Fletcher looked around for Nick. It was their turn to hand out the blankets, teddy bears, and books to the kids who wouldn’t be sleeping in their own homes tonight. When he’d made a lap of the crowded street and still not seen Nick, he called him over the headset.
“Baxter? You ready to play Santa?” Fletcher joked, holding a pile of soft, clean fleece blankets.
A hand touched his shoulder, and Fletcher turned, expecting Nick to take half of the blankets out of his hands. Instead, it was the chief.
He shook his head.
Fletcher’s mind could not grasp what the chief might be trying to say to him.
He shook his head back at the chief. “What?” he said.
“Baxter,” was all the chief said.
No. Impossible. Nick couldn’t be hurt. “He’s down?” Fletcher asked. “He’s the one I carried out?” Fletcher felt gratitude both that he’d been able to help and that he hadn’t known it was Nick. He might not have been able to get back into the fight the same way had he been worried about his friend.
A nod. Chief Grantham held out his hands for Fletcher to pass over the blankets, but Fletcher held on to them. He walked over to a family huddled on the sidewalk in front of what used to be their home. They were covered in a mismatched blend of outsized coats that must have come from neighbors’ homes, and one little guy was wrapped in a beach towel.
Fletcher knelt beside the children, telling them the lines that he knew he must say; that he was so glad they were able to get safely out of the house, that they did the right thing to get away from the fire and stay away, that as long as they had each other, they’d be fine again soon.
As he handed a blanket to the towel-wrapped little guy, the kid threw his arms around Fletcher’s neck and hugged him tight. Fletcher set the rest of the pile on the sidewalk and wrapped the boy in his arms. As the kid repeated “thank you for saving us,” over and over, Fletcher wished he could tell the little guy what he was thinking.
I’m glad I could save you, but who is going to save my friend?
After the cleanup, Fletcher drove the engine back to the station, where he found his mom and Savanna pacing around a table full of pies.
He went to them first, before he changed and showered, before he did any of the required preparation to the engine or equipment. The look of relief on his mom’s face gave him another pang of guilt that his job was so hard on her, but Savanna’s expression of fear was new to him. This was not the look of a dispatcher or a receptionist. This was the face of a girlfriend who could not find her guy.
“Where’s Nick?” she asked, all the Savanna-like look of contempt and annoyance gone from her face. She was complete fear.
He wanted to break the news to her gently, but he didn’t want to waste any time. “He took a pretty bad hit. Knocked him out, but I’m sure he’s going to be fine. They’ve taken him to the hospital. Want to ride over with me?” Fletcher asked, and her utter relief at not needing to think about navigating a car was palpable.
“Give me two minutes,” Fletcher said, and he turned to tell his mom he needed to go.
He didn’t have to say anything. She knew.
“Call me and let me know how he is,” Rose said. “I’ll have Dave drive me home when things calm down.”
“I’m sorry about today. You made a great dinner.” Fletcher tried to smile at her.
“Go. Call me later. I’m fine.”
Rose Gates was as tough and strong as any man on this fire squad.
Savanna stepped into the ladies’ room before joining Fletcher in his truck, so he took a minute to call after his mom to send him Hadley’s number—the one he’d deleted from his phone when they’d broken up. As soon as he had it, he sent her a text.
It’s Fletch. Are you done with your meal yet? I could use your help.
She didn’t respond, so he figured he knew the answer.
She was probably enjoying a nice, pleasant, emergency-free dinner with her family. But she would want to know about Nick, and more especially that Savanna could use her company.
When you finish, Nick got hurt on a call and is in the ER at Mercy. Savanna and I are heading to the waiting room.
It felt like too much. Like hitting her too hard with something difficult. He deleted the words and tried again.
Call me please.
If that was all she saw, it wouldn’t feel like a big enough deal. Maybe she wouldn’t call at all.
He deleted again.
I need you.
Delete, delete, delete.
He saw Savanna walking toward the truck.
Savanna needs you.
That was all he could say. He couldn’t tell her Nick got hurt, at least not until he could tell her Nick would be fine. And despite what he’d told Savanna, until a doctor said so, Fletcher had no way of knowing Nick would be fine; he had no idea what condition Nick was in right now.
All he really knew was that they would all feel better if Hadley were with them.
Chapter 16
Hadley’s jaw ached from clenching it so hard.
This was the worst idea she’d ever had, including the time she jumped from the Handy’s barn roof into a swimming pool.
Worst. Idea. Ever.
Rose had helped her set up one of the refurbished dining tables in the game room at the back of the store. With cloths and placemats and napkins that all coordinated with the fresh-cut flowers they’d bought, the room glowed with warm light.
It was a Thanksgiving scene worthy of Pinterest. Or Rockwell.
Until her family walked in.
They had to wander through the whole shop to get to the game room, which had seemed like a welcoming and delightful opportunity in Hadley’s mind. She was excited to have them see every corner, every room, every section. When she moved through the space, she felt animated, passionate, full of life. That was not at all how the store affected her family. Somehow everything they saw deserved a comment. Her dad managed a “that’s cute” once or twice, but everything her mother saw absolutely required a criticism.
