Baby, Don't Go

by Stephanie Bond

  Under a brutal sun next to the compost bins, she struck a match, lit the corner of the page, then dropped it into the waste can and watched it burn. When the paper had been reduced to ash, she added the spent match, then carried the can back inside.

  Whew.

  She took a few moments to check her voice messages on her cell phone. As expected, Nina was thrilled with the new blog entry, which left her with mixed feelings. Her boss asked her to call her later with “Details! Details!” Alicia frowned—Nina was enjoying this assignment way too much.

  When she returned to the counter, Tony and the other busboy were pressing their faces against the window.

  “Can we take our break, Miss Alicia, and go out to see the fire truck?”

  She nodded, then looked out herself to see the big red truck positioned between two utility poles. The truck itself made her stomach roil—she’d seen enough fire engines to last a lifetime. But when Marcus came into view, her heart gave a little jump.

  He was such a handsome man, it was a treat to watch his body move. He carried himself like an athlete…and a soldier, she realized—shoulders back, head tall, eyes all-seeing. He placed a toolbox and the rolled-up banner into a bucket known as a cherry picker (she’d once been rescued in one), and climbed inside, then signaled to someone to lift him.

  Alicia couldn’t take her eyes off him. Something inside her swelled just knowing that she’d been intimate with him last night. His every movement was purposeful…and effective. When her body started to react to the vivid memories, she forced herself to look away.

  Then she spotted something that alarmed her more than the fire truck. Alicia pressed her nose against the window.

  “Mom?”

  Outside, Candace spotted her through the window and waved, then entered the diner. She stopped inside the door and set a suitcase on the floor. “Surprise!”

  22

  Alicia stared at Candace and her suitcase, disbelieving. She walked closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Mom? What is this?”

  Candace’s bright smile dimmed a bit. “I missed you, so I decided to come up for a visit. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  Alicia scrutinized her mother’s body language, knew her nervous tics. Something was wrong. She pulled Candace into a brief hug. “Yes, it’s good to see you. Have you had lunch?”

  “I’m not hungry, but I wouldn’t mind a glass of iced tea.”

  Alicia reached for the suitcase. “Let’s sit.”

  She let the waitresses know she would be on break, then shepherded her mother to a table in a far corner and retrieved a glass of tea for each of them.

  “It’s so pretty here,” Candace chattered. “It’s like a picture postcard driving in. That covered bridge is simply amazing.”

  “Yes, it is,” Alicia said patiently.

  “And it looks like you’ve settled in,” Candace said, gesturing to the diner.

  Alicia looked all around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “That’s kind of the point, Mom—I’m undercover. I wish you’d called first.”

  Candace looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry, you’re right, of course. You’re always right.”

  Alicia reached across the table to clasp her mother’s hand. “Did something happen?”

  Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I left Bo.”

  Alicia knew the drill—ask questions, but don’t offer any opinions in case her mother wound up getting back together with the guy. “Why did you leave?”

  “He’s not the man I thought he was.”

  The monogrammed panties she’d found under Bo’s truck seat came to mind, but Alicia swallowed a retort. “Can you be more specific?”

  Candace pressed her lips together. “He uses drugs.”

  Alicia winced, but wasn’t wholly surprised.

  “I had my suspicions, but this morning after he left for work, I was cleaning and I found his stash. I was so scared. You can see why I had to leave.”

  “Of course.”

  “So…I can stay with you for a while?”

  Alicia looked around again and lowered her voice. “Mom, it’s not that I don’t want you to stay, but it’s hard to pretend I’m someone I’m not if my mother is around.”

  Candace looked hurt momentarily, then brightened. “Why can’t I just be the mother of the person you’re pretending to be?”

  Alicia squinted.

  “Please, Alicia?” Candace worried her lower lip. “Just until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

  Alicia sighed. “Okay. If my boss says it’s okay, you can stay in my room at the boardinghouse for a few days.”

  Candace beamed. “Thank you! We’re going to have the best time, you’ll see.”

  Alicia had her doubts, but she gave her mother an encouraging smile.

  Candace looked down at Alicia’s wrist. “You’re not wearing your bracelet.”

  Guilt flooded her chest. “Oh…I don’t wear it when I’m working.” She’d ease her way into telling her mother she’d lost it. At the moment, Candace seemed a little fragile and Alicia didn’t want her to think she didn’t like the gift or appreciate it.

  Candace happily sipped from her tea and looked around. “I like this place—it’s so…it’s so…” She inhaled deeply, then frowned. “Smoky.”

  Alicia sniffed the air, pulling an acrid odor into her lungs. Then she realized in horror that from the kitchen area, gray smoke was billowing into the diner.

  Marcus completed fastening the Homecoming banner on one pole, then signaled to be moved to the other utility pole. He looked down at the crowd gathered to make sure no one was standing in harm’s way and noticed a white extended-cab truck with a Department of Energy insignia pulling into a spot near the diner.

  Their inspector was back.

  He glanced toward the diner and prayed they were ready.

  A tanned man with dark blond hair climbed out of the truck and waved up to Marcus. Marcus waved back to Dale Richardson, then cupped his hands and yelled that he would be down in fifteen minutes. He planned to escort the man around himself on this visit. They had too much at stake.

