Chapter 28
Greyson
To love at all is to be vulnerable.
~ C. S. Lewis
My house is too quiet. Too big. Too empty.
I pace from the living room to the kitchen and back—again.
Hallie and Mia have dentist appointments today—on our day off—one we’d normally spend together.
I’m lonely.
I’m never lonely.
Lonely has been my happy place—until now.
Now my house is an echo chamber and my head is a shooting range. I have to get out, so I call Mrs. Kinkaid, even though I’ve got an appointment before lunch—my panel interview with FEMA.
Since I’ve been spending all my free time with Hallie, it slipped my mind to cancel the interview.
I figure I’ll go through with it. I’m not necessarily even considering taking the job.
I’m just following through with the application process.
The final call as to whether I take the position will be up to three things: if they select me, if Hallie ends things between us, and if I say yes.
As much as we love to talk about our impenetrable bubble, Hallie and I don’t know where our future is headed.
She may come to a juncture and realize she has to kick me to the curb because she can’t afford to risk Mia’s stability.
I understand her reasoning and I support her one hundred percent, even if I get a knot in the pit of my stomach every time I think of us going through a breakup.
Now that I’ve found Hallie, I want nothing more than to make a life with her—and Mia. But that call is not mine to make.
“Greyson? To what do I owe this honor?” Mrs. Kinkaid says when she answers the phone.
“I’m off work today. Just checking if you have anything that needs fixing.”
“As a matter of fact, the light over my dining table keeps flickering. I was going to call Stan out this week to have a look at it. Seems like a fuse thing, but what do I know? I’m not Benjamin Franklin. I stay far away from things that can zap me.”
I chuckle. “I’ll be over in a few minutes to take a look at it.”
“I’ll make you lunch.”
“Can’t stay for lunch. I’ve got an appointment. But you can make me a glass of tea.”
“Done,” she says. “But you owe me lunch.”
“Deal,” I tell her.
I grab my toolbox and head out to the Kinkaid house, grateful for the sunshine and fresh air and something to keep my mind off Hallie. Not that my mind is off her. It never fully is.
Memories always flood me when I pull up in front of Zach’s childhood home.
I can almost hear us shouting at one another as we ran in and out of that front door, the screen clattering shut behind us.
A hollowness moves from my throat to my gut.
His birthday is this month. We celebrated in his back yard on years when the weather was nice.
Otherwise, parties were in his basement.
I lug my toolbox up to the front door and knock.
Mrs. Kinkaid opens the door with a welcoming smile.
“I’m so glad you made time for this,” she says. “You know you can pop by without a mission to fix something.”
“Why not fix something if I can?”
“I’m not complaining,” she says, walking ahead of me toward the dining room.
“This is the light. I probably shouldn’t have gotten a dimmer switch, but I liked to use it when we blew out the candles on the birthday cakes for the boys. And, every so often we’d have a candlelight dinner for no reason.”
“I remember,” I tell her. “And it’s his month.”
I’m not always so bold. Hallie’s rubbing off on me.
“It is,” she says, looking around the room, seeing all the years we spent around this table in a glance.
“It’s always a little bit hard on me,” she says with a softness to her voice.
“How can I help?”
“You already help me, Greyson. I love when you stop by, but I wouldn’t want you here all the time. I know you’re a grown man with a life. It’s not your job to fill in the blanks.”
“No one could fill them—especially not me,” I admit.
Zach was larger than life. The hole he left is the Grand Canyon.
“Don’t try to fill his place,” she says. “Fill yours. You matter, just because you’re you. And Zach would be glad you’re still here, stopping in on me.”
My throat tightens and I swallow the soft lump before answering her.
“I don’t just stop by to assuage guilt. I like it here.”
“And you like my sweet tea.”
“Busted,” I tell her, taking a sip from the glass she set out for me.
I turn off the power at the breaker and check the wire connections. Mrs. Kinkaid stands out of the way, watching me and chatting about volunteering at the community center.
“Looks like a wire nut is loose,” I tell her.
“That’s just what I was thinking,” she says with a smile.
“Really?”
“No, Greyson. I don’t know the first thing about what you’re talking about.”
