Hometown Hero's Redemption

by Jill Kemerer

  “I’m Wyatt’s uncle Drew, by the way. What’s your name?”

  “Hunter.”

  “Nice to meet you, Hunter.”

  The kid had already turned away and was asking Wyatt about a video game. His enthusiasm must have been contagious because soon Wyatt couldn’t stop talking about the world he was building, whatever that meant. Drew guessed it had something to do with his new video game.

  Now that Wyatt was occupied, Drew could focus on Lauren. He’d been waiting all day, wondering if their conversation Wednesday had changed her mind about him. She’d been less prickly when he’d told her about life after football, but she’d had time to process it all since then. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to be around him. Especially not when Mike had just reminded her Drew had been such a jerk before.

  He’d just have to show her he’d changed. For good. “I’m glad you came tonight.”

  “Me, too.” The low sun at her back made her hair glow.

  “I want you to know I’m not—”

  “Drew! We thought that was you!” Two attractive women squealed, prancing to their table. His stomach plummeted. Shelby Lattimer and Beth Jones. They’d been on the dance squad in high school, and he’d dated both. Not at the same time, of course.

  “Well, look who’s here.” Beth narrowed her eyes at Lauren. Beth wore painted-on dark jeans, a tiny black shirt and sky-high heels. Drew raised his eyebrows at the too-revealing outfit. “Haven’t seen you anywhere but the fitness center since you moved back, Lauren. You’re finally hitting the town, huh?”

  “Hey, Drew.” Shelby’s long brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and she twirled a section in her fingers. Her outfit, a tight red dress and stiletto boots, also left little to the imagination.

  “Beth, Shelby.” The glint in Lauren’s eyes was the only crack in her composure. “Didn’t see you at spin class Monday night.”

  “Yeah, I had a date.” Beth’s gaze flitted to Drew, and she smiled suggestively. “Just casual, though.”

  Drew almost choked at the way Lauren’s lips pursed.

  More people joined Beth and Shelby, all talking at once to Drew and Lauren. There were a lot of shoulder slaps and references to football. There were a few veiled sneers. He couldn’t make sense of most of it, just kept nodding and repeating, “Yeah, it’s good to see you,” and keeping an eye on Lauren, who handled the questions thrown her way with ease.

  The waitress arrived with hot platters of food, and the crowd dispersed. His mind tumbled with impressions. The night had just begun, and dealing with all these people from his past already exhausted him. What could Lauren possibly think about this? She probably thought he loved all the attention. High school Drew would have loved it.

  “Well, Wyatt, dig in.” Drew waved his fork at Wyatt’s plate. He craved the anonymity of the previous years, wanted nothing more than to go home, sit on the couch and watch TV the rest of the night, but tonight wasn’t about him. “Best fish you’ll ever eat.”

  “I ordered chicken tenders,” Wyatt replied in a deadpan voice. Hunter, still sitting next to him, snickered. Wyatt offered a piece of chicken to Hunter, who happily accepted it.

  Lauren lifted her Coke to the boys. “To the best chicken tenders you’ll ever eat.”

  They exchanged curious glances.

  “You’re supposed to clink your glasses with mine,” she whispered. They brightened with understanding and lifted their Cokes. “Cheers.”

  Drew sighed. Lauren was so good with Wyatt. But she’d already told him she wasn’t babysitting. This entire night hammered home why he’d been delusional. His past was messy, and he didn’t want to drag her back to those hurtful days.

  He might as well forget the whole thing. He’d find another babysitter and wouldn’t force his way into her life.

  * * *

  “Can I have some quarters?” Wyatt and Hunter stood next to Drew with their palms cupped. “You’re right. I can see the claw machine through the window.”

  Lauren wanted to pull both boys into a hug and kiss their foreheads and assure Wyatt Drew wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be right there, where Wyatt could see him. She set her napkin on her plate and watched in amusement as Drew unfolded his wallet and handed Wyatt a five-dollar bill.

