Chapter 18
Greyson
I don't know when we'll see each other again
or what the world will be like when we do,
but I know I’ll miss you.
~ Arthur Golden
The next day, I show up a few minutes early to work. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the moment her van pulls into the lot. She hasn’t seemed to notice any difference in our routine despite the fact that I’m killing time in my Jeep every morning until she arrives.
We lost yesterday’s game four to one, with Mia hitting our only home run.
After the game, we went out for pizza with all the families, leaving a sparkly trail of glitter in our wake.
Hallie pulls into the station parking lot and hops out of the van, glancing over at me and smiling.
I step out of my Jeep and walk side-by-side with her toward the station.
“That was some game,” she says with a soft chuckle.
“Nowhere to go but up,” I say. “Was Mia disappointed?”
“She practically hit the ball out of the park.”
“I saw. I was wondering if she was disappointed at the loss. She takes baseball so seriously.”
“We talk about losses as an inevitable part of life around our house. So, she’s learned to take them in stride.
She’s lost more than a ball game here and there.
” Hallie’s face goes momentarily still. Her eyes shift away and then her warm smile returns almost too quickly.
“She was pretty entertained by the mascot.”
“I think I’m going to owe the Parks and Rec some compensation for the glitter clean-up.”
“You will? Why you?”
“I’m the coach.”
“Well, that’s not fair at all,” she says, popping a hand on her hip.
“They wouldn’t make me. I’d just offer.”
“Ohhh,” she says. “Well, Greyson. That’s what we commonly call doing too much.”
“You think?”
We’re at the door now, and it’s too soon—too soon to have to share her with everyone else. I search her face for a sign she feels it too. She just gives me a soft smile. Then she opens the door. I wait for her to walk in and then I take an empty chair across the table.
After shift change, Cody says, “My crew, stick around.”
The alternating crew heads out the door.
Patrick, Dustin, Hallie and I sit around the dining table eating donuts Dustin brought in from his wife’s bakery.
“These never get old,” Dustin says, holding up his favorite, a blueberry lemon.
“They actually do,” Patrick says. “If they sit around for a couple days.” He pauses. “I think that’s why those half-price ones are called Day Old.”
I chuckle and Dustin glances at me, his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What?” I ask, swallowing the last bite of a maple bacon.
“You’re smiling—again.”
I brush a crumb from the table, straightening my face to its usual neutrality.
I turn my focus to Cody while he runs through our role in the upcoming Pie Day Festival.
The annual spring event in Waterford is more significant than Groundhog Day.
Spring might start on a certain day on the calendar, but in Waterford, it starts on Pie Day.
Our station runs the pie toss and sometimes a few of us judge the entries for best pies.
Hallie’s eyes are locked on Cody, attentive and respectful. My gaze keeps flicking her way and then back to our captain. She’s under my skin. But, then again, she always has been.
After our meeting, the day flies by. We have a few medical calls and an electrical fire we contain before it gets out of control.
Cody leaves at five. The county rearranged it so he’s day captain, leaving the four of us on crew overnight.
I’m acting officer in his absence. I cook dinner—pasta, steamed veggies and roast chicken—and the four of us eat around the table, talking about the electrical fire and listening to Dustin carry on about Emberleigh and how she’s going to out-bake everyone in town for Pie Day.
Hallie and Dustin do dishes. I sink back into one of the recliners along the wall and open my laptop, but I’m watching them banter like siblings. Dustin’s making Hallie laugh. Patrick’s got his head in a book, so I can shamelessly watch her without any repercussions.
After they hang the dish towels, Dustin challenges Hallie to a game of cards.
“Wanna join us?” Dustin asks, glancing at Patrick and then me.
Patrick’s reading some romance novel—as usual for him. It’s wrapped in a paperback cover that obviously came from another book.
“I’m good,” he says.
“I’ll pass too,” I say. Then I ask Patrick, “Good read?”
Dustin and Hallie take seats at the table and Dustin deals the cards.
Patrick looks up and smiles at me. “Spy novel.”
“Spies, huh?” I tease. “Is that what they’re calling them these days?”
“Mm hmm.”
“Any of those spies call a woman milady, or do they wander across the heath in a fog with a broody expression on their face as they approach the damsel they’re secretly pining for?”
Dustin doesn’t join in like he usually would. He’s too busy trying to beat Hallie at cards.
Patrick simply smiles and reiterates. “Spies. I’m reading about spies.”
Maybe he is, but a lot of the time he’s reading romance for his podcast—the one he hid from us for years.
I open my email.