I chuckle. “Well, that’s why you have me.” I step down the ladder, switching out my tool.
“I have you because the good Lord loves me enough to give me people like you in my life,” she says easily.
In a moment of unusual spontaneity, I step over to her and pull her into a hug. She leans in and gives me a squeeze.
“Well, now,” she says, stepping back and studying my face. “That was sweet.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I say, smiling down at her.
“I just might get used to it, Greyson. I might demand a hug every time I see you.” She smiles. “I might even ask for two on Tuesdays.”
I shake my head and climb back up the ladder.
Then, I go about the job, removing the nut, twisting the wires together firmly and screwing it back on. The whole job takes less than ten minutes.
“That should do it,” I say, draining my tea and testing the switch.
“I expect lunch before the month’s out,” Mrs. Kinkaid says.
“I’ll make sure of it.”
I pack up my toolbox, giving her another hug goodbye, and then I head back to my place, shower, pull on a dress shirt and tie, and turn on my laptop.
Three faces greet me when I log into the virtual meeting room. They introduce themselves as a member of FEMA, an HR person and another manager.
My palms sweat. I’m sitting on the same couch where Hallie warmed herself by my fire two days ago. What am I doing? I’d move heaven and earth to be near her.
It’s just an interview, Greyson.
I hold my breath, blowing out slowly through my nose without showing the people on screen that I’m box breathing to ease my nerves.
The questions come one after the other: “Tell us about a time you juggled conflicting priorities,” and “How do you handle stressful or emergency situations?” and “How would you describe your ability to work on a team?”
I’m honest in all my responses. They nod and take notes.
At times they glance at one another. I try to get a read on their reactions, but they’re professional enough not to let on about much.
That third question is the hardest one. “I’m an introvert by nature, a trained soldier and firefighter.
I tend to be the one sitting back observing, but somehow people always slate me for leadership.
I don’t take that responsibility lightly.
It’s my instinct to protect and serve people around me.
But I’ve never been accused of being the most smiley guy on the crew or in my unit. ”
They laugh at the way I describe myself even though I wasn’t trying to be funny.
After a few more questions, we wrap the interview up.
They thank me for my time and interest and I thank them for considering me.
I shut my laptop and fall back onto the couch.
My eyes scan my house—the place I’ve called home ever since shortly after I returned from deployment.
Zach never even got to see this place. He did meet Hallie, though. I smile at the memory.
My hand reaches for my cell on the coffee table before I second-guess myself. I pull up Patrick’s name and push the call button.
“Greyson?” Patrick answers, the note of confusion in his voice totally one I’ve earned.
“Yeah. Are you busy?”
“I’m just helping Daisy at the shop. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Never mind. I’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I’m about to hang up, but Patrick says, “Grey. Wait. What did you call about?”
“I need … I could use a sounding board. You came to mind. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re always fine. I’m on my way.”
“You don’t have …” The phone clicks. I smile down at it.
Maybe he does have to. I’d be on the way to him if the shoe were on the other foot.
What on earth is Hallie turning me into? First the hug with Mrs. Kinkaid and now I’m asking Patrick to come over and practically braid my hair.
I chuckle. She’s always had me in the palm of her hand—right where I want to be most.
The sound of Patrick’s tires on the driveway filters through the screen door. It’s a gorgeous spring day, one of those that follows a good rain. Puffy clouds fill the unnaturally blue sky and the birds sing like they’re throwing a party.
I step onto the porch and wave.
“Did you eat?” I ask as he approaches.
“Not yet.”
“Follow me.”
I pull out some deli meat and cheese and bread and make us sandwiches while Patrick makes himself at home at the island.
“I don’t have you out here enough,” I say offhandedly.
“We tend to go our own ways on our off days,” he agrees.
“You’ve got your wife and her business.”
“And you’ve got …” his voice trails off.
No time like the present.
“Hallie.” I turn to catch the shocked look on his face only to find him smiling.
“I thought as much.”
“Really? Man. We thought we were stealth.”
“She’s far more stealth than you. First it’s the smiles. And then it’s the way you watch her when she’s doing anything at all. Not like you’re watching a rookie. You’re watching her.”
