehouse, waiting for the bus to arrive. When it finally did, I waited to make my entrance. Our station had an old fashioned fire pole. We didn't actually use it, except for fun. We had stairs for regular travel between the floors. But as soon as I heard the kids coming in through the open bay door on the first floor, I grabbed hold of the pole and slid down. I wore my turnout gear pants and a white t shirt.
At some point during the tour me, or one of the other guys, would dress in full turnout gear to show the kids what all it entails.
I hit the floor and looked at the surprised faces of twenty-two five-year-olds. I immediately caught my son's wide eyes. I flashed him a grin and a wink. Then I saw his Omega dad standing directly behind him, looking sexy as ever. And based on the look on his face, he was having the same thought about me.
Mission accomplished.
“Hi kids,” I said. “You guys want to learn about being a firefighter?”
There were plenty of nods and shouts of “Yes!”
Christopher's grin was almost wider than his face. His eyes were scrunched together from excitement. “All right, let's take our tour. Let me show you around.”
I showed the kids where we slept, ate, and played games in between our calls. Then we got down to the serious stuff. My coworker Cameron, the only Omega on the crew, came down to help show and explain our turnout gear. No one would guess that Cam was an Omega. The guy was more muscular than me, and he stood at least two inches taller than my six foot.
I took each piece of equipment and explained what it was, what it did, and what we had to check on it to make sure it was safe to use before a fire. Then I passed around the helmet for the kids to hold so they could take turns putting it on. Of course, I gave Christopher my helmet and jacket to wear.
Ollie and I both looked at him dressed in my turnout gear and snapped a few pictures.
I wanted to pull Ollie into my arms just then so we could savor our cute little family moment, but I knew it wouldn't be appropriate given the setting. I settled for squeezing his hand instead.
When all the kids went with Cameron to look at the fire truck, I stayed behind and gave Ollie a quick hug.
“How has the day been so far?” I asked.
“Long,” he said. “Not going to lie, I'm exhausted.”
“You look a little tired.”
“Well, I was pretty busy all weekend doing things I hadn't done in a long time.”
I raised eyebrow and looked at him.
“Painting,” he said.
“Right,” I said, and I gave him an exaggerated nod. “We still on for Thursday? I wish I could come over to
night, but I'm on for the next three days.”
“I know. It's fine,” he said. “Thursday sounds great. Maybe you could stay over.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I'd like that. Do you think Christopher will mind?”
“No,” Ollie said. “He'll be ecstatic. He'll probably invite you to move in with us.”
“I wouldn't say no to that.”
Ollie bit his lip. “It's a little too soon.”
“I know,” I said. “I was just teasing. I'll go at whatever pace you want. You're calling the shots here, Omega-mine.”
He nudged my shoulder. “Come on. We've got to get back to the class or our son might get himself into some mischief.”
I chuckled. “Please. Our son is a saint.”
“Ha!” Ollie said. “Let me tell you some stories about how that's not the case. Which reminds me, I brought something for you.”
“What is it?” I asked.
The two of us began walking toward where the class was. Cameron had taken the kids to the other side of the truck and was currently answering questions.
Ollie pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to me. It was a flash drive.
“What’s on it?” I asked.
“Every picture and every video that I've ever taken of Christopher. These are all copies, so this is yours to keep.”
I looked at it like it was the most important thing in the world to me, and I plucked it out of his hand. “Thank you,” I breathed. “This is amazing. I can't wait to take a look at them.”
“Well, it might take you a few days. I got a little camera happy his first few weeks.”
“I noticed that. Pretty sure we didn’t even get through his first year when you were showing me pictures this weekend.”
“Yeah, there might be around thirty pictures a day until he was three.”
I blinked back tears. “Thank you,” I said again.
He smiled. “Not a problem.”
***
I didn't even bother going back to my apartment after work two days later. I went straight to Ollie's house to see him and Christopher. When I got there it was later than I normally arrived, but I was surprised to find the house quiet. I walked right in, not bothering to knock, and found Ollie sitting on the couch with an open bottle of beer in his hand. He had papers all over the coffee table.
“What's going on?” I asked. “Where's Christopher?”
Ollie groaned. “Sorry, I meant to text you. Christopher was in a mood tonight. So, he unfortunately got sent to bed early. He refused to eat his dinner, demanded I let him watch videos on my phone and tried to sneak a popsicle out of the freezer after I’d told him no. He threw a fit when I took it from him. So, off to bed he went.”
“Sorry, I missed it. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Ollie said. “He's just a five-year-old in a grumpy mood. I'm sure you'll get to see your fair share of temper tantrums.”
Oddly enough, I looked forward to that. I wanted to experience all that parenthood had to offer. “Yeah. Well, I wish there was something I could do.”
Ollie grinned. “You can be here in the morning and tell him that he needs to eat his breakfast. At one point tonight, he told me that he never wanted to see me again.”
I sucked in a breath. That sounded awful. “How did you handle that?”
Ollie shrugged. “Same way that I always do: explain to him that words have an impact and it's okay to be in a bad mood, but he can't treat people poorly. He'll apologize tomorrow.”
“All right, if you say so.” I sat down on the couch next to him and pulled him into my arms. He rested his head against my chest.
“How was your shift?”