There it is.
Sender: FEMA. Subject: Application for Emergency Management Specialist.
My finger hovers over the mousepad and then I click.
The email is basic. Simple.
Hallie lets out a whoop. “Ho yeah, baby! You lose!”
“No!” Dustin shouts. “I demand a rematch.”
Hallie’s eyes sparkle. “Glutton for punishment?”
“I’m just a hopeless hoper.”
She laughs. Our eyes lock. I smile briefly and look back at my computer.
Mr. Stone,
We have received your letter of interest for the position of Emergency Management Specialist. Thank you for letting us know you are available. The position is being officially listed this week. We will be in touch shortly with further details and the link to the JobsUSA listing.
Thank you,
Jonas Brandt, Human Resources Specialist
Federal Emergency Management Agency
Washington, DC
Office of Response and Recovery
I close my laptop and stand up. “I think I’m going to head to my bunk.”
“Everything okay?” Patrick asks.
“I’m good. Just tired.”
Patrick nods, turning back to his book.
“Night, old man,” Dustin says with a laugh. “I’ll try to be quiet when I come in.”
I ignore him.
Hallie says, “Goodnight, Grey.”
Grey. She picked up the nickname from the guys. I press my lips together, keeping my grin to myself.
“Night,” I say, barely glancing her way.
One look at her right now and I wouldn’t be able to keep my feelings tucked safely away. Dustin and Patrick would know in an instant. It’s one thing for them to find out I went to her house for dinner. It’s another for them to see how much she means to me.
I get ready for bed, changing into a department T-shirt and athletic shorts.
I lay on my twin mattress for a while, thinking about the email from FEMA and about Hallie showing up in Waterford.
She’s right here—in the building. Every night, I’m more aware we’re only separated by a few walls.
I’m sure we all consider the fact at least once every shift.
Having a woman in the mix is an adjustment.
But for me, it’s always been more because it’s her.
I don’t settle in the way Patrick and Dustin do.
I stare at the ceiling, thinking about her and our night in Germany.
And it’s only been worse since I found out she’s Mia’s mom.
Times ten after I had dinner at her place.
When she leaned in for a hug that night, I braced myself, but nothing could have prepared me for the way it would feel to have her in my arms again after all these years.
I’m unable to sleep, so I keep company with my thoughts until Dustin comes in, his bed creaking under his weight. He rolls over, staring in my direction.
“Grey?”
“Yeah?”
“Nighty night.”
I chuckle. “Goodnight moon. Goodnight, you big buffoon.”
Dustin cracks up. “See. That right there. Did you get your wisdom teeth pulled or something?”
“What?”
“You’re telling jokes, Grey.”
“I told a joke. One.”
“Okay. Fine. Don’t tell me. Goodnight hay. Goodnight, cheery version of Grey.”
The lights are out, so he thankfully doesn’t see me smile into the darkness.
I toss and turn, dozing occasionally. Hours after Dustin came in, I’m still restless. The whole station’s asleep but me. I quietly slip out of bed, pushing my feet into my slides and carefully making my way through the bay to the kitchen.
When I open the door, the light over the stove is on.
“Oh!” Hallie jumps in surprise. “Greyson.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine. Did I wake you?”
“No. I was awake. Can’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
“Mind if I join you?” I ask.
When I set out for the kitchen, the firehouse felt lived-in, familiar, a home away from home. Now, seeing her here, it feels alive and different than it ever has before.
The refrigerator hums low—the only noise in the quiet around us. Hallie’s features glow from the soft yellow light over the stove. I stand in the doorway, my hand on the jamb.
“I’d love that,” she answers with a warm smile that carries me back nine years in an instant.
“What are you cooking?”
“What do you think?” Hallie’s tone is flirty, but safely so. Her eyes crinkle around the edges.
“Cocoa?”
“Yes. Cocoa. Some things never change.”
“So many do.”
“Yes. So many do.” She smiles again—this time, softer. “Want a cup?”
“Sure.” I step further into the kitchen and open the refrigerator, pulling out lunch meat, cheese, condiments and bread.
“Sandwich?” she asks.
“Guilty of midnight snacking,” I confess.
“It’s the best kind of snacking.”
A grin tugs at my lips. That same easy rightness wraps us in a familiar cocoon. Only Hallie and I exist. The rest of the world fades softly into the distance. We move around one another comfortably. Hallie stirs the pan of milk and I pull the sandwich ingredients out of their packages.
“Want one?” I ask her.
“I shouldn’t, but yes. I definitely want one.”
“Any special requests?”