  Suddenly an alarm sounded, followed by another. He scanned the buildings below, but quickly narrowed the shrill noise to the diner. His pulse rocketed higher—what was going on?

  The door to the diner flew open and a clump of people poured out, followed by a cloud of gray smoke. Marcus’s vital signs went on high alert.

  “Fire!” he shouted, then pointed to the diner. “Get everyone back! Put me down!”

  As the operator lowered him at a painstakingly slow speed, he was relieved to spot Tony standing outside the diner, along with the other busboy. He also located Teri and Gina and Sheila.

  But he didn’t see Alicia.

  He started to panic because it seemed likely that she was behind the blaze, and maybe this time she’d hurt herself—or worse. His mind spun worst-case scenarios of her working at the grill and catching her apron on fire, or spilling a container of hot grease on herself.

  A handful of volunteer firefighters he’d trained had been standing next to the truck. Some men had mobilized to deploy a hose and were attaching it to a hydrant. Others were pulling on gear in preparation for going inside.

  “Hurry up!” he shouted to the operator.

  The cherry picker finally settled back into its base. Marcus swung himself over the edge and hit the ground running. He didn’t stop to put on gear, just rushed past people, directing them to get back.

  “Is anyone still in there?” he asked a man who had just exited the diner.

  The man was coughing uncontrollably, but nodded.

  “My daughter!” a woman cried. “My daughter Alicia is still in there!”

  Marcus didn’t recognize her. “Alicia Waters?”

  “No… Yes!” the woman said, her eyes huge. “She told me to leave, that she was going to try to put out the fire with an extinguisher.”

  He flashed back to the “fire safety” lesson he�
��d given her. Marcus set his jaw. Foolish woman. He waved to his volunteer crew and shouted directions. One of the men gave him his own gear, and Marcus led the way inside.

  The interior of the dining room was thick with smoke, but Marcus knew from experience that smoke could be more dangerous than flame. A blaze burned at the doorway to the kitchen. The lights were out. Marcus passed his flashlight over the floor in case she’d fallen or had passed out, but he didn’t see her.

  “Alicia!”

  He heard something and shouted her name again.

  “I’m in the back! Help me!”

  He gave directions to his men to extinguish the blaze blocking the way to the kitchen, but after three attempts, they threw up their hands. “There’s no water getting to the hose!”

  Adrenaline fueled him forward. He ran through the blaze to find Alicia lying flat on the floor next to a spent fire extinguisher. Relief flooded his limbs. He helped her to stand, then shouted, “Stay low and cover your mouth.” Shielding her with his equipment, he led her back through the blaze and out the back door.

  “Is anyone else inside?” he asked her when they were clear of the building.

  She coughed into her hands, but shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but her brown eyes were wide. “Thank you, Marcus.”

  He couldn’t speak, he was so unnerved from imagining what could’ve happened. Needing to touch her, he clasped her by her upper arm and walked her around to the front of the diner. There he handed Alicia off to Dr. Cross, who was standing by with a gurney. Marcus saw that Porter had arrived and was working on the hydrant. By the time he made his way back inside, the water was flowing. His crew made short work of the blaze in the kitchen that was being fed by the large bin of recyclable paper sitting near the back door.

  When it was over, the fire damage was minimal…but it would take a while to clean up the water and smoke damage.

  Marcus returned to where Alicia was sitting on the gurney, begrudgingly letting Dr. Cross listen to her lungs. The women who’d said she was Alicia’s mother stood nearby, hovering.

  “How is she, doc?” Marcus asked, fighting the urge to put his arms around her. Her face and arms were smudged. Her apron was singed.

  “Her lungs sound clear,” Dr. Cross said in his crisp British accent. “I think she’ll be fine.”

  “I’m right here,” Alicia said, then eased herself off the gurney. “And I am fine.”

  “What happened?” Marcus asked her. Now that he knew no one was injured, his mind was starting to process all the ramifications of the fire, not the least of which included the fact that the D.O.E. rep’s inspection would be delayed—at best.

  She bit her lip. “It was my fault.”

  Anger sparked in his stomach. “How?”

  “I was burning paper earlier, and I thought the fire was out…but it must’ve smoldered. I’m so sorry, Marcus.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it,” he bit out. “Besides the fact that someone could’ve been hurt, the D.O.E. rep just arrived to do the inspection.”

  Her face paled beneath the smudges of ash. “What’s going to happen?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” He turned and strode away before he said something worse. He was mad at Alicia for being so careless, and mad at himself for being so concerned about her welfare.

  He spotted Dale Richardson standing in the crowd and made his way over to him. Marcus shook the man’s hand, but despite Dale’s friendly greeting, his expression did not look promising.

  “I don’t suppose we could reschedule the inspection,” Marcus asked with as much good humor as he could muster.

  Richardson gave him a tight smile. “I need to talk to you and your brothers.”

  Marcus didn’t like his tone. He rounded up Porter and Kendall and the four of them walked away from the crowd.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Richardson said.

