Chapter 12 Greyson
Greyson
“My recliner is my best friend. We go way back.”
~ Unknown
Hallie walks into the station at shift change, all smiles, as usual. She’s the last one here, also as usual. But who can blame her? She’s the only one on our crew who has to get a child ready as a part of her pre-work routine.
“Hey, guys!” Hallie announces. “I brought chocolate chip banana bread. Help yourselves.”
She sets the platter down in the middle of the table and the men dive in like pigeons in a restaurant alley.
I sit back, arms folded across my chest, watching her satisfied smile as firefighter after firefighter moans with approval at her baking.
I picture her and Mia in their kitchen. Did they make this together?
Or did Hallie wait until Mia was in bed to do some late-night baking?
The warmth of it all stirs something dormant in me.
Whether it’s picturing Hallie with Mia, or her alone in her kitchen, it’s Hallie.
I’m still not over the fact that she’s here—and she’s a mom.
I casually asked Will about their situation after practice two days ago. Hallie’s a single mother, her sister and mom live in town and help out with Mia. That’s all he knew.
Hallie’s eyes finally land on mine. Was she ignoring me on purpose?
“Take some,” she says so quietly it’s not even loud enough to be a whisper.
I reach out, grabbing a napkin from the stack she set next to the serving platter and then selecting one of the three remaining slices of bread.
She watches me take the first bite. It’s warm and moist. I nod almost imperceptibly, letting her know it’s as good as she hoped, without drawing attention to myself.
She smiles at me and then looks away when Dustin shouts, “Man, you better not let Emberleigh know you can bake like this. She’ll be trying to get you to switch teams.”
“Switch teams?” Patrick asks.
“From fire to baking.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Hallie assures Dustin.
Cody calls us to order and we all settle in. The alternating crew fills us in on the events of the past four days we’ve been off. Once we’ve been briefed, they take off and we move into our routine.
Hallie passes me on her way into the bays.
“Morning, Coach,” she whispers with a private smile.
Her tone’s not seductive or flirty. Still, my chest tightens and a soft buzzing sensation spreads through me.
I’m transported—no longer here in Waterford.
I’m Ace, on the streets of Munich, hunting down a cup of hot chocolate for this spontaneous, captivating young woman who stole my heart in less than eight hours.
I push away from the spot where I was leaning on the counter, avoiding eye contact with anyone and walking toward the bays to give myself something else to focus on.
Hallie pauses, looking back at me.
I have to say something.
I step up beside her. “Mia’s doing great. She’s got real talent, but it’s her determination and focus that really set her apart—especially at this age.”
Hallie rewards me with an extra-wide smile. It’s one of those smiles I’ll probably remember for years to come. She’s so forthcoming with her joy and warmth.
“I never expected her passion to reach the level it has,” she confides. “I just enrolled her in T-ball because I thought she needed to burn off energy after school, and the practice schedule in Maryville fit our lifestyle.” She shakes her head. Then she glances around to see if we’re being watched.
Cody’s in the office. Patrick and Dustin are already starting checks on the engine across the bay.
She doesn’t want to talk about Mia here.
I get it now. She’s the rookie—the first woman on crew.
She needs equal footing. Being a mom feels like something we’d coddle.
Hallie doesn’t want to be given anything.
She wants to earn every bit of respect we give her.
That morning in the weight room told me everything I needed to know about her goals here.
“Well, your instinct paid off,” I say, thinning my lips and giving her one quick nod.
Her smile falls just the slightest and I feel like a jerk. I attempted to protect her privacy. Now she thinks I’m being cold.
But instead of walking off, Hallie reaches out and puts a hand on my forearm. The contact sends an unexpected jolt of electricity through me. She looks up into my eyes.
“Thank you,” she says softly. “For the way you’re pouring into Mia. Your coaching means a lot.”
I nod. This time I give her a smile. It’s not forced.
It comes without effort. I hope I don’t look deranged.
I must appear normal because Hallie smiles back at me.
She lifts her hand, staring at it as if she didn’t realize it was still attached to my forearm.
She walks away as if she didn’t just touch me for the first time in nine years.
I clasp my hand over the spot she touched.
Dustin shouts from across the bay. “Quit your slackin’, Grey! Get to work!”
I nod at him and head to the medic to make sure all the supplies have been restocked.
Later that afternoon, we’re called out to the home of what we affectionately refer to as one of the “regulars.”
“Cletus Bater’s down,” Cody says. “Greyson, Hallie and Dustin, take the call. Patrick and I will man the station.”
