Courage

by Kristen Proby

  “I’m not buying you shit,” I respond but clink my beer bottle to his. “You can buy mine. I pulled your ass out of that building this morning.”

  His face sobers. “Deal.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see Natasha’s name on the screen. Guilt moves through me.

  Aside from a brief conversation the night I arrived, I’ve barely talked to her. It’s been mostly text messages, and even those are few and far between.

  It’s not at all what I envisioned when I left her house the other morning.

  But I’m busier than I expected. Between calls and training, there just hasn’t been a break.

  I send her to voicemail. I wouldn’t be able to hear her if I took the call in here, but I’ll be sure to call her back when we leave.

  “Everything okay?” Charlie asks.

  “Aside from long-distance relationships sucking ass? Yeah, everything’s fine.”

  “If this is the life you want, relationships are hard, period,” Diego says. He has to be fifty, but he’s incredibly fit with a handlebar mustache streaked with silver. “We have crazy hours, and it’s just fucking demanding.”

  “I’m used to crazy hours,” I remind him. “And I think some guys can have good relationships.”

  “Our job is a mistress,” Diego responds. “And it’s one that most women don’t want to compete with. I live and breathe this job.”

  I nod. I know other men in Cunningham Falls with similar philosophies.

  But I believe, if you work at it, you can balance both.

  The conversation shifts to the football championship happening next month. It falls on my week off, and I’m looking forward to being home for it.

  Hell, I’m just looking forward to being home.

  I glance down when my phone lights up again and frown.

  “Something’s wrong.” I slide out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”

  I hurry out the front door to the sidewalk and answer.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi. I hope you’re not too busy.”

  “I was having dinner. What’s up?”

  There’s a pause.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Whoa, wait.”

  But she’s already hung up.

  I take a deep breath and dial her number.

  “I told you, I have it.”

  “What, exactly, is it?”

  “My car died again. I had to walk a mile and a half, and it’s damn cold outside, but I’ve been carrying more layers in the car, just in case.”

  “I thought it was fixed.”

  “So did I. Obviously, not.”

  “You need a new car.”

  “Right.” She scoffs. “I’ll get right on that. Listen, I just wanted to fill you in. Go eat. What are you having?”

  “Wings and beer with the guys.”

  Another pause. “Oh. Well, go enjoy your night out, then. Talk to you later.”

  She hangs up, and I want to kick something.

  Why should I feel guilty for going out for dinner after a shift? And why should she be mad about it? It’s ridiculous.

  But rather than have a long conversation about it, I pocket my phone and walk back into the restaurant to finish dinner.

  I’ll talk with Natasha later.

  I have roughly twelve hours to go before I can get in the truck and head home. I miss the kids like crazy. It seems whenever I FaceTime in the evening, they’re already in bed.

  And don’t even get me started on how much I miss Tash. I want to touch her. Kiss her. Shit, I just want to be with her.

  I’m sure that what I have is an old-fashioned case of homesickness, but it sucks ass, and I’m ready to get back home.

  One more shift.

  I can do it.

  I’ve just started going down my list of things to do when I first arrive when the chief pokes his head out of his office. “Waters, I need you for a minute.”

  “Sure, Chief.”

  I walk inside, and he shuts the door.

  “Am I fired already?”

  “No.” He laughs and shakes his head. “No, things are going well. I just needed to let you know that I need you next week. Diego is taking the week off, and I have some more training for you.”

  “So, no week off.”

  “No can do,” he says absently. “But the upside is that the overtime pay doesn’t suck, right?”

  “Sure.” I wipe my hand over my face.

  “You’ll have tomorrow off, and then I need you back here the following morning, same time as usual.”

  “Got it.” I nod and stand, then leave his office and dread the call I’m about to make.

  I dial her number and wait for just a second before Natasha answers.

  “Hey there,” she says, her voice light for the first time since I left last week. “I’m so glad you called because I’m about to go to the grocery, and I’m going to buy steaks for dinner tomorrow night. Do you want a ribeye or a sirloin?”

  “Listen, babe, about that—”

  “If you’re not in the mood for steak, I can make something else. Would you rather have lasagna? Kelsey was asking for that the other day.”

  “It’s not that. Tash, take a breath and let me get a word in, okay?”

  “Sorry.” She giggles. “I’m just excited.”

  My heart hurts. “I know. I was too. Look, the chief just pulled me into his office.”

  I fill her in on the new development.

  “Oh.”

  I hear the defeat in her voice and feel like shit.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “I know. It’s not your fault.” Her voice is hollow. “We’ll just see you next week.”

  “Well, that’s my usual week on, so it’ll likely be another two weeks.”

  There’s a pause. “Right. Of course.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be silly.” I hear the tears in her voice. “It’s your job, Sam. These things happen, especially when you’re the new guy. It makes sense they’d want you to fill in for vacations and stuff after you had to wait so long to go out there. They probably had to wait for their time off.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figure, too, but I should have thought of it. I’m an asshole for not realizing.”