  “Go up to the front desk and they’ll give you change,” Drew said. “Come back if you need anything.”

  The boys ran off. Lauren noted that Wyatt looked back three times as if he were certain Drew would vanish at any moment.

  “He’s scared for you.” Lauren turned back to Drew. “Afraid you’ll be gone like his mom and dad.”

  The stunned expression on Drew’s face cleared. “That’s crazy. I’ll never leave him.”

  “He probably thought the same about his parents.” Lauren pushed her plate away. “I think that’s why he wanted to go home earlier. He sensed the tension when you were talking to Mike.”

  “Tension is normal.” Drew shifted back in his seat. She didn’t recognize the expression in his eyes, and she was good at reading people. If she had to guess, she’d say it was regret.

  “He’s on high alert. Dealing with a lot of new developments in his life. Tension isn’t normal for him, not now, anyway.”

  “I’ll have to hide it then.” He wiped his hand down his cheek. He had the look of a man in way over his head. The actions she’d witnessed the few times they’d been together said otherwise. He was good at this—good at handling Wyatt. He just didn’t know it.

  “I didn’t mean to imply... You don’t have to hide anything.” Lauren bit her lower lip to keep from saying too much. She’d been close to a decision about babysitting, and everything she’d seen tonight—from Drew’s obvious discomfort with Mike and Tori to the kind way he’d greeted everyone who stopped by the table without encouraging them to reminisce about the good old days—showed her he’d changed.

  He’d told her football had been the only thing he’d cared about in high school. Well, his single-mindedness had shifted. The man would do anything to protect Wyatt and give him a good life.

  She would help them. Who else would take care of Wyatt when Drew was at the station?

  Beth? Shelby?

  Over her dead body. No, Drew was right. Wyatt needed someone who understood what he was going through.

  Wyatt needed her. At least until he started feeling at home here. The summer should give her plenty of time to make him comfortable in this town. Then he’d be equipped to get through his days like other children. And when Angela Duke called her back, she’d research the cheer academy. If it seemed to be way over her head, she’d teach a tumbling class and find another office job this fall.

  Lauren folded her hands and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll babysit.”

  “What?” His jaw dropped; then he closed his mouth and swallowed. “I thought you said—”

  “I changed my mind.”

  He steepled his long fingers. “I don’t know. After what you told me about getting hurt and leaving Chicago, I’m not sure it’s best for you.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want me to babysit anymore?” She had never considered she’d actually convinced him she wasn’t a good fit for Wyatt.

  “Lauren, I would like nothing more than for you to take care of Wyatt. You’re way more in touch with his emotions... I feel like a dummy compared to you.”

  Could her heart smile? Drew looked adorable when he was complimenting her and unsure of himself.

  But he wasn’t unsure of himself. He’d been born sure of himself.

  He also had this idea she was perfect, and she’d be the easy solution to making Wyatt’s life all better. She couldn’t even figure out her own. And perfect? What a laughable concept. When Drew realized she was a mess, would he send her packing?

  The purple duffel bag fla
shed in her mind.

  “Are you sure you want to?” Drew tilted his neck to the side, and his expression—so raw, so apologetic—tossed cold water on her doubts. She was being silly. They were grown-ups. And this was about Wyatt.

  “Yes.” She nodded decisively. “But only until the end of the summer. He’ll have made enough friends by then you’ll have no problem finding someplace he can stay when you’re at work. And, please, keep your expectations realistic about him. He’s not going to bounce back overnight. It might take years.”

  His face fell, but he nodded. “Fair enough. Don’t hold it against me if I badger you to continue when September comes around, though. Can you start Monday?”

  “I can.”

  “Good. Stop by tomorrow, and we’ll go over everything.”

  Nervous excitement swirled in her stomach. Or maybe it was the greasy fish. Either way, she hoped she’d made the right decision. Chicago was behind her. She couldn’t help the boys she’d left behind. But she could help Wyatt.