“Good.” I said. “Nothing too exciting. I volunteered to take an extra shift on Saturday, so I'll be working then but it won't be a full three days, just a twenty-four hour rotation.”
“You'll be here Sunday, right? We were going to go to that children's museum, remember?”
I squeezed him tighter. “Yeah,” I said. “I'll be here for that. That’s going to be a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, it will be,” Ollie said.
“Are you still working on the daycare paperwork?” I gestured to the sheets of paper that covered the coffee table.
“No,” he said slowly. “I've got all of that done and filed away. I was just going over some of the town budgeting stuff that doesn't make sense.”
“What do you mean?” I pulled back to look at him.
He sat up right. “Well, it's just that I was talking with the librarian, Mrs. Smith, and she made it sound like they have to pay fees and taxes on the money that they fundraise, which doesn't make any sense because money that's donated doesn't get taxed. I wanted to see for myself what was going on. Sure enough, they’re paying fees on it, but I can't see anywhere where that amount is allocated in the budget.”
“That doesn't make any sense,” I said.
“I know. I wanted to talk to you about that. Have you spoken with your dad lately?”
“No,” I said. “I haven't even gone over there for Sunday dinners like I usually do. I’ve talked to my mom a few times. But Dad had a conference or something and he's been busy with other stuff. So, I just haven't talked to him.”
Ollie bit his lip and looked away. I tucked a finger under his chin and tilted his face toward me. “What is it?”
“While I was at town hall, getting the copy of the budget, I did see that he filed the paperwork for you to run for mayor. If you didn’t apply, then I’m pretty sure your dad did for you. I wanted to make sure you didn’t change your mind and decide to run.”
“What the fuck? No,” I said. “I have no desire to do that. I've told him that a thousand times.”
“Philip,” Ollie said. “Is it possible that your dad is… I mean, I don't know where this money is going…” He gestured to the papers on the counter. “And I talked with the school administrators, the librarian, all of them have said they had to pay fees on the money that they've fundraised, but I don't know where that money is going. And their budgets have been cut year after year.”
“What are you saying?” I asked.
Ollie took a deep breath and met my eyes. “I think your dad’s embezzling money from the town. He probably has been for years.”
I stood. “The fuck he is. I know he's gone off the deep end about this mayor thing, sure. And he wants me to take over. But that's just because everybody in our family has been a mayor for the past four generations.”
“Right? And no one really questions the decisions your dad makes about town,” Ollie said.
“Ollie, no. My dad wouldn't do that. He loves this town.”
Ollie stood and grasped my shoulders. “I know this sucks to hear. But you know what your dad is capable of. I mean, the man gave me a check hoping I would terminate my pregnancy, in order to get out of town.” He sighed and looked away. “I just think it bears looking into.”
“No,” I said. “He wouldn't do that. He couldn't do that. And just because you and my dad don't get along, doesn't mean you can accuse him of embezzling money from the town that he has served for the past thirty years.”
Ollie set his jaw and stared at me hard. “Why don't you look over the paperwork and let me know what you think. Okay?”
I shook my head and stepped away. “No, I don't need to look it over. I know my dad and he wouldn't do that. Let's talk about something else.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” Ollie said.
“Maybe it's be best if I just go home.” I shook my head, trying to clear it. My fingers itched to pick up the papers on the table and toss them in the trash, that would make it easier for me to continue denying the truth in front of me.
“That's probably a good idea,” Ollie said. “It's been a crap day and it doesn't seem like it's going to get any better.” He sat back down on the couch, grabbed the remote, and flipped on the TV.
I stood the
re for a moment, stunned into silence, unsure of what to say, knowing that I’d botched the situation horribly.
“I'll call you tomorrow,” I said and turned to leave.
Ollie let me go without another word.
Chapter Eleven
Philip
I should have gone home when I left Ollie’s house, but I opted instead to go straight to my parents. I wasn't going to let my dad and his fucked up ideas regarding my responsibilities in life interfere with mine and Ollie's relationship any longer. I wasn't convinced that my dad was stealing money from the town. How could he be? He’d been mayor for thirty years. Someone would have noticed by now.
Someone did notice. Ollie noticed.
It was dark by the time I arrived and only the light in my dad’s office was on. I entered the house without knocking and went right to his office. He was behind his obnoxiously large, solid mahogany desk doing paperwork of some sort.
Was that bought with stolen money?
He looked up with a frown but smiled when he saw me. “Philip, I'm glad you're here. I turned in your application so your name will be on the ballot. That Harry something or other is looking to run against me this term. He's your age. Thinks he has all these ideas about how to run this town.”
“Dad. Dad. Stop. His name is Harrison Bowman. I went to school with them. He's actually quite intelligent.”
“Never mind all that,” my dad said. “Let's talk about your campaign. I think—”
I shook my head. “No, Dad, for the last and final time, I am not running for mayor. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to go down to town hall and retract that application. I have half a mind to tell somebody that you forged my signature to begin with. Isn't that illegal?”
“I'm just doing what's best for you,” my dad said, sitting back in his chair looking slightly defeated.
“What's best for me is for you to let me live my own life. It's not as if I'm sitting around doing nothing. I have a job. I want to be fire chief one day.”
“Millers have always served this town.”
“I am serving this town,” I said. “I’m a firefighter.”