Those shelves look like they’re ready to fall over.
People buy this? Well, not this one, obviously.
That wall is crooked. Not the things on the wall. The actual wall.
It smells like mold in here.
You’re not actually selling any of those, are you?
These light fixtures can’t be up to code. You better talk to your insurance guy.
Did you want to go home and change before we eat?
Shae smiled a lot but didn’t contradict anything anyone else said.
And it didn’t get better from there.
Hadley was exhausted before she even uncovered the dishes of food.
And then.
Are these gluten-free?
I thought you’d have a date with you.
Is there dairy in these potatoes?
Has that turkey been frozen?
Are these cranberries organic?
Her mother ended up with three crackers, a spoon full of organic cranberries, and a glass of wine.
Hadley went straight for pie.
Shae tried to talk about things in a casual way, such as her life in New York as opposed to life in Greensburg, but Shae’s experience these days was so far outside Hadley’s world that they could hardly understand each other. Her dad smiled at her as though he could tell this whole evening felt like torture, and he made small talk about his work. Unfortunately, when you’re running a multinational cell phone operation, your talk is not particularly small. After dropping the names of three celebrity spokesmen, the New Zealand national champion rugby team, and the Prince of Jordan’s nephew, who were all endorsing the newest version of his phone, he stopped trying to connect with Hadley on a business level.
She kept eating pie and wishing the clock forward.
Sometime in the near future, Rose was going to ask her how everyone had liked dinner. She knew exactly what she would say: the pie was amazing. Definitely the best p
art of the gathering.
Hadley didn’t obsess over whether her sister and her parents were aware that what they said was insulting. Maybe not. Probably not. They simply lived in a different world, a world they’d worked hard to belong to. They’d made the kinds of changes to allow them to fit into the City now; they were no longer the small-town people they had once been. The chrome and glass Manhattan tech world had become their home. Here, now, they were out of their element, and therefore not at their best. She got it intellectually, and she recognized that she’d arrive at that same understanding emotionally sooner or much, much later, but likely not before they returned to New York and left her here in her tilting, shabby, ramshackle little store.
As soon as she could say it without seeming rude, Hadley asked if they’d like her to give them a ride to the bed and breakfast, or if they wanted to call a car. The look on her mother’s face showed clearly how distasteful either of the options sounded.
“Or we could walk,” Hadley said. “It’s a few blocks, but if your coats are warm, it might be fun for you to see how Greensburg has changed.”
Both her parents and Shae jumped at that. Hadley was relieved. Easy conversation with nothing personal at stake. Criticism of the city planner wasn’t going to add any anxiety to Hadley’s already fraught day.
In her hurry to get her family out of her shop, she left her phone inside. She realized it soon after they started walking. But it was a holiday. Who was going to call her?
They walked down the sidewalk in front of the hardware store that had new display windows, the guitar shop that had been there since before her parents were born, and the tiny throwback bodega that Shae said reminded her of the Upper East Side. All the shops advertised Black Friday hours that started soon.
None of them asked her what her Black Friday strategy was, and she felt grateful. Even in Greensburg, “treat it like a normal workday” was probably counter-intuitive. But she’d researched and planned and felt it all out, and she didn’t feel great about laying on the pressure. Her customers would come when they were ready and buy what they wanted without her demanding that they do it in the middle of the night on a holiday weekend.
When the Booth family left the bookshop, temperatures were falling. Zipped into her parka, Hadley felt her shoulders climbing up by her ears. She didn’t think that was all weather-related. As the evening grew colder, they walked faster, and Hadley forced herself to loosen up. The hardest part was over, and she knew that within half an hour she’d be back in her shop, alone and comfortable. Even if her parents invited her to come into the hotel for a drink, she had a built-in excuse to get back: She needed another piece of pie.
Okay, she wouldn’t tell them that. But someone would have to clean up all the food that hadn’t been eaten.
She stared up at the movie theater where she and Fletcher had kissed through more than one movie. She wondered if he was still eating or if they’d had a call. As the Booths walked along the river parkway and looked through the leafless trees at the lights on the other side, Hadley thanked her family for making the trip.
“I know it’s a huge sacrifice, and I appreciate it.”
“It’s good to see that you’re well,” Shae said, carefully not mentioning either Hadley’s job or her relationship status.
At the door of the Bed and Breakfast, Hadley gave her sister a squeeze. “Keep moving and shaking the world,” Hadley whispered to Shae.
“I will. You too.”
She didn’t need to respond to that. Her sister meant well.
“I love you, Bug,” her dad said.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.”
Her mom leaned in for a kiss on the cheek, and Hadley wrapped her arms around her mom’s thin shoulders. “I’m glad you came,” she said.
Even if it wasn’t exactly true this minute, she could see how it would be true later. When the prickly feeling of judgment wore off. Like in three or four years.
“I’ll see you in the morning for crème brulee French toast,” Hadley said. “It’s full of gluten and dairy and calories and fat, and I hear it’s absolutely worth it. Good night.”
