Chapter 39
39
MASON
The first week, I’d been too busy reacclimating to do any deep thinking. The second, two of my colleagues had been shot during what should have been a standard domestic call. Coupled with a protest that forced me into mandatory overtime, I hadn’t done much of anything but eat, sleep and work.
And get Pia off again during the wee hours of last Friday night. I hadn’t gotten home until after midnight, but she’d told me to call no matter the time. So I did. And both of us were happy about the fact, me less so two days later when I’d spoken to Parker.
“You’ve got competition,” he’d said when he called me about the hallway wainscoting project he insisted on doing, even without my help.
“Excuse me?”
“Competition. Pia and I went to O’Malley’s last night. The oldest Baker boy split with his longtime girlfriend. I guess he’s ready to start playing the field.”
I’d just walked into my apartment after a long-ass shift and wasn’t at all in the mood. But Parker had kept at it.
“He wasn’t subtle either. Bought her a drink after asking me if we were a thing.”
Fuck. He was a good-looking guy, a real-estate developer who’d been partially responsible for revitalizing Cedar Falls these past few years. The town considered him their golden boy because of it. Praise that was, I supposed, well-earned.
“What did you say?”
“What do you think I said? I’m pretty sure pretending she was my girlfriend so no one went near her would not have gone over well with Pia.”
Obviously. But the thought of Pia with him, or any man, had jumbled my thoughts. Both then, and now. And every time in between when I thought of it. Despite the fact that Parker said Pia hadn’t shown any more interest than just being friendly, could I expect her to never date anyone but me again? How long would she put up with that?
Not forever, that was for sure.
The third week, I actually asked for overtime to keep busy. To keep my mind off the woman who had hired an assistant and was now handling 90 percent of operations at Heritage Hill. Who was even more capable than I’d ever realized. As passionate as I expected, even after our first kiss.
What a fool I’d been, to think I’d ever loved a woman before Pia.
By the time I ate, showered and hit the sack, it was well after 1a.m. Too late to text her. Since learning how to fall asleep anywhere, anytime… whether it was at the barracks or lying on the ground in the middle of a mission, a few hours of shut-eye necessary to function… I’d never had trouble falling asleep.
Until now.
Onea.m. turned into 2a.m.
Fuck it.
I turned on the lamp. My bedroom in this apartment was anything but homey, though I’d never minded before. I walked over to my dresser. Picking up a small shoebox, I started going through the few items of my father’s I’d brought with me.
I picked up the ring. A modest diamond. Nothing to write home about, especially in this day and age. Except… it was my mother’s. So to me, it was the most valuable piece of jewelry in the world.
Turning it around and around in my hand, I remembered the day my father gave it to me.
“I know it’s not much, but if you want it…”
We’d been sitting at the same kitchen island Dad and I had had many conversations around. I’d taken it from him, the pact firmly in place. One my dad knew about and thought had been ridiculous.
“It’s everything,” I’d said. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I withheld my true thoughts at the time, which were along the lines of, “I won’t be needing it.”
Placing the ring back in the box, I pulled out an old polaroid. It was one of the only pictures I had of the three of us. Dad said he and my mother were too busy working to stop for pictures. I suspected it had more to do with how sick my mother was for so many years. Either way, I stared at the outdated picture for so long, my eyes began to blur.
They’d been so happy.
High school sweethearts with an inn, and a son, and a dream for the future that cancer stole. Instead, it had been Dad and me for all those years.
Putting the picture back into the box, I closed the lid.
And sat there for God knew how long. Sleep eluded me until it was absolutely necessary, unless I wanted to get myself killed by being anything less than 100 percent alert on the job tomorrow.
My last thought before dozing off was about that very job. The one I’d taken to help people. But in reality, if I were honest, being a cop was as much about helping myself as others. I had no control over my mother’s illness. No control over the course of my life.
But if I could control the outcome for others… do some good…
My father’s job, being the innkeeper of Heritage Hill, might not be the same as saving people’s lives. But wasn’t making people happy a worthy occupation too?
The only answer that came to me was the silent darkness of sleep.