Chapter 17
Ford
One of the most rewarding things about my job, aside from the obvious, is hosting Fire Prevention Week. The tradition of visiting schools to teach kids about fire safety started around the time my dad became a firefighter, and as one myself, I’m happy to keep carrying it on.
Especially if that means I get to see Lexi brag about her cool firefighter uncle to the other kids in her class. Take that, Nash.
But my niece isn’t the only familiar face I see this week.
Joe is standing with his friends—I recognize them from seeing them together around town—while my crew and I spend forty-five minutes trying to hold a bunch of teens’ attention. They don’t look too bored, especially not during the demonstrations outside.
After a mandatory fire drill, while everyone is still outside, I spot Joe again in the crowd. Only, instead of chatting with his friends or looking at his phone, he’s biting his thumbnail while reading something from a notebook.
“Hey, buddy,” I greet him under his friends’ attentive stares. Maybe I shouldn’t have approached him, but none of the teachers are giving me the stink eye. “How’s it going?”
He glances up from his notebook—some complex math I can’t even begin to understand—and gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, Ford. Not much. You?”
“Same old. Did you guys enjoy the talk and demonstration? I hope it wasn’t too boring.”
“No, it was interesting,” he says, sounding truthful.
“Yeah, it was cool,” one of his friends—Ethan, if my memory serves me right—chimes in. “I think I want to be a firefighter when I’m older.”
That makes me smile. “It’s a good career choice. You can always drop by the firehouse to ask us some questions if you’d like.”
He gives me an enthusiastic nod.
Before he can say anything else, a girl who can’t be much older than they are asks, “Aren’t you scared of going into burning buildings? What if you can’t get out?”
“Well, that’s always a possibility.” I watch as her expression morphs into one of horror.
“But we took an oath to protect our community, people we know and strangers alike, and we take those words very seriously. We have many ways to keep ourselves safe, and we train every day to be ready for every emergency. Being a firefighter takes a lot of discipline.”
“I could never,” she mumbles.
“I could,” Ethan retorts. “My mom won’t let me, though.”
I smirk, knowing exactly what he means. “My mom wasn’t too happy about me becoming a firefighter either.
It didn’t matter that my dad used to be a firefighter before he retired; she didn’t want me following in his footsteps.
Your parents are more than welcome to come to the station and ask all the questions as well. ”
“Thanks,” Ethan says. “How do you know Joe, by the way?”
“We’re neighbors.”
When I glance at the boy in question, he isn’t paying attention to our conversation. His eyes are glued to his notebook.
“He won’t stop studying,” Ethan says conspiratorially. “Like, not even at lunch. It’s a little too much.”
“Is it exam season already?”
“Nah. He’s just being crazy.”
I’m not sure about crazy, but he looks tired. The bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway, not to mention that he’s barely acknowledging anybody. That’s not like him. He might be reserved, but he’s not shy or antisocial. Something must be up.
I’m checking in on my crew, scattered around the place as they get ready to return to the firehouse, when my gaze shifts to the building entrance and the familiar woman exiting it.
If Joe looks tired, Ivy looks downright exhausted.
Her dark hair is thrown into a ponytail that is a little messy. The bag she’s carrying keeps sliding off her shoulder, and her usual carefree expression has been replaced by a deep frown.
What is she doing here?
“See you guys later,” I tell the kids. Joe is in his own world, but I still say, “Take care, buddy.”
He lifts his head and gives me a small smile. “Yeah, you too.”
Ivy is in the parking lot when I reach her.
“Ivy,” I call out, making her turn around. Her eyes widen in surprise, and I smirk. “Didn’t see the engine out front?”
“The fire truck? Yeah, but it didn’t occur to me that you’d be here. I’m a little over the place today,” she says distractedly as she fishes for something inside her bag. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Four days, but who’s counting?
“Good. Doing Fire Prevention Week with the guys. I just saw Joe back there.” When she only nods and grabs her car keys, I can’t help but ask, “Is everything all right? You both look tired.”
Her eyes find mine again. “Joe looks tired?”
“Not as much as you do, but yeah.” Despite my lighthearted voice, she doesn’t smile. She barely reacts at all. “Ethan says he’s been studying nonstop, even during lunch breaks. And now you’re here. I’m struggling to connect the dots.”
Connecting the dots isn’t your job is probably what she should tell me. Instead, she shakes her head and lets out a deep, tired sigh. This up close, she looks paler than usual too.