She did not turn and run back to the store as soon as they were inside the building. She didn’t run away at all. She walked through the dark streets with her eyes on the road and her head on her shoulders. Survival defined success, and she had survived. She stopped by her apartment and picked up Edison, because she could always use the company and he could certainly use the exercise.
As they walked to the shop, Hadley told Edison all the good parts of the evening. She didn’t want to poison his mind against her family. Most of her comments were about pie.
“They tried,” she told him. “And we reward trying, don’t we?”
Edison turned and licked Hadley’s arm.
“I should leave you out here,” she said as they arrived at the shop. “But I think I might be in there a while cleaning up, and you might do something unsubtle on the sidewalk.” She turned her key in the lock. “Come on, but please behave yourself.”
She didn’t expect his behavior to be any different tonight than it was any other time, but again, rewards for trying.
When they made their way to the back of the shop, Edison’s nose twitched, and he let out a single bark.
“You want some turkey? I hear it was pretty good.” She held her hand out. “Sit,” she commanded. Edison slurped at her hand. “Sit,” she said again. He walked in a circle, knocking into three different shelf units. “Good try,” she said, and pulled a slice of turkey off the serving platter. She took a bite before handing it over to him, and he inhaled the rest.
She kept tossing him slices of turkey while she repackaged all the food and placed it back in the bags she’d carried it over in. Loading it all into the car only took one trip, and she opened the front door for Edison. He always got to ride shotgun.
“Oh, my phone,” she said, calling Edison to get back out of the car. “Sorry to confuse you, buddy, but I’m not leaving you alone in the car. That’s a story that cannot end well.” She let the two of them back into the shop, walking as quickly as Edison’s bulk allowed through the maze of shelves and rooms. In the game room, she told Edison to sit, which he ignored, and grabbed her phone off the shelf where she’d left it before serving dinner.
Glancing at the screen, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise.
There were a dozen text messages and seven missed calls.
Her stomach dropped when she saw that they were all from Fletcher, Savanna, and Rose.
Something terrible had happened; she knew it.
She tried calling Savanna’s cell first, but it went straight to voicemail. She quickly keyed in a text saying that she only just got her phone back.
Not wanting to miss a return call, she decided to text Fletcher instead of calling him.
Where are you? Savanna’s not answering. Are you with her?
He answered right away.
Mercy Hospital.
What happened?
Trouble on a call.
You had a fire today???
She probably didn’t need to ask him that. It was clear that he had. But she was experiencing all of this for the first time right this minute. Her processing happened slowly. There was something she ought to ask Fletcher.
Oh, right.
Are you okay?
I’m fine. Nick’s hurt.
On my way.
Chapter 17
Fletcher took another lap around the waiting room before sitting down with Rose again. He’d tried to get her to go home for the last hour, but she was adamant that he needed someone to stay with him.
Savanna was inside, in a room with a sign that directed her not to use her cell phone, one bed, and lots of machines. And Nick.
As the hours had passed, nurses realized Fletcher needed updates, so they came and reported what they were permitted to report. The words floated like dark clouds in his mind. Smoke inhalation. Severe concussion. Inconclusive.
Fletcher walked laps and waited, keeping his phone in his hand for whenever Hadley decided to notice that Savanna needed her. That wasn’t fair, and he knew it. But what was keeping her? It was so unlike her to not be there that he started to worry that something had happened to her.
He got up and walked halfway around the lobby before he felt his phone vibrate with an incoming text.
Where are you? Savanna’s not answering. Are you with her?
His relief overcame his annoyance that she’d waited so long to respond. Now he had to choose one of her questions to answer.
Mercy Hospital.
As soon as he hit Send, he knew he should have softened it.
What happened?
Now he had a chance to explain, but it would take too long. Just get here, he thought.
Trouble on a call.
You had a fire today???
What was he supposed to say to that?
Are you okay?
Was he? He certainly felt better now, knowing that she cared.
I’m fine. Nick’s hurt.
On my way.
He knew that as soon as she got in the car, she’d have her phone put away, so he pocketed his and went to tell Rose it was time to go home.
She watched him come, a question on her face.
“She answered?” Rose asked.
Fletcher nodded. “She’s on her way. You need to get to bed.”
Rose gave him a look. “It’s eight-thirty.”
Fletcher slumped into the uncomfortable chair beside her. “Is that true?” Head in his hands, he exhaled a long, shaky breath.
“Maybe you should get to bed,” Rose said, her hand on his back.
Fletcher said nothing, but he shook his head. He knew Rose understood. He wouldn’t be leaving until he knew Nick was fine. Preferably fine enough to be home. Or back at work.
Rose patted him. “How about you go wash your face,” she said. “Help wake you up.”
Fletcher nodded and hauled his tired body out of the plastic chair. He made his way to the lobby restroom where he splashed warm water over his face, then cold. Feeling the stubble on his jaw underscored how long a day it had been. The hand dryer was one of those stick-your-hands-inside numbers, so it was no help at all for his face. He pulled his T-shirt up and wiped off the water and realized he hadn’t yet showered after the call.
Falling for a Former Flame: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love) Page 14