  She just prayed she really was what Wyatt needed. She’d never forgive herself if she let him down, too.

  Chapter Four

  Drew knocked on the fire station door Monday morning at 6:30 a.m. Boxes containing two dozen doughnuts teetered, but he tightened his hold on them. Every station he’d worked at welcomed food, especially the sweet stuff. He had a feeling he’d need every ounce of help to fit in with his new coworkers. What was the Bible passage about prophets not being accepted in their hometowns? Not a great analogy, considering he wasn’t a prophet. His soul was too tarnished to even contemplate that thought.

  “Gannon. You’re late,” Chief Reynolds barked as he let Drew in. He was in his midfifties with receding salt-and-pepper hair and a powerful upper body. He reminded Drew of a bulldog, except bulldogs were friendlier. “Follow me.”

  “Yes, sir.” Drew kept his head high and his feet moving through the corridor. He was thirty minutes early since his shift started at seven, but hey, he understood this was Rookie Mind Games 101. He’d been through it at both his previous fire stations. Each station had its own unique way of welcoming new hires, and by welcome, he meant harass, intimidate, make fun of and generally try to wean out the ones who could handle the job from the ones who couldn’t.

  He could handle the job.

  His coworkers just didn’t know it yet.

  “Listen up.” The chief stopped in the kitchen, where two men and one woman stood near the coffeemaker. “This is Drew Gannon.” He sent Drew a sideways glance without a hint of pleasure and nodded to the man in front of the stove. “Ben Santos. Gary Walters. Amanda Delassio.” He addressed the three. “Don’t bother remembering this one’s name. He won’t be around long enough for it to matter.”

  Drew shook their hands, making mental notes to keep their names straight since he didn’t recognize them.

  “Are you done lollygagging?” The chief marched ahead and disappeared through the first door on the left. Drew followed. “Check in at station dispatch. Sign-in’s over there. We keep a daily log. Think you can handle that?”

  “Yes, sir.” Drew scratched his name on the list, but the chief was already out the door.

  “Secretary is on duty eight until four Monday through Friday. Locker rooms are to your right. Classroom is up ahead. You’ll get a key code for the supply room. We don’t use radios. Every room is wired into the speaker system. I expect you to keep your ears open at all times.”

  Drew practically raced to keep up with him. The chief continued upstairs, filling him in on the workout room, living area and basic rules. They completed a brief tour of the garage, trucks and the equipment.

  “Got all that, hotshot?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re getting off easy with a six-month probation period and only because I’m trusting the letters of recommendation from your previous supervisors. Personally, I don’t see you lasting two weeks, let alone six months.” The chief circled back to his office with Drew at his heels. “Be ready at seven for assignments. And let’s make one thing clear—I’ve got no use for quitters, whiners or superstars. You’re the bottom of the barrel in my station, and don’t forget it.”

  If Drew had already been working there for a couple of years, he would have said something like, “I love you, too, Chief,” and winked at the man, but he’d learned the hard way to keep his mouth shut, ears open and attitude humble until they accepted him.

  If they accepted him...

  They would. Eventually.

  “Well, if it isn’t the NFL wannabe.” Tony Ludlow, a former classmate of Drew’s, blocked the hallway. His beefy arms were crossed over an equally muscular chest. Drew’s stomach dropped to his toes. Of all his possible coworkers, how had he ended up with Tony? They’d graduated from the same class and enjoyed a healthy competition on the football team and off, particularly with girls. Drew cringed, remembering how he’d tried to steal Tony’s prom date. It was probably too late to wish he hadn’t succeeded. What was that girl’s name, anyhow?

  “Tony.” Drew stuck his hand out, but Tony didn’t shake it. Surely almost fifteen years had been long enough to douse Tony’s anger about the whole prom thing.

  “Aren’t we fortunate? The pretty boy is back,” Tony said to the group in the kitchen. “I wouldn’t trust him near a corpse, let alone your wives or girlfriends.”