  Kendall held up his hand. “Hold on, Dale.” Kendall knew Richardson better because the man and Amy were acquainted. “I know the diner looks bad now, but come on, we’ve made some giant strides since the last time you were here. We’ll meet that deadline in six months, if you can give us some leeway on today’s inspection.”

  Dale’s mouth tightened. “I am giving you leeway on today’s inspection—the fact that the hydrant wasn’t delivering water would normally be enough to sink you on the emergency response section.”

  The brothers acknowledged his concession.

  “And I know you guys have been busting your asses to make things happen. I have an electronic alert set up, so I know when anything having to do with Sweetness hits the internet. And it’s all been good.”

  “So what’s the bad news?” Marcus pressed.

  Dale sighed. “Because of budget cuts, a lot of federal programs have been abandoned.”

  Marcus’s heartbeat sped up. “Dale, don’t do this.”

  “I was able to convince my superiors to keep your project on the books,” Dale said hurriedly.

  Marcus exhaled.

  “But,” the man continued, “your deadline has been moved up. Instead of having six months to meet the requirements of the grant, you only have one.”

  “What?” Kendall roared.

  “That’s impossible,” Porter said. “Will the requirements be relaxed?”

  Richardson shook his head. “No.”

  “Wait,” Porter said. “If the program were cancelled outright, would the land revert to us?”

  “No,” Kendall said, his voice bitter. “It was the failsafe clause the government put in the contract. If the program is cancelled, ownership reverts to the entity that owned the land prior to the agreement—namely, the federal government.”

  “Unfortunately, he’s right,” Dale said.

  The bleak truth hit Marcus—they were being set up to fail. Instead of paying out what was left of the hefty grant to give the town financial footing, the government would assume ownership of the town, or, more likely, contract out ownership to a private company that would log the area and strip it of other natural resources, then retreat.

  Leaving the residents high and dry.

  And making a mockery of the Greenest Place on Earth.

  He saw the truth of his theories reflected in Richardson’s face. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands.”

  Marcus felt their gazes swing toward him. He knew his brothers expected him to spout words of guidance and encouragement, to assure Richardson they could pull off a miracle, with time to spare. But he was feeling worn down, and at his breaking point. He was tired of being tired, tired of squabbling residents and problematic business partners, tired of sleeping in a bunkhouse with two hundred and fifty other men, tired of putting everyone else’s needs and wants before his own.

  “Marcus, what are you thinking?” Richardson finally ventured.

  “I’m thinking,” Marcus announced, “that I’m going fishing.” Then he turned around and walked away.

  23

  Alicia hugged herself to stave off the uncontrollable trembling that had set in. All the employees and countless customers had overheard Marcus’s reproach. What had she done? From day one, the man had drilled into her the fact that the success of the town hinged on the next inspection of the diner, and all he’d asked was that things run smoothly for the few hours the inspector would be there. Instead she had single-handedly torpedoed the town’s efforts by setting a fire in the waste can that she’d thought had burned out, but had apparently rekindled.

  Molly McIntyre walked up to her, her expression forlorn. “I blame myself for this. Marcus only hired you to spite me. He thought he could train anyone off the street to run the diner. I wanted to see him taken down a notch, but I didn’t want this to happen.” Tears swam in the woman’s eyes. “Excuse me,” she said brusquely, then she marched off, sniffling.

  Alicia felt close to tears herself. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.

&n
bsp; Candace came up and squeezed her in an embrace. “I was so frightened. Are you all right?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Mom, I’ve ruined everything.”

  “That’s not possible,” Candace soothed.

  “I was responsible for the fire. Someone could’ve been killed or injured.”

  “But they weren’t. And look.” Candace swept her arm toward the building. “The diner is still standing. With a little soap and muscle, it’ll be good as new. I’ll help you.”

  “So will I,” offered Tony, who stood nearby.

  “Me, too,” the other busboy piped up.

  “Count me in,” the waitresses chorused.

  Clancey King emerged from the crowd. “I don’t have anything else to do the rest of the day.”

  Alicia’s heart swelled as more and more people volunteered to help clean the diner. It wouldn’t undo the damage she’d caused, but at least they could get it back up and running. It might help to assuage the guilt niggling at her…for using the people of Sweetness to advance her career.

  Marcus stooped to pick up a flat rock, then sent it sailing across a deep pool of water in Timber Creek, watching it skip across the top, then disappear, then reappear, then disappear and reappear twice again before sinking.

  Just the way his father had taught him. How many rocks had he sent skipping across the water over the years? Hundreds? Thousands?

  How he loved this creek. There had been so many days when he was in Bosnia or Iraq or a half dozen other desolate, dusty war-torn areas when he had dreamt he was back in Sweetness, taking a dip in its cool waters.

  He tilted his head back and shielded his eyes from the sun. The temperature and the humidity both hovered in the mid-nineties. His shirt was plastered to his back. He looked at his soot-covered arms and realized his face probably looked much the same.

  On impulse, Marcus leaned over and removed his work boots and socks, then his shirt and jeans. Wearing only his boxers, he waded into the crisp water and made a shallow dive before coming up and rolling to his back. He sighed in relief as the bracing water washed away the grime and, temporarily, his cares.