  “It’s okay.” She clears her throat. “We’ve already made it one week. We just have to do this twice more and you’ll be here. No big deal.”

  It’s a big deal. I can hear in her voice that she’s full of shit.

  It’s a big fucking deal.

  “Tash—”

  “Oh, I’ve got another call coming in I have to take. Thanks for letting me know, Sam. Love you.”

  She clicks off.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 19

  ~Natasha~

  “Give me the spoon.” I hold my hand out toward Kevin, but he stares me in the eye with a frown on his adorable little face and then runs away with the utensil. “We have to go to school! Come back here.”

  He’s done with his cereal. Why is he running around this house with the spoon? Just to drive me crazy?

  Make me cry?

  Because I’ve cried more in the past month than I have since Monica died, and that’s saying quite a lot.

  “Kevin, if you don’t want me to be homicidal, you’ll put that spoon in the sink and get your damn shoes on so we can walk to school.”

  “You’re not supposed to swear,” he yells back.

  I take a deep breath.

  I don’t feel well. I’ve been chilled and nauseated all morning. I want to crawl into bed and stay under the covers.

  But I can’t. I have to walk the kids to school because my car is on the fritz, and the law says they have to attend school.

  “Let’s go,” I call back. “Now.”

  They know this voice. It’s that of a woman on the edge. And they don’t usually argue when
I’ve had to pull it out of my pocket and use it. After what feels like a damn hour, the kids are finally bundled up and ready to go.

  The walk to school really isn’t that bad. It’s about four blocks, and the weather is mild today—no wind or snow.

  If I didn’t feel like hell, I’d say it’s a nice day.

  “I think school is stupid,” Kevin grumbles.

  “Extra-stupid,” Kelsey agrees.

  They’ve slipped back into being difficult and angry like they were over the summer.

  We haven’t seen Sam in a month, and they’re acting out. They miss him.

  Hell, I miss him.

  But none of us can control his schedule.

  Of course, two five-year-olds who already have insecurities from losing their parents don’t understand.

  “Okay, be good, do you hear me? I don’t feel well today, you guys. Please just get through the day without anything crazy happening.”

  “Bye,” Kevin says and runs off, not acknowledging me.

  Kelsey waves and follows her brother.

  “That went well.” I walk over to a bench and sit down, too tired to tackle the four blocks back home. Maybe I’ll just slip away from hypothermia out here. It’s not a bad way to go.

  You just fall asleep.

  Not that I want to die. I just feel like crap.

  “Tash.”

  I glance up and see Fallon standing on the sidewalk.

  “Honey, you don’t look so good.”

  “I don’t feel so good.”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “At home.” I point in the general direction of my house. “Doesn’t run well right now.”

  “Come on, let me take you home.”

  I don’t argue. I’m not stupid enough to try to pretend that I’m okay.

  There’s absolutely nothing about me that feels okay right now.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” I rub my forehead. “I must just have a bug of some kind. I won’t breathe on you.”

  “I’ll pick the kids up from school and take them home with me.”

  “No.” I reach out and pat her arm. “I love you for offering, but you don’t have to do that. However, if you’d pick them up and bring them home, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I can do that. Just let me know if you change your mind about the rest. Honest, I don’t mind.”

  She pulls into my driveway, and I muster up the energy to thank her and walk into the house, straight back to my bed. I don’t bother to get undressed, I just climb between the sheets and huddle down.

  I’m so cold.

  And I just don’t feel well.

  I want Monica.

  I feel like I’m failing with the kids, and I’m lonely. I want to have a fucking conversation with my best friend.

  I want to tell her that her brother is a big jerk. Even though he’s not a jerk. She would get what I mean.

  And I want to ask questions about the kids. Why do certain things make Kevin so angry? Kelsey tells me I don’t tuck her in right, but I don’t know what the right way is.

  I need to ask Monica.

  And I can’t.

  I’m blubbering under the covers when I hear someone walking down the hallway.

  “I have a gun,” I call out weakly.

  “Yeah, you scare me.” Gage appears in the doorway. “You look like shit.”

  “I feel like shit. What are you doing here?”

  “Fallon called. It’s a good thing she did. You need me.”

  My bottom lip wobbles as I reach for my brother, but before he can sit next to me, I have to throw back the covers and run for the bathroom.

  Oh, God. I’m dying.

  “Whoa there,” Gage says. I can hear the water running, and suddenly, there’s a cool cloth on the back of my neck.

  “You should go,” I say and reach for toilet paper to wipe my mouth. “I’m probably contagious.”

  “Not leaving. You can’t take care of yourself, much less those kids. You’re stuck with me.”

  He helps me get all cleaned up and then back to bed.

  “I can’t do this,” I mutter as I sit up in bed. “I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

  “Do what, exactly?” My brother moves the bench from the end of the bed and sits next to me.

