Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Remy
"Damien's on the phone!" Nat yells.
Skipping over to the table where I'm sitting with Sadie, my sister waves her oversized iPhone in the air. I reach for it and peer at the screen.
"Bro, where are you?" I yell, holding up my coffee. I don't mind being a bit loud because we're the only ones sitting on the little deck at the cafe. "I didn't think you'd call today, since you're on a fire and all."
"Base camp, finally," he says. "Got a couple hours of cell before we head back out."
"Wow, you look rough, brother. You okay?"
"Yeah, hold on. What the hell, how do I work this. There we go," my brother mutters.
The video jumps and shakes, then switches from his bearded, ugly mug to a panorama of pine-covered ridges, with a thin column of smoke rising in the far distance.
"Wow. Beautiful country," Natalia says. "Brutal, though."
The video pans for a few seconds, capturing rows of yellow Nomex shirts hanging on a line to dry. Then it jumps and shifts again to my twin.
"We've been on the line for two weeks. Got pulled back to base for forty-eight hours. It's been so effing good to sleep on a cot instead of in the dirt. And to FaceTime Kate." There's a glint in my brother's eyes when he says her name.
"Good for you, man, you deserve it." I tip my coffee to the screen. The phone is precariously perched against a plastic holder advertising today's flavors.
"Where are you all?" Damien asks, scratching his furry jaw. It looks like he hasn't shaved since he left — his beard's that long.
"Ice Ice Baby. I'm with Nat, and we ran into Sadie. Getting coffee."
Sadie pops into view behind my left shoulder. "Hey dude! Can't talk long, I'm off to go slay Nat's score at pinball."
We all laugh, and Damien shakes his head. "Geez, I miss that. Have a coffee for me. I can't wait until I get home."
"About that. This was supposed to be the last rotation, right?" Nat asks, a line of concern grooved between her brows.
We all try not to voice our worry about Damien. But when we see him on video chat, it's hard to keep that worry from seeping into the open. Each time he's fighting a fire, he looks older. More serious. More anguished.
Today, though, he's none of those things. Must be Kate and the power of love. All that mushy stuff.
"Yeah. Hopefully soon. Couldn't say no when the chief asked. But after this fire's contained, I'm home for good. Hey, how are Dad and Ma? And how are things at the resort with Max?"
"Doing well," Nat chirps. "Dad and Ma are planning their big cruise. The resort's doing well. We got a nice write-up in Florida Trend. Let's see, what else? My jewelry's now in three more stores."
"Awesome. You're killing it, sis."
Nat grins. "And Tate and Isabella are working hard on some turtle thing. With Lauren. A book or something. Oh, and your twin has a girlfriend."
I laugh. "Do not."
"Shut up." Nat swats me on the chest. "Wanna know how I know it's serious?"
Damien's cracking up. "How?"
"Because we've been here at Ice Ice Baby for an hour and he hasn't flirted with a single woman." She leans in. "Not even Sadie, who's wearing a really low-cut top tonight. Remy's been sitting and talking with Sadie like she doesn't even have boobs."
Damien's eyebrows shoot up. "Seriously? You? Shut up."
"Aww, come on, bro." I wave my hand in the air dismissively. "You know I'm not interested in Sadie. She's like another guy."
"You really have a girlfriend?" Damien asks skeptically. "Who?"
I shrug. "Leilani's not a girlfriend, not exactly. She's more like a..." I grin. "A magical unicorn mermaid that spreads joy and love wherever she goes."
Damien brings the phone close to his face so that only his eye is visible. He moves the camera in and out. "What did you just say? I didn't quite catch that. Repeat."
Nat giggles. "Let me translate. Your twin brother has a friends-with-benefits situation with a beautiful, awesome woman who is opening a mermaid-themed bar. In her spare time, she puts on a sparkly tail and swims at the springs like she was born in the water."
Damien strokes his beard, grinning. "Well, dang."
I lean into the phone and lower my voice, trying and failing to hide my excitement.
"It's everything I ever wanted, man. Like, we're totally good friends plus there's chemistry.
We hang out, we kiss, we order pizza and eat it in bed.
We're easy. This way, I can remain spontaneous; she has her space to focus on her business… "
"You two exclusive?" he asks.
I shrug. A funny, fizzy feeling in my stomach appears whenever I wonder if Leilani might be dating someone else. I don't think she is. I sure hope she's not. "We haven't talked about it, but yeah. I mean, I don't want anyone else, and heck, why would she, when she's got this anytime she wants?"
I raise my arm into a bodybuilder pose, showing off my bicep. Nat rolls her eyes and says something snarky under her breath.
"Gotta run, guys," Damien says. "Crew chief just rolled up. Briefing in two."
"Stay safe!" Nat cries.
"Bye, bro," I yell.
Nat taps the phone off. "Geez, whenever we're on with him, we all start yelling, don't we?"
I take a sip of coffee and nod. "Can't help it. Just feels too good to know that he's okay."
"He looked good just now, though."
Sadie wanders back, toting an enormous iced coffee. "How's Kate holding up?"
Nat sighs. "She's a champ. But this last rotation was supposed to be the last. Now another. She's quieter than she lets on."
"Poor Kate," Sadie says softly. "She doesn't deserve this limbo."
I think about Kate, who got married and is still living with her mom. Trying not to check her phone every thirty seconds.
Sadie pats the table. "Pinball calls." And she's gone again.
