Chapter 23
Ivy
On Saturday, Joe drags me to the Beer Fest in the town square, swearing by their pretzels, and insists on buying me one with his lawn mowing money. No matter how much I insist that he doesn’t have to, the second he pulls the pout card, I give in. Just this once.
When he pays the lady at the stand, his shoulders are firmer and he stands taller. I can’t look away from the pride shining on his face as he passes me the pretzel, and I understand this was never about food.
“Thanks, Jojo.” I loop my arm around his as we stroll under the fairy lights hanging from the trees. It’s not dark just yet, but they still twinkle between the stands. Knowing I will dampen the mood but needing to talk about this at some point, I ask him, “Have you been giving Boston any thought?”
“I have,” he says with his mouth full. Once he’s swallowed, he adds, “I don’t want to live with Aunt Sherry. I want to stay with you. Here, where my friends are. But flight school….”
“I’m a little over thirty thousand dollars away from the tuition cost,” I tell him for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever shared with him how much money I actually have in my savings account.
He gapes at me. “That’s a lot.”
“It is, but I still have two more years.”
Maybe I’m being too optimistic, but if I don’t hold out hope for the things that matter to me, what’s the point of all this?
“That’s a lot of money,” he repeats. “Can’t we take a loan?”
“It’s not ideal,” I tell him, not feeling in the mood to explain how the economy works to a teenager on a Saturday afternoon. “But I will if I have to, don’t worry. You’re going to flight school no matter what.”
“I still haven’t talked to her,” he says, referring to Aunt Sherry.
I gave him her number after she left weeks ago because he’s old enough to make his own decisions.
This is his future. I love him to death, and I will never put myself between him and his dreams unless he’s in danger.
Aunt Sherry isn’t dangerous, just a mean witch to me—but not to Joe.
Never to Joe. Otherwise, I would have cat-fought her a long time ago.
“You can talk to her if you want,” I suggest, watching his face carefully.
“You can even spend a few days in Boston before making a decision. I don’t want my personal feelings to influence your choices, okay?
You need to have your independent thoughts about situations and people, and you can disagree with me. ”
He swallows another bite of pretzel. “I know.”
I take the first bite of mine. “Just making sure we’re on the same page.”
“We are,” he replies with his mouth full. “Hey, is that Ford?”
My gaze snaps up to the crowd, my heart beating so fast, I’m pretty sure it’s about to come out of my chest.
He helped me paint the kitchen yesterday, and every time our hands touched or he helped me down the ladder, it was torture.
“I was joking,” the little shit I call my brother admits, grinning ear to ear. “I wanted to see your reaction.”
I glare at him. “There’s no reaction. And mind your business. I don’t want a repeat of Jill’s Café.”
“No more crashing your dates, I promise,” he says, but I can still hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you dating Ford, though?”
This isn’t a conversation I particularly want to have with my sixteen-year-old brother, but Joe and I don’t keep secrets from each other. Being transparent with him comes easy. Still, I decide to keep any details that could traumatize him to myself.
“We’ve talked, but… it’s not that easy,” I start.
“That’s what he said to me,” he comments so casually, I almost don’t register it.
“What do you mean?”
“When I asked him why you went on a date with that guy and not him, he said it was complicated.”
My pulse is racing too damn fast to be considered healthy.
“Since when do you two talk about me?”
He mimes zipping his mouth closed.
“Oh, come on,” I insist.
“You like him. And it’s pretty obvious that he likes you, too, so why are you being stubborn about this?” he asks.
“I’m not stubborn. It’s just not the right time, that’s all. Ford and I are busy people. Not to mention, he got a divorce not long ago and isn’t looking for another relationship, so.”
“And you are?”
I love Joe very much, but I also realize this is the kind of conversation I should be having with friends.
I’ve never felt lonely in that department until now.
The only real friend I’ve made in the past few years hasn’t replied to my text yet, and I don’t blame her.
After ghosting her when I left, Alma doesn’t owe me a thing.
“My priority is to take care of you,” I tell him, rubbing at the weird feeling settling in my chest. It’s probably some form of anxiety. It’ll go away on its own.
