Chapter 7 Ford
Ford
When night falls and everything but the food stands have closed, street and fairy lights illuminate the town square. Some people line up for hot food while others gather around the carnival games by the fountain.
“I wouldn’t trade this job for the world,” Ian comments, watching the crowd with his arms crossed, “but the festival looks sick. I’m getting major FOMO.”
Fear of missing out. It’s not that I’m ancient—unlike what Ivy suggested—but I’m not always up-to-date with the latest slang. Sometimes, it feels like the younger guys at the department speak an entirely different language.
I find myself silently agreeing with Ian. Being a firefighter is in my blood, but this job means we often miss birthday parties, trips, last-minute plans, and fun stuff like festivals. Even though I’m not a party kind of guy, I’ll admit the festival looks tempting.
“You’re getting next week off. Focus on that,” I tell Ian, hoping to lift his spirits.
His sigh, however, is all sorts of dramatic. “Only thing keeping me sane these days, man. That and the cute brunette you were talking to earlier. She was the one handing out donuts the other day, wasn’t she?”
“Her name is Ivy.” My voice sounds tighter than intended, but damn it, she’s no “cute brunette.” I mean, she is cute. Whatever. But she has a name.
“Where do you know her from?”
“She’s my neighbor.” I eye him carefully. “Why?”
“Didn’t you just hear me calling her a cute brunette?”
I sure fucking did.
“And?”
Ian is a good guy, but he’s also a goddamn flirt if I’ve ever seen one.
As I cross my arms a little tighter over my chest, I tell myself I’m only feeling this sense of protectiveness because Ivy told me she isn’t looking for a relationship.
Shielding her from unwanted attention feels like the right thing to do.
“And she’s hot,” Ian finishes.
“Uncle Ford!”
Turning just in time, I catch Lexi in my arms when she throws herself at me out of the blue. Luckily for my sanity, the conversation with Ian is long forgotten when my niece smiles at me.
“Hi, little lady. Did you come to the fair or to see your favorite uncle?”
“Both.” She squishes my face between her hands. They smell like cheese. “Daddy is letting me eat ice cream at the fair, but a small one. This tiny.”
She pinches her fingers together, looking like the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Rhys and his usual grim face are only a few steps behind her.
“What flavor are you getting?” I ask Lexi, giving her a forehead kiss.
“Chocolate, I think. But with sprinkles.”
“That’s extra yummy.”
“I know!”
“Careful, bug,” my older brother warns as his daughter throws her arms around my neck, hugging me.
“Yeah, careful. You almost tackled me to the ground, princess. It’s becoming easier the older I get. Ask your dad; he knows all about getting old and cranky.”
Rhys glares at me. I smirk.
No matter how many years go by, my brothers and I refuse to behave like adults when we’re together. We may love one another beyond reason, and we may always be there when life gets tough, but we won’t ever stop giving each other shit.
Rhys’s usual nonchalant mask is draped over his face. “Seen Nash around?”
“We texted this morning, but he’s pretty busy at the resort. I don’t think he’s coming.”
Out of the three of us Hayes brothers, Nash was always the most unlikely one to take care of the family business. That’s what anyone would’ve said years ago.
He wasn’t a good student, paid more attention to sports and girls than textbooks, and hung around a questionable crowd for a while.
So when our aunt retired from her position as manager of The Harmony Grove, a cabin resort in the mountains that has been in the family for decades, it took us by surprise when Nash stepped in to fill the role.
Not because we didn’t think he would do a good job, but because we never knew he was interested.
Now, three years later, The Harmony Grove is thriving like never before. Nash renovated the cabins and updated the decor in the main lodge and the culinary experience at the restaurant. Clearly, it was the right move—they’re booked out nearly a year in advance.
I set Lexi back on the ground, and she wastes no time going up to Ian and the rest of the guys to say hello.
“How’s everything?” I ask Rhys in a lower voice.
I don’t need to clarify for him to know what I mean. And I also don’t need to look at his face to tell that, much like me with my divorce, he doesn’t want to talk about it.
Tough shit.
We’re brothers, and we take care of one another. For that to happen, though, we have to open up—something Rhys has never been even a tiny bit good at.
“Adjusting,” he says.
Unlike me, Rhys has never gotten married. And unlike my ex-wife, Talia never cheated.
Talia and my brother had an on-again, off-again relationship for years that resulted in Lexi.
They tried to make it work for the sake of keeping the family together, but authentic connection can’t be faked.