“I was in a meeting with one of Joe’s teachers.”
I wince. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t. He failed an exam, turned in an assignment late, and is distracted in class.”
“Are we talking about the same Joe?” Because he’s the most responsible sixteen-year-old boy I’ve ever met, and this doesn’t sound like him at all.
“Unfortunately. His teacher said he’ll keep an eye out, and I reassured him that it was a one-time thing, just a temporary rough patch, but what if it isn’t?
He needs to get into flight school, Ford.
It’s his dream. Should I punish him for getting a bad grade?
I don’t know how to do this parenting thing. I’m only twenty-six, and—”
“Hey.” I grab her by the shoulders in an effort to bring her back to earth.
“You’re doing great, Ivy. None of this is your fault.
Teenagers are difficult. It’s just that Joe has been easy to parent up to this point, and now things are getting a little tough—like they’re supposed to because he’s sixteen.
But I’m confident this is just a rough patch like you said. ”
“And if it’s not?” The raw worry in her eyes is killing me. “What if this is the beginning of the end?”
“It won’t be,” I reassure her. “I don’t have a crystal ball, but I have good instincts. And they’re telling me that Joe will learn from this mistake, and everything will be fine in the end.”
She shuts her eyes, and I let go of her arms, giving her space. When she reopens them, the hurt is still there. The urge to hug the shit out of her consumes me.
Ivy is right about something, though—she’s only twenty-six, far too young to care for a teenager on her own. She’s not a child by any means, but she’s dealing with one of the most complicated phases of a person’s life without any help.
And I don’t know what it means that I want to be that help for her. That I don’t want her to go through this alone.
“We’ll be fine,” she finally says, releasing a deep breath and schooling her features into something more neutral. A mask. “I’m sorry for venting like that. I’m sure you have bigger things to worry about than your neighbors.”
“You’re never a bother, Ivy, and neither is Joe. Get that out of your head already.” I tap her forehead for good measure, which makes her smile. It’s small, but it’s there. “Show me my illustration for the calendar?”
That pulls a laugh out of her. “Nice try, but no. I need to get mentally ready to die inside.”
“Why? Because you drew some abs?” I tease.
“Because I drew your abs.” Her cheeks heat up, and so do my insides. “I’m not showing you anything right now. I’ll flee the country and have a new identity by the time you buy a calendar and see it yourself.”
“Only you, Ivy. Only you.” I shake my head, glad to see that some of her usual humor is back. “I have to head back with the guys, but you know where to find me if you need to vent again.”
Her nod is a little shy. “Thank you.”
I watch her leave for her car, a confusing feeling swirling around in my stomach. Why do I feel so drawn to her? Why do I feel this urge to take care of her, to make sure both she and her brother are always safe and well?
Joe reminds me of my brothers and me when we were his age. We were young boys with big dreams—and the support to make them happen. Joe has Ivy, and she’s doing a damn good job with him, but they’re alone when neither of them should be. It doesn’t feel right or fair.
And Ivy…
Goddamn it—Ivy. It was me who pushed her away when we first met, wanting nothing to do with women after my divorce.
But now? Now I’m starting to wonder if that was a mistake.
Marriage isn’t something I believe in anymore.
But even if it were, I’m insane for seeing Ivy’s face in my mind when I think about weddings.
There’s no way she’s interested in me. She has enough on her plate.
And I can’t be interested in her. That isn’t the plan.
What I need is to take more time for myself, be alone, and figure out what I want the rest of my life to look like.
Uncomplicated, for one. And love is everything but.
It’s seven in the evening by the time I get home and jump in the shower after grabbing some ice cream with Lexi. We drove up to The Harmony Grove to see Nash, who threw his to-do list out the window the second we showed up to play dolls with our niece.
Technically, I didn’t go to work today—Fire Prevention Week is voluntary—and I have another day off tomorrow, but I don’t mind that I’ve been busy. We had a productive morning at Joe’s high school, and seeing my niece is always a plus.
At seven thirty, my phone rings, and I frown.
My parents, my brothers, and the guys at the firehouse are pretty much the only ones who have my number. But I have a special ringtone for all the fire crew, so I know it’s not them calling with an emergency.
The second I see the caller ID, though, I know something is very wrong.
“Joe? Everything okay?” I ask, my heart hammering inside my chest.