“Don’t use me as an excuse. I’m old enough to take care of myself if you want to have a boyfriend and spend time with him. It’s not like I can’t be left unsupervised.”
“I’m not using you as an excuse.” The last thing I want is for him to feel like a burden when he’s everything but. “But I have a lot on my plate. You know that. It wouldn’t be fair to start a relationship with someone I would barely see.”
“If you dated Ford, he’s pretty busy too. It could work.”
I eye him suspiciously. “What’s with you and wanting me to date Ford so badly? It’s not the first time you’ve brought it up.”
“I just want you to be happy,” he admits. “And Ford makes you happy. He treats you well, and he’s a cool guy. He’s always been nice to me, even before you met him.”
“He is very nice to us,” I concede. I can’t exactly say he doesn’t like me because that would be a lie. He admitted to having feelings for me. But he also made it clear he doesn’t want to take things further. “We’re good friends, that’s all. You don’t have to worry about my dating life.”
“I don’t worry, I’m just nosy.”
“Glad to see you’re self-aware.”
Something catches my eye then, and I pause. My palms start sweating at the sight of my firefighter calendar in the wild, right there at the Harmony Hills Fire Department booth. But that isn’t the only thing.
It’s the fact that there are ten or fifteen people lining up at the booth, and another four or five standing around it, calendars in hand.
“That’s… weird,” I mutter under my breath.
“What’s weird?”
With my chin, I point to the booth. “The calendars. People are buying them.”
“Because they’re cool,” my brother says. “Half-naked men aren’t my thing, but the illustrations are awesome.”
“Thanks, Jojo.”
Knowing I will probably crush my self-esteem in the process, I press a finger to my lips, silently telling Joe to keep quiet and play it cool, and drag him to the booth.
And I listen.
“My sister is raving about this calendar, so I had to get one.”
“I had no idea drawings could be so hot. Am I the only one who wants to lick these abs?”
“Who’s the artist? Probably got to see them all half naked for this. Lucky.”
Hauling Joe along, I sprint past the crowd, hardly believing my ears.
“They like it,” he whispers excitedly, squeezing my arm. “Why are we running away?”
“I don’t know. I’m overwhelmed.” Once we’re at a safe distance from their commentary, I let out a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm me down. “Ford said they would like it, and I didn’t believe him.”
“That’s because you self-sabotage for a living.”
I do, don’t I?
“He also said I should post my drawings online,” I recall out loud.
“I second that,” Joe encourages. “I could help you set up an account if you want. It’s not difficult; even Ethan’s grandma has one for her crocheting stuff. Oh! And you could upload videos of your drawing process too. I’ve seen some very popular ones.”
Panic swirls in my stomach. Me? Letting the world see my art? Something that comes from my most vulnerable side and that people could criticize to their heart’s content?
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You have nothing to lose.” Joe tugs me along farther down the street. “Will you do it if I buy you dessert?”
I laugh and tell him that extortion won’t work on me, but the truth is that I’m thinking about it.
Joe is right, and Ford is too—I have nothing to lose.
What’s the worst that could happen? That nobody will see my stuff? Nobody sees my drawings now, so it would be no different. That they hate it? If I really think about it, they would be nothing more than strangers on the internet. They only have as much power as I give them.
Maybe…
Maybe I should try.
Hours later, I’m still thinking about people’s reactions to the calendar as I clock out of my shift at The Harmony Grove. That’s when I spot the commotion in the reception area.
Usually, the main lodge is deserted at this hour. The restaurant, bar, and pool are closed, and guests stay in the cabins outside, so sometimes not even the receptionist is out here. But it’s past midnight, and there are at least ten people with their eyes glued to the TV in the reception area.
“Hey. What’s going on?” I ask Mitchell, the receptionist.
Before he or anyone else can reply, I see it for myself.
“Neighbors reported hearing explosions at around 9:00 p.m. Six fire departments from nearby towns, including Burlington, Richmond, Harmony Hills, and Shelburn, have deployed to help extinguish the flames inside the warehouse,” the news reporter says, which sinks my stomach to my feet.
“Officials are warning nearby residents to evacuate from the site, as the fire has been deemed extremely dangerous.”
