by Amy Knupp
“I can’t live with that,” she said. “I won’t.”
“Okay.” Who could blame her? If their roles were reversed, he would have hit the road long ago.
“I’ve tried to help you get past this, to see that you can build a good life, but as long as you sit there and refuse to move on, you’re not going to be happy, Penn.”
He clenched his jaw so tight his teeth nearly cracked. “You can’t be my savior, Nadia. You can’t begin to know what I’m going through, what it’s like to lose everything—”
“No,” she yelled. “I can’t. Not when you’re too scared to even talk about it.”
“Who said I was scared?”
“I’ve done everything I can think of,” she went on, ignoring him. “All you’ve done is sit there and be angry. You can do that all you want, but you’re not taking me down with you.”
Again, she stared at him as if she expected him to deny her accusations. He didn’t.
“I’m done, Penn. Have a nice life.”
She pivoted and walked out. The door slammed after her and the contrast of the silence was deafening.
Penn stood there, stunned, like a bird that had flown into a window. Except unlike the bird, he was pissed off to no end at the window.
He stormed to his room and dug out a duffel bag from his closet.
To hell with Nadia. She could be done all she wanted. He was out of here.
He sent his sister a text.
Flying out with you tomorrow. Will meet you at the airport.
Without waiting around for a reply, he stuffed what he’d need for the next week in his bag. He had no idea if Zoe and Cooper planned to come home tonight, but he didn’t want to be here if they did. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.
When his bag was packed, he switched off the light in the hallway, grabbed his keys from the kitchen and went out to his Jeep, paying no heed to the fact that his doctor hadn’t approved driving yet. It was close enough.
He got behind the wheel and headed to the mainland, relishing the thought of spending the night alone in the airport.
* * *
IN TIMES OF UPSET, Nadia had always turned to work.
Tonight was no different. She left Penn’s and drove directly to the hotel, telling herself she needed to make sure the reception had been wrapped up properly. When she reached the ballroom the only sign of the party that had ended just an hour ago was the custodial staff members cleaning the floors. Nadia ducked out of the doorway before they could spot her, acknowledging she wasn’t up for cheery small talk, and that was exactly what the hotel’s employees had come to expect from her.
On autopilot, she walked toward her office, taking the least populated route. When she got there, she did something she rarely did—she closed her door. Sat down at her desk and booted her laptop. Without thought, she clicked on the events and marketing budget master file.
The numbers blurred. The words meant nothing. When a tear dropped onto the keyboard, she shut the file with a shaky inhale.
She picked up the layout proof copy of the new sales brochure from her in-box and tried to check it for errors.
This was not working. She couldn’t manage to submerge herself in anything to do with her job.
Rubbing a hand over her tear-dampened face, she opened her email program and typed in her mom’s address.
Mom, Not coming into work on Sunday. Talk to you soon. Love, N.
What she was doing Sunday, she had no idea, but it didn’t include the hotel, and it didn’t include Penn. It might not even include getting out of bed.
Still wearing the red dress and heels, she went to her hotel room, ensured the Do Not Disturb sign was in place and shut herself in.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“IF YOU’RE GOING to waste yet another night of your life in front of the television, you should at least turn it on.” Zoe sauntered into the family room of the Griffin home carrying a section of the newspaper and a mug of hot tea. She set both on the coffee table and curled up on the couch.
“Hadn’t gotten around to it yet,” Penn said. “What am I missing?” Not that he cared. He wasn’t a big TV person, beyond sports shows. And yet, as Zoe said, he’d pissed away hours in front of it every day since he’d been in Boulder. In this very chair. A straight-back, cushioned one from the dining room table, of course.
“There’s always a high quality reality show on somewhere.” She picked up her tea and stirred it, the rhythmic clink of the spoon against the ceramic mug somehow soothing. “Thanks for cooking again. Mom and I may not let you leave. You’re spoiling us.”
“You’ve been spoiled since the day you were born,” he said with a ghost of a smile. “The flank steak came out pretty decent, didn’t it?”
“Everything you’ve made since you’ve been here has been ‘pretty decent.’ You’re showing me up, you know. If I didn’t get to eat what you cooked, I’d kind of hate you.”
“Eh, you kind of hate me, anyway.”
She sipped tea from her spoon, then put the mug back on the table. “I kind of hate the way you’re basically drifting through your days, now that you mention it.”
Penn held his cell phone in his hand, even though the screen had gone to sleep a few minutes ago. Though he had no reason to think Nadia would contact him, he’d kept his phone with him at all times as if it was a link to home. To her. Just in case.
Not surprisingly, in the eight days he’d been in Colorado, he hadn’t heard a word from her.
“I hate it, too,” he admitted uncomfortably. “But I don’t know what to do about it.”
Zoe leaned forward, picked up the newspaper she’d brought in and tossed it on his lap, opened to a specific page. “I thought you might want to read that story.”
Biting down on the annoyance that had become so second nature to him, he picked up the newspaper and scanned the headlines, trying to guess which one she thought was going to change his life.