“We met years ago.”
“Really?” There’s the shocked look.
“Yeah. In Munich, of all places.”
Just the mention of Munich brings a memory rushing forward—us running out of the bakery, gripping our cocoa and pastries, smiling at one another as we walked toward the botanical garden.
“Wow. So you knew her before she joined the crew? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want to rock the boat. She had a lot to prove. And she didn’t recognize me. Anyway …”
“So, you’re dating.”
“If you want to call it that. We’re spending our free time together—whenever she doesn’t have to be with Mia. But we’re not openly dating—because of Mia.”
“Ahhh. Yeah. That’s a tough call—when to tell a child you’re seeing someone as a single parent.”
“It is. And I’m letting her call the shots on that.”
“So, you wanted my opinion on your relationship?”
“No. Not really. I figured you’d approve—or not. I’ve got another situation going on.”
Patrick sits quietly. I set his plate in front of him. He thanks me.
“Water, tea?”
“Water.”
I fill a glass for him.
“Before Hallie showed up, a friend in DC called about a position with FEMA. I set the ball in motion to interview.”
“In DC? You’d be relocating?”
“If I get the job.” I pause. “And if I take it.”
“But now Hallie’s here.” Patrick states the obvious, then he takes a bite of his sandwich.
“Yeah. I didn’t think anyone needed me here. I knew Mrs. Kinkaid would miss me, but I know Waterford. Our town would step up and fill my shoes. And the station can find another firefighter. They found Dustin and Hallie.”
Patrick doesn’t say anything, but I see he’s got thoughts.
“But now, Hallie and I have grown closer,” I say. “I don’t know where this is heading. She’s dead set on Mia not finding out for now.”
I glance down at my sandwich, letting it sit on my plate. My appetite has vanished. A knot is lodged in my gut.
Patrick sets his sandwich down. “First of all, technically, we can all be replaced.”
I nod.
He adds, “But not easily. Especially not you.”
“I don’t know about especially not me.”
“Take my word for it.”
His face is serious, so I just nod.
“If you really wanted that job,” he says. “I’d miss you—a lot—but I’d support you.”
“Thanks.”
“But this thing with Hallie,” a smile overtakes his face.
“That’s a whole other subject. Maybe before I started dating Daisy, before we got married even, I would have thought a man could find love anywhere.
But now I know. The kind of feelings you obviously have for Hallie, that kind of love doesn’t come along every day. ”
“I’m that obvious, huh?”
“So obvious.” He chuckles.
“I don’t know where things will lead with her,” I say. “Mia comes first. Rightly so. And Hallie is protective. We don’t want to rock her world.”
Patrick gives me a side eye. “And yet you two are seeing one another.”
“Yeah. We can’t stop. Not yet. We just found one another after all these years.”
“I’m not telling you to stop seeing Hallie. And I get why you’re being careful. I just don’t know if pursuing the position in DC still seems wise now that everything has changed for you here.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. I was going to call off the interview, but I’ve been so wrapped up in her, I forgot.”
Patrick chuckles. “The great Greyson Stone forgot an item on his task list? This is serious, folks.”
I don’t even joke back. “It’s serious. So serious.”
Patrick smiles. “I won’t mention a thing to anyone.”
“Dustin knows.”
“What?”
“He walked in on us when we were hanging out in the kitchen one night after everyone had gone to their bunks.”
“He never said anything.”
“I knew he wouldn’t.”
“Well, your secret’s safe with me too.”
“I know. Thanks, man. And Dustin doesn’t know about DC. No one does.”
“I’m honored you called.”
“She’s changing me.”
“The best women always do.” He smiles and bites into his sandwich again.
We finish our meal and I clear our plates.
“Don’t you have a game this afternoon?” Patrick asks as I’m loading the dishes into the dishwasher.
“Yeah. Last one to see if we make it into the playoffs.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
“Thanks. And thanks for coming by on a moment’s notice.”
“Anytime,” Patrick says. “I mean it, Grey. I’m here for you if you need me.”
“Yeah. That goes both ways,” I tell him.
“I’m glad it goes both ways now.”
He doesn’t have to explain. I’ve been the giver. This time, I made the call.