“They don’t know what caused it,” Mitchell tells me. Like everybody else’s, his expression is somber. “But it’s a technology warehouse, so it’s extremely flammable.”
“I hope they put it out quickly,” another woman I’ve never seen before says, biting her lower lip. She’s wearing a chef’s uniform, so that might explain why we haven’t crossed paths until now.
“My god,” someone else mutters just as an explosion breaks a window of the warehouse.
I look away, my chest constricting.
Ford is there. I don’t know how I know, but my gut is screaming at me that he’s in danger.
This is his job, and he has more than a decade of experience. I trust him to take care of himself, and I trust his crew to watch out for him, but accidents happen. What if I never see him again?
Nash chooses that moment to come out of his office, his steps urgent and his phone pressed to his ear. He’s frowning, and Nash never frowns.
Before I can think it through, I’m moving toward him. He must read the desperation and fear on my face because, as I get close enough, he gestures with his head for me to follow him.
“I’m on my way. Yeah,” he says as I catch the end of his conversation. “I have a spare key. Don’t call her—I’ll be there in ten. Okay. Bye.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders as we leave The Harmony Grove in the direction of the parking lot. “You heard.”
That’s all he says.
“Is he there?” I ask him, not bothering to explain who I’m talking about or conceal the fact that I’m about to throw up on his shoes. It’s taking everything in me to control my body so I don’t pass out from this panic gripping at my chest.
“Yeah. I called the firehouse.” The words come out as if it pains him to say them out loud. “I was just talking to Rhys. The sheriff’s department needs him, so I have to drop by to watch Lexi. He’ll keep me posted. I can text you with any updates.”
“Please,” I beg. We stop in front of his car, parked just a couple of spots away from mine. “Will he be all right?”
He gives me a soft smile that doesn’t conceal that he’s worried too. “This is Ford we’re talking about. Don’t tell him I told you this, but he’s the most badass out of the three of us.”
I believe him, but…
Ford. Burning building. Dangerous.
The words won’t stop spinning around in my brain, and my urge to throw up and faint and cry intensifies.
“You care about him,” Nash observes. He doesn’t sound pissed or judgmental; he simply states it as a fact.
“A lot.” I swallow. “I don’t want him getting hurt.”
He gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze just as my eyes start burning with the tears I can’t keep at bay anymore.
“I’ll call you if something happens,” he reassures me. “Wait for him at home, yeah? Try to sleep a little. He will want to see you when he gets back.”
I nod, unable to utter a single word more without bursting into tears.
I should have known Nash wouldn’t let me go without pulling me into a hug. “He’ll be okay. This isn’t his first rodeo. I know it looks bad, but he’s trained for this. It’s in his blood. He wouldn’t want you to worry about him. You know how he gets.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, drying my tears with the back of my hand. I pull away, looking my boss in the eye. “I’m just being dramatic. I’m sorry. He’s your brother, and I’m out here bawling my eyes out for no reason.”
“I think there’s a reason,” he teases. “As the family’s official busybody, I know there’s something happening between you two, and I’m waiting to see where it goes.”
Despite the circumstances, my cheeks heat up. “Nowhere, I don’t think.”
“We’ll see. I’d love to pester you some more about it, but I have to get to Lexi so Rhys can leave.”
That sobers me up. “Of course, yes. Please, go. And thank you for the hug. It really helped.”
“I’m glad.” He gives my shoulder another squeeze. “I’ll see you on Monday. Try to sleep, okay?”
But I don’t.
I don’t sleep a wink.
While Joe snoozes away in his bedroom, blissfully unaware of what’s going on, I spend the next seven hours glued to the local TV channel, praying to gods I don’t believe in that nothing happens to Ford.
I try to find him in the crowds every time the camera focuses on the warehouse, but I don’t see him.
Nash doesn’t text or call, and I don’t know what to make of it.
I hold my breath every time the reporters give any updates and only release it when they don’t speak of victims. They mention some firefighters being sent to the hospital, at least five of them, but they don’t say from which department.
They get the fire under control shortly before six in the morning.
It’s close to eight when I hear a car pulling into Ford’s driveway.