  Apparently fifteen years hadn’t dampened Tony’s fury. Great.

  “What about my husband?” Amanda said, smirking. “Should I be worried about this guy hitting on Jack?”

  Good one, Amanda. Drew had a feeling she’d be fun to work with...someday.

  “I would be, Mandy.” Tony sized Drew up. “You might as well quit now. No one’s going to hold your hand here.”

  “I’m giving him three weeks,” Ben said.

  Hey, it was a step up. The chief had given him only two weeks, so he must have impressed Ben more than he’d thought. A call came over the speakers, and everyone got to work.

  The next several hours were spent checking equipment, learning procedures, cleaning toilets, prepping gear and responding to emergencies—two 911 calls and one fire call, which turned out to be a false alarm.

  After dinner he finally had a break and managed to call Wyatt. He’d tried not to worry, but he couldn’t help wondering if Lauren and Wyatt were doing okay.

  “Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

  “Oh, hey, Uncle Drew. It was fine.” It sounded like music played in the background, but that might have been the television.

  “How’s it going with Lauren?”

  “Okay.”

  The kid was a real conversationalist. Drew tried not to sigh. “Have a lot of homework?”

  “No.”

  “What did you have for dinner?”

  “Um...” Wyatt must have pulled the phone away because Drew heard Lauren’s muffled voice say something. “Some noodles. Lingreeny.”

  “Linguine?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  Drew asked a few more questions and got monosyllabic answers. “Don’t watch too much TV.”

  “I can’t. She won’t let me. We’re listening to music. Lauren likes weird stuff.”

  “What’s weird about it?”

  “I don’t know. She called it jazz.”

  He chuckled. “Jazz, huh?”

  “Yeah. If I could figure out her phone’s pass code, I’d change it to something good.”

  “Keep your hands off her phone.”

  “Uncle Drew,” he whined.

  “I mean it. Jazz is...educational.” He grimaced, thinking of the torture the poor kid was experiencing.

  “Whatever.”

  “I love you, Wyatt.”

  “You, too, Uncle Drew.”

  They hung up.r />
  “Hey, Gannon,” Tony yelled as he entered the living room. “Locker-room floor needs mopping.”

  “Yes, sir,” Drew said softly.

  He was living the dream, all right. As much as he loved his job, he found himself eager for the shift to end. He’d forgotten how miserable the early probation period could be, and it was that much worse with Tony poisoning the rest of the crew’s impressions of him.

  It would be nice if they could see the man he’d become instead of the boy he used to be, but time would take care of that. If not, he’d have to majorly suck up and apologize to Tony.

  Who else in town needed an apology from him?

  He groaned, heading to the closet for the cleaning supplies. Maybe if he scrubbed the floor hard enough, he could erase all the damage he’d done in his teen years.

  At least he didn’t have to worry about Wyatt on top of everything else. The kid was in good hands. And if Lauren could see past his mistakes, the rest of the crew could, too. He hoped so, at least. He’d have to be patient and work at it.

  * * *

  Were frozen waffles a proper breakfast for a ten-year-old boy? Lauren plucked two out of the toaster and dropped them onto a plate. Opening the refrigerator, she scanned the shelves for fruit. A carton of orange juice stood next to a gallon of milk. Strawberries hid behind a brick of cheese. They would have to do.

  She was out of her element here. Last night had been awkward. Since Wyatt had said he didn’t have any homework, he’d fired up his video games as soon as he’d gotten home from school. Then, when she turned them off after an hour, he’d wanted to watch television shows she found entirely inappropriate. Dinner had been quiet. She’d turned on soothing music, but it hadn’t helped.

  Drew would be home in thirty minutes. Should she tell him she was having second thoughts about their arrangement?

  She rinsed and sliced a few strawberries, fanning them out across the waffles. She set the plate in front of Wyatt.

  “Here you go.” After wiping her hands on a paper towel, she checked her watch. “What time did you say the bus picks you up?”