  “So, Sam’s been gone for a month. A long, shitty month. And it’s been really…lonely. Especially because I don’t work, so I don’t get to see other people during the day.” I take the water Gage offers and take a swig. “Well, Sam got me a day at the salon for Christmas, and I went a couple of weeks ago. It was so nice. And not nearly as hard to be in the salon without Monica as I thought it would be. I mean, it was weird at first, but the longer I was in there, the more I kind of got over it. You know?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, I was talking to Reagan, the new owner, and she told me that she could use a nail tech two days a week. I mean, that’s not bad. And I can make my own hours on those two days so I can just go right after dropping the kids off at school and make sure I’m finished when they get out.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me.”

  My eyes fill. “I thought so. But, I can’t. The kids have been so bad, Gage. I’ve had to go to the school several times a week since they went back after winter break. They’re acting out, and they’re just so angry since Sam left. It’s like it was last summer after their parents died.”

  “It doesn’t help that Sam hasn’t been able to come home like he promised he would.”

  I want to jump in and defend Sam, but I pause. “I tried to call him last night because I didn’t feel good, and I just wanted to hear his voice, you know?”

  Gage nods as I wipe my nose.

  “He answered, but I could hear noise in the background, and he was laughing with his buddies. So, I told him I’d talk to him another time.”

  “If you don’t want him going out with his friends, just tell him so.”

  “It’s not that.” I scoot down in bed, feeling woozy again. “I don’t care if he has dinner and drinks with the guys. I trust him. He’s just having a meal and letting off some steam.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  I sigh. “I just don’t hear from him much. The kids hardly ever get to talk to him because they’re in bed when he does call. Being a single parent is hard, Gage. So much harder than I thought it would be. And he’s not here. Which brings me back around to the job. With the school calling all the time, and the other things that can go wrong, how can I commit to a job?”

  “Single parents work every day, Tash.”

  “How? How do they manage it? Without Sam here to help pick up some slack, I don’t see how I can do it.”

  “You have people here to help you,” he reminds me. “A community of them. Hell, Fallon and Noah would help in a heartbeat, and you always have me.”

  “You have a life,” I say softly. “I’m sure you’ll be working soon, as well.”

  “Actually, I do have something lined up.”

  “What is it? And why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just firmed up plans yesterday. Do you know Tate Donovan?”

  I feel my eyes widen. “Of course, I do.”

  “Well, she’s determined to walk,” he says. “She wants to hire a full-time trainer to help her.”

  “You’re perfect for that,” I reply with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. “With all of your medical training in the Army, you’ll be awesome.”

  “She has a long road ahead, but I think we can get her there. The point is, I might have a job, but I can always help you. You need to take that job, if it’s what you want.”

  “I do want it.” I swallow and close my eyes. “Honestly, I need it. Sam started paying the rent about a month ago, but I went through a lot of my savings before then.”

  “Why wasn’t he paying before?”

  “I wouldn’t let him.” I shrug. “It’s my place, my name on the lease. And I didn’t k
now if he’d stay.”

  “You’re so damn stubborn,” Gage says. “Take the job. It’ll be good for your mental health.”

  Before I can answer, my phone rings.

  I groan.

  “It’s the school. Hello?”

  “Hi, Natasha, this is Callie, the school nurse. Both kids are in here, not feeling well. Kevin threw up, and Kelsey is awfully pale.”

  My eyes find Gage’s. “I think it’s going through my house. Callie, I need to have my brother pick them up. I’m sick in bed as we speak.”

  “Do we have him on the official paperwork as an authorized adult?”

  I frown. “I’m verbally telling you that I give him permission to bring them home.”

  “I’m sorry. Unless he’s on the paperwork, you’ll have to come to get them.”

  Gage swears, and I sigh.

  “Fine. I’ll be there soon.”

  I hang up and stare at my brother.

  “See? This is why I shouldn’t take the job.”

  “Bullshit. Put me on the paperwork. Add Fallon and Noah. Hell, add Aspen, too. This won’t happen again.”

  Thank God for my brother.

  It’s been two days, and I think we’re out of the woods, but they were scary.

  Kevin, Kelsey, and I piled in my bed for the sickfest, and Gage helped me keep us all clean and hydrated.

  I don’t think I could have done it without him.

  Sam is supposed to come home today, but I’m not getting my hopes up. The last time he was supposed to come home, he was just getting off shift and the chief told him he had to stay for something or other.

  So, until he pulls into the driveway, I’m not getting my hopes up at all.

  “Why do we have to go to school?” Kevin asks. “Uncle Sam is coming home today, and I want to see him.”

  “You’ll get to see him after school,” I reply. “And all evening. He’s going to be here for ten days, so there will be lots of time with him, I promise.”

  Suddenly, the front door opens, and Sam walks in, surprising all of us.

  “Uncle Sam!” the kids exclaim and run to him, flinging themselves into his arms. “You’re here!”

  “Thank goodness I’m here.” He kisses their faces and smiles at me. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hi.” I need to talk to him. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and he and I need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.