Nat and I exchange glances. We've talked amongst ourselves regarding how concerned we are about Damien, but we've never shared our concerns with Tate, Max, or our parents. And definitely not Kate.
No, Nat and I figure we can monitor the situation with him without making a big deal. We're like the front line of his personal mental health team. Damien's seen a lot as a firefighter, and we both wonder if he has PTSD.
If we need to, we'll get him help when he returns home.
But maybe Kate's the thing that will turn his mood around.
I can only hope. Although I think even I'm smart enough to realize that the love of a good woman won't fix my brother's darkness, an unfortunate byproduct of seeing too much destroyed by flames.
"Hey, where's Leilani tonight? She should be here," Nat says.
I shrug. "She said she was busy with the business. Mermosa's grand opening is in about a month."
"Shouldn't you be helping her, as her official mentor?"
"I asked her earlier if she needed my help and she said no. Weird, I haven't seen her since Sunday, at Ma and Dad's dinner."
Nat's perfectly groomed left eyebrow quirks up. "Is there trouble in mermaid paradise?"
I shake my head emphatically, but something inside my gut is still uneasy. "Nah. We're just doing our own thing. We're not joined at the hip like Max and Lauren or Tate and Isabella."
"No? You two spend a lot of time together."
"Yeah..." my voice trails off. We were spending a lot of time together.
Almost every night. But I haven't seen her for seventy-two hours.
My schedule for the next few days flies through my mind.
I have a couple of night fishing charters coming up.
And a couple of long days after that. Which means I might not get to see her for a while. That doesn't sit well with me.
"You know, come to think of it, I might just pay her a visit tonight. I miss her." I take out my wallet and check my cash level, then slide off my seat. “I’m outta here.”
"I've got the tab," Nat says.
"Cool. I'm going in to say goodbye to Sadie." I squeeze my sister's shoulder and slip inside.
Sadie's alone at the pinball machine, wiggling her entire body as she works the flippers.
There had been a brief moment in time earlier this year when I'd thought I might hook up with her.
She's cute, but now that Leilani's come into my life, I realize that I have zero chemistry with Sadie.
Besides, Sadie's got the hots for the town's mayor.
That's what Nat says. She's a cool chick, though, and I'm glad she's such a good friend to Nat and Kate.
"Hey, girl, I'm outta here," I say.
"Sweet. Catch you later. Can't take my eyes off this game.
See ya." The machine lights up and makes little bloops and beeps.
Sadie jumps into the air and whoops. For some reason, my sister and her friends are all into this particular machine: Roller Disco.
It's from the 1990s, and I think it's a little ridiculous, but whatever.
I climb in my truck and fire it up. My need to see Leilani is raging now. On the way, I spot a baby blue, 1965 Ford F150 truck parked in the lot of Jack's Grocery.
Perfect.
The truck's run by Manny, the guy who owns the Pink Orchid flower shop. Sometimes he also sells flowers out of the back of a restored, vintage vehicle. Nat and Ma are always raving about the flowers that come from his truck, so I figure I might as well grab a bouquet for Leilani.
I pull up alongside and roll my window down.
"Hey, dude," I call out.
He walks over and shakes my hand.
"Do I pick out the flowers? How does this work?" I laugh as I climb out of the truck.
"Nah, I've got you. How are your parents? Heard from Damien?"
In the span of five minutes, we get the rundown of each other's families, and he gathers a bouquet that looks like it should be in a magazine or an Instagram spread. I hand him a fifty.
"Keep the change," I say, my heart swelling at how much Leilani's going to dig this bouquet. It's a riot of pink and purple, her favorite colors. "My girl's going to go crazy over these."
I gently set the flowers on the passenger seat and drive away.
My girl? Did I just call her my girl?
I did, and it feels right. Because that's what she is.
I tear up the walkway to her bungalow, and rap on the door. Holding the flowers out in front of me, I beam when the door swings open.
"Hey, beautiful," I say, leaning in to kiss her.
She sniffles. "Hey."
"Got these for you. Have you seen that flower truck around town? I passed by it just now and thought of you." I press the bouquet into her hands.
She stares at the flowers, then blinks. "They're gorgeous. Thank you," she says slowly. Then she sniffles again.
I stroll into her house and flop onto her light blue sofa. "You got a cold? Feeling okay? Why are you sniffling? Oh, crap, are you allergic to flowers?"
Because her place is small, and the kitchen is open to the living room, I watch as she bustles around, opening cabinets. She takes out a vase and fills it with water.
"No, I'm not sick," she says. "Not allergic, either."
"Good. Wouldn't want you feeling bad during this last push for the business. How's the project? Sorry to just bust in on you, but I wanted to see you. It's been too long."
All her focus is on the flowers, and she's arranging them in the vase. She carries it over to the dining table, which is where she stacks all of her notebooks. Then she sits at one of the chairs at the table.
She's in a pink cotton dress. The kind that makes me want to spin her around like in those old black-and-white movies. But she's barely looking at me.
"It has been a few days, hasn't it, Remy?" Why does her voice seem so distant?
"Beautiful, come on over and sit next to me." I pat the sofa.
Slowly, she rises and crosses the room. With an uncomfortable look, she perches on the far end of the sofa. I slide over and fold her into my arms.
"Hey. I've missed you," I whisper. "Come here. Kiss me."
I try to tilt her chin up, but she wriggles out of my arms. "Um, we need to talk."
Oh, no. I've never been in a relationship, but I know that those four words — we need to talk — are never good.