by Arlene James
He stretched his legs and folded his hands across his empty belly, searching for a logical explanation. The boy. That was it. Joey reminded him of Kaylee. Since she lived with her mother while he had only a few days with her during his off time, he felt cheated. He missed so many firsts and heard about them secondhand.
Divorce was a nightmare, especially when it wasn’t his doing. He’d taken months to sort through his emotions and to understand what happened. No affair. No sensible reason. Gina announced she was depressed and unhappy. She needed a change.
A change. The word ripped through him. Everyone needed a change once in a while, but not one that ended a marriage. He’d been a good husband...he thought. A hard worker. A loving husband and father. He asked what he’d done wrong. She said nothing.
Maybe that was it. He’d done nothing. Perhaps her life wasn’t exciting enough, while his was too exciting fighting fires and saving lives. He even rescued kittens in trees and dogs trapped in sewer pipes. Sleep swooped over him, and he rubbed his eyes. His head spun with weariness, and he needed to forget the past. She’d wanted a divorce, and his crazy forty-eight-hour shifts complicated having physical custody of Kaylee. Instead, regrettably, he settled for visitation.
He drew in air to clear his mind. Going over it again solved nothing. It was the way it was, and he’d learned to enjoy the time he had with his sweet daughter.
Devon rose, smelling the acrid coffee coming from the urn. He took a step toward the pot, but his stomach churned. He dismissed the idea. He needed food. No. He needed sleep.
“She’s ready to see you.”
His pulse skipped hearing Neely’s voice.
She shifted Joey in her arms. “I’m going to take this boy home and give him some food and then off to bed. Thanks so much for all you’ve done. You’ve been more than kind.”
“I’m glad I was there.” Somehow the words meant more to him than they should. He gazed at Joey. “And don’t worry about the house. I’ll check to make sure everything’s safe before I hit the sack.”
She nodded her thanks and gave him directions to Ashley’s room. With another nod, she pivoted, clutching Joey in her arms and heading for the exit.
Devon strode down the hall, his legs pushing him forward, eagerness in his step. Helping a neighbor, anyone, always uplifted him. But the image of her pinned beneath the trunk depleted his breath. Strange. He’d seen those scenarios many times in his career. People hurt, bleeding, dead. Why this reaction? For one thing, he needed sleep. That had to be all it was.
Copyright © 2014 by Gail Gaymer Martin
ISBN-13: 9781460324615
His Ideal Match
Copyright © 2014 by Deborah Rather
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