He didn’t have to ask.
Local Firefighter Killed in Collapse.
Damn.
Penn forgot his sister was in the room as he read every word of the article. He could see the described situation in his head, imagine the guy going down when the apartment roof, weakened by fire, fell in.
When he finished reading, he studied the photo of the firefighter. He looked like the average twentysomething guy. He could be any one of Penn’s brothers in the San Amaro Island Fire Department. Penn was choked up as if he was.
He noted the time and location of the funeral services and tossed the newspaper to the table. Zoe was absently stirring her tea again, the sound joining the ticking of the handcrafted wooden clock that’d hung on the wall even when Penn had lived here.
“You’re trying to tell me I’m better off than him,” Penn said.
“I know better than to try to tell you anything. I just thought you’d want to read it.”
He nodded slowly, feeling as if he’d lost a friend or a brother, even though he didn’t know the guy from Adam. “Thanks.” When a couple more minutes had passed, he acknowledged, “I am lucky. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“What do you want to do? Besides firefighting, of course.”
“I got this email today,” Penn said sadly, picking up his phone again. “From the arson investigator in San Amaro.” He felt Zoe studying him, though he didn’t look at her. “I shadowed him on part of an investigation a couple of weeks ago.”
“That sounds interesting,” Zoe said carefully.
“He forwarded me a letter from the mother of the victim in that fire. She’d written to him to thank him for doing his job so well and for solving the crime. Apparently they’ve got a guy in custody—the victim’s ex-boyfriend—and though he hasn’t gone to trial yet, the evidence is pretty compelling. She said she was able to sleep better knowing her daughter’s murderer was going to pay for what he did. She said it had brought peace during the most horrible time of her life.”
“He sent it t
o you because you were in on the investigation?”
“Guess so. I helped him find some of the evidence.”
His sister didn’t respond so he glanced at her. She was staring at him with that thoughtful, know-it-all look, nodding her head.
“Whatever it is, say it,” Penn said.
“You’re interested in that kind of job, aren’t you?”
Penn stood and expelled a loud breath. “I don’t know. It’d keep me in the same line of work, or close to it. Beats the hell out of anything else I’ve thought of, but…”
“But what?”
He shook his head as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “It’d be starting over from scratch. I don’t know if I have it in me to be the new guy again. To spend months in classes, learning a new career. Studying, taking tests, trying to get back into that groove after all these years.” It’d been tough enough to do the school part of firefighter preparation, not because he was dumb but because he and sitting at a desk didn’t go together very well.
“What’s your alternative?” Zoe asked. “You either start over with something new or…what?”
“There are jobs out there that don’t require schooling. Food service, bartending, furniture-selling.” Just listing them made him feel sick. But then so did the thought of going back to school.
“That’s exactly it. Those are jobs, Penn. This would be a career. It’s scary, but I guess you have to decide which one you want.”
“Guess so,” he muttered.
He wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but he was scared as hell of the future.
If someone had told him before his injury that fear would have him paralyzed, he likely would’ve either laughed at them or punched them.
He wouldn’t have liked it then, and he sure as hell didn’t like it now, but he had to figure out how to get over it.
One thing was certain. After sitting in his mom’s house for eight days straight, he was tired of being stagnant. Even more tired of feeling sorry for himself. And unwilling to accept that fear was getting the best of him.
* * *
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TWO are coming with me to this.” Nell Griffin squeezed Penn’s forearm nervously as they walked into the conference center where she would be honored this evening.
“Why wouldn’t we, Mom?” Zoe said. “We’re not complete heathen offspring.”
“Most days,” Penn added.
“It’s just…for you two to take time out of your busy lives—and to dress up so nicely— Thank you.”
“I don’t wear a suit for just anybody. As for a busy life…my most pressing commitments are therapy and dinner.”
“For now,” his sister said. She leaned forward to shoot him a meaningful look but he pretended he didn’t notice.
“Explain to me what you’re getting an award for tonight?” Penn asked.
“I’ve been doing pro bono work for this organization to get legislation passed to protect ranch land. It’s been a two-year project and we finally succeeded. A lot of people’s well-beings were tied up with it.”
“That’s great, Mom. I had no idea you’ve been working on anything like that.”
“That’ll teach you to call your mother more often.” She smirked at him as they entered the hall.
A half an hour later, Penn suspected he had a semi-permanent look of shock on his face. The first part of the gathering offered an opportunity for people to roam around the room to mingle and network. Penn had assumed his mom would hurry off to talk to everyone she knew in the room—which turned out to be almost all of them—and leave him and Zoe to their own devices. Instead, Nell had dragged them around with her. She’d always been proud of Zoe for her academic achievements and her doctorate studies and never made a secret of it. This time, she also gushed over Penn. She’d proudly introduced him as her son, the firefighter.
That was a first.