After being more like roommates than anything for a long time, they officially parted on good terms a few months ago and sold the house.
Not every relationship has to go up in flames like mine did, and I’m happy for him. But mostly, I’m happy that it’s not been a difficult transition for Lexi. I don’t speak from experience, but it can’t be fun to have your parents openly hate each other.
“How about custody?” The last time we spoke, things weren’t finalized with their lawyers.
“Joint. Alternating weeks.” His eyes are glued on Lexi, who’s giggling without a care in the world as she tries on Ian’s helmet. “It fucking sucks that I’ll only get to see her two weeks a month.”
“Talia won’t stop you from seeing her during her weeks if you want to. And vice versa.”
I’ve never known her to be a vindictive person. Rhys hasn’t told me otherwise either.
“Our lawyers advised us to respect each other’s time,” he explains. “I’ll get used to it. We all will. It’s for the best.”
I squeeze his shoulder in reassurance. “Aside from that, how are you doing?”
I don’t expect him to get into detail. Out of the three of us, Nash is an open book, I’m a “depends on the day” type, and Rhys is an “in your fucking dreams” kind of guy when it comes to discussing our feelings and personal stuff.
“Work keeps me busy when I don’t have Lexi,” he replies, which doesn’t surprise me. Just like being a firefighter is in my blood, working at the sheriff’s department has always been in his.
“Daddy! Ian said there’s a carousel at the square.” Lexi runs to my brother’s side, jumping up and down while tugging at his sleeve. “We need to go now.”
He gently resecures her pigtails, the storm in his eyes clearing as soon as his daughter makes an appearance. “We better go, then. Say goodbye to Uncle Ford and his friends.”
A while later, after we’ve helped an older gentleman get his cane unstuck from the crack of a drain—weirdly, it’s the fourth case of stuck canes we’ve had this year—I offer to buy everyone some hot dogs and sodas. But since they either brought something to eat from home or aren’t hungry, I go solo.
My first stop is the Harmony Hills Fire Department booth, though. I catch them right before they leave to ask how the market went.
“Meh. Sales could’ve been better,” Ian’s mom tells me. She handles the merchandise line alongside other volunteers.
My hopes sink. “Shauna, please tell me we’re not going back to the calendars.”
I wasn’t kidding when I told Ivy my sanity depended on it. All profits from our merch are donated to local charities, hence why I don’t want to say no to participating in things even if they creep me out. But I really, really need this merch to do well.
“We’ll see.” She sends me a warning look as she finishes packing up her stuff. “If I were you, I’d start getting used to the idea.”
Well, fuck.
I say goodbye to Shauna, feeling a lot less optimistic than I had just five minutes ago, and wait in line at the crowded hot dog stand.
“Oh my…. Ford? Is that you?”
I vaguely recognize the woman’s voice before I turn around, only to come face-to-face with one of my ex-wife’s friends—a friend who couldn’t offer to “console me” fast enough right after the divorce.
Talking to her sounds about as appealing as getting stabbed in the knee, but I was raised right, so I give her a polite smile and a “Hey, Tina.”
She sends me a sweet smile and licks her lower lip. “Looking good in that uniform. Are you working tonight?”
It would be weird if I made a habit of wearing my uniform while off duty is what I want to say, but I don’t because I’m not an asshole. Yet I also don’t want to entertain this conversation more than strictly necessary, so I settle for a good ol’ “Yeah.”
Even if I were thinking of jumping back into the dating pool face-first, it sure as hell wouldn’t be for my ex’s friend. Someone who threw herself at me while knowing Jocelyn was still legally married to me isn’t someone I want to be involved with in any way.
“It’s been far too long since we saw each other,” she says, either not getting my dismissal or not giving a crap. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. “We need to catch up when you’re not busy. How about coffee? Or maybe a drink after I leave the office?”
What am I supposed to say? That I’m not interested? I mean, yeah, because I’m not. But the mental picture of my mother pointing an accusing finger at me, telling me to be nice to people or else, is enough to stop the words from coming out.
I don’t want to be rude or upset Tina, no matter how uncomfortable she’s making me.
“I’m very busy these days” is the chickenshit answer I go for.
Her smile falters. “Oh. Well, that’s all right. We could always meet up whenever you have a day off. Here, I’ll give you my number.”
My strategy isn’t working.
“Hey, Ford.”
The sound of Joe’s voice catches me off guard as much as turning to see him right behind me does, holding three hot dogs. He pushes one into my hands and says, “There you go.”