I look at Hallie. “Cletus' a regular. Won’t get rid of his favorite recliner. We get calls to extract him every few weeks.”
“Extract him?” Hallie asks on our way to the truck.
No need for the engine when there’s not a fire.
“He gets stuck in the chair,” I say.
“Cletus likes his Southern food. And he loves my wife’s bakery,” Dustin says. “He’s what you’d call a right jolly old elf—only far less jolly than Santa.”
I chuckle. Leave it to Dustin.
We take our spots in the truck. Dustin’s driving. I’m in the officer seat and Hallie takes the jump seat behind Dustin. The sky looks like it might rain, casting a cinematic lighting over the neighborhoods as we drive toward Cletus'.
We pull up to his small, one-story home.
I knock on the door. “Cletus? Are you in there?”
“I’m in here. Where else would I be?”
Dustin chuckles. “He’s got a point.”
“We’re coming in, Cletus,” I shout through the door.
“’Bout time!” he shouts back. “Door’s open.”
I turn the knob.
The front room of Cletus' home is a typical TV room. He’s got a couch, which he never seems to use, and his favorite recliner.
Both are usually centered around the coffee table.
Across the room, on a 1960’s style TV cabinet, the television is on, blaring reruns of The Andy Griffith Show at a volume that makes my ears ring.
“Mind if I turn this down?” I ask Cletus.
“What’s that got to do with gettin’ me out of my chair? This is the good part. Barney’s about to wake up with lipstick all over his face.”
Cletus is flat on his back in his recliner, which has tipped over—again. He peers around my ankles to watch the scene unfold, but then his gaze catches on Hallie. “And who do we have here?”
“Hello,” Hallie says. “I’m Hallie. The new firefighter.”
“They’re lettin’ girls on the squad these days?” Cletus asks.
Hallie puts her hands on her hips and her spine straightens with a determination that makes me wonder if she’s going to suggest we leave Cletus in his current predicament a while longer to teach him a lesson.
“They let girls on if we pass the academy and prove we can handle any crisis thrown our way,” she says.
“Well now,” Cletus says. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It sure is nice to meet you, Miss Hallie. You can call me Shugs. All my friends call me Shugs.”
“You never told me to call you Shugs,” Dustin complains.
“I said that’s what my friends call me. You can call me Cletus.”
Hallie smiles softly. “Well, Cletus, let’s see if we can’t get you up out of that chair.”
“Call me Shugs,” Cletus says. “And I wouldn’t need your help if it weren’t for the way this thing tipped this time.”
He’s lying feet overhead like a dead bug, legs skyward on the footrest, snugly compressed into the chair, as always.
The problem is that the back of the chair is lodged between the side table and the couch.
“Gait belt,” I say to Dustin.
“Got it,” he says, holding the canvas strap overhead.
“Hallie, can you get up on the couch and reach down toward Cletus on that side? I’ll pass the belt to you under Cletus.”
“Shugs,” Cletus says, looking at Hallie and closing one of his eyes slowly in what I think is an attempt at a wink.
I’m not calling him Shugs.
Hallie gets up on the couch, leaning over the armrest. I start to move the side table.
“No! No. No. No,” Cletus says. “You leave that right there, Greyson. That’s just where my wife liked that table. She wanted things just so.”
“We’ll put it back, Shugs,” Dustin says.
“I didn’t tell you to call me Shugs, Tree Trunk. I want the fire girl to call me Shugs.”
“Firewoman,” I correct Cletus.
“At my age,” he says. “She’s a girl.”
Hallie looks at me from across Cletus, a compassionate smile on her face. She mouths the words, Go with it.
I almost smile back. What is it about her? She always did have this straight shot past my defenses. Nothing’s changed in nine years.
“I have to move the side table, Cletus,” I tell him. “I’ll put it right back where Ginny Sue would want it. You have my word.” I pause, crouching low so I’m closer to his current level. “I know what it’s like to need things to stay in place when someone’s no longer with us.”
Cletus' eyes connect with mine. “Yeah, you do, don’tcha?”
I nod, solemnly.
“Go ahead then, move the table. But don’t you let one thing fall off.”
I carefully lift the table, setting it to the side, then I crouch next to Cletus.
“Lift your back for me,” I tell him.
“Now how am I supposed to lift my back? If I could do that, I wouldn’t have called you.”
“Cletus,” Dustin says, “You know you’ve got to give us some space to get the belt under you.”
“Listen, Tree Trunk, I know what I know. And what I know is that you’re just standing around while the pretty girl and Greyson do all the work.”
I chuckle under my breath.