After the first couple of times, Penn had mentioned to her in private that he wasn’t a firefighter anymore. She’d said something along the lines of “once a firefighter, always a firefighter, at least in spirit.” He’d been about to argue but Zoe had stopped him. Shushed him, as a matter of fact, the way only a sister could do.
He’d been mulling his mom’s statement ever since, in between smiling, shaking hands and being honest-to-God touched by his mom’s undeniable pride.
Dinner had been served and the waitstaff was currently distributing raspberry cheesecake and chocolate layer cake while the organization’s president addressed the group. Penn tuned out most of it, caught up in his own thoughts, until the guy started introducing Nell.
As he listened to the accolades, Penn began to view his mom in a different light. She was well respected, which he’d always known, but these people seemed to genuinely love her for what she’d worked with them to accomplish.
The president finally invited her up to the stage to receive her award. Penn was moved by the standing ovation she received, but it turned out that had nothing on her acceptance speech.
She went on and on, thanking countless people, telling enough amusing anecdotes about them to keep it interesting even though he didn’t know any of them. She thanked Zoe for being an understanding “roommate” and for leaving meals in the fridge for her when she’d worked late into the evenings on the project.
“And last but not least…” Nell paused and breathed in, seeming a little nervous. “Thank you to my son, Penn. I hadn’t expected him to be here this evening when I made my notes, but he’s visiting from Texas and conspired with my daughter to surprise me. So forgive me if I stumble a little.”
Again, she stopped and collected herself. Penn shot a questioning look at Zoe, who shrugged.
“I owe Penn my greatest thanks because, well, he inspires me.”
Penn’s eyes widened.
“He and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, and because of that, he may be surprised to hear all this.” She sought him out then, taking a moment to connect with him from the stage and smiling almost shyly.
“Penn is a firefighter. He was recently injured and won’t be able to return to his career, but that’s beside the point. Years ago, Penn was on the road to becoming another academically inclined college student. Mind you, he wasn’t given a whole lot of choice about this, thanks to his high-strung mother.” She paused while people chuckled. “So I can only imagine his struggle when he realized he’d much rather become a firefighter.
“When he eventually broke the news to me, I can admit, I didn’t exactly take it well.”
Penn laughed at the understatement along with the other two hundred people in the banquet hall.
“I refused to help him financially because, really, throwing away a quality education to learn how to run into burning buildings?” She waved her hand as if the idea was crazy.
“He did it all himself. Put himself through community college and became a firefighter. It couldn’t have been easy, but that was never his concern. His priority was being true to himself. Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it?”
There were nods and murmured agreements throughout the room.
“But Penn, he never wavered. Even when I was so ticked off I couldn’t see straight, I had to admit, my boy had courage.”
Penn cleared his throat as quietly as possible, her words getting him with a capital G.
“I have a good job, but I wouldn’t say it’s doing what I burn to do. This…” She gestured around to the large group of people. “This is what I burn to do. And I don’t know if I ever would have had the guts to do it if I hadn’t watched my son follow his own path.”
The audience broke out in applause and a lump swelled in Penn’s throat. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Zoe’s eyes at that moment because he was afraid he’d do something stupid, like tear up, if he did.
“So thank you, Penn Griffin, for being someone who goes after what’s important to him, who has courage in freaking spades and is the bravest man I’ve ever known. And thank you all for this award. It
means more to me than I can say.”
Again, the audience stood and continued clapping as she smiled at them for several seconds and then made her way down the stairs to her table. She wrapped her arms around Penn, stood on her toes and kissed him.
“I don’t know what to say besides thanks, Mom,” he said into her ear.
She smiled and dabbed at one of her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. “I meant every word I said.”
As they took their seats again, the president went back on stage to go through some business, but Penn tuned it out. His mom’s words had hit him like nothing had since the career-ending chunk of roof in the hurricane. Since then, he hadn’t thought of himself as being brave or courageous or anything positive.
But he was the same guy inside. His fall in the storm may have taken some of his physical ability away but it didn’t have to take any of the other stuff. Not unless he let it.
He absolutely wouldn’t let it.
Ever since his conversation with Zoe the other night, he’d done a lot of thinking. Had started making some decisions. It was time, beyond time, to take action. Time to be the person his mom thought he was—the person he knew he was—and work on building a future.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
PENN NEVER WOULD HAVE believed that something as cliché as returning to his roots would help him get his head screwed back on.
Well, semi-screwed back on, anyway.
He leaned his forehead against the airplane window, watching for the lights of Corpus Christi to come into sight. It’d been nearly three weeks since he’d flown out of Texas, but he felt a lifetime away from the self-pity he’d been stuck in when he’d driven his Jeep to the airport that Sunday.
There was a saying, something about always needing your mom, even when you were half a foot taller than her and had been on your own for a dozen years. Or if there wasn’t, there should be. Before this trip he would have claimed he was the exception to that rule, but now he could acknowledge that maybe there was some truth in it.
His mom’s speech, along with attending the firefighter’s funeral, had provided the kick in the butt he’d needed.
