Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Vincent’s day had been great so far.
All except the crappy weather.
He’d met with Statler at Lace’s house at eight, dodging raindrops and using his new key for the first time, which had felt…right.
He didn’t want to look too far ahead, but with Statler’s plans for a new bathroom quickly being a “go”, Vince’s spirits were high. After much consideration and poking around, it would be a total tear-down, build-up.
In the end, there’d be a walk-in shower as well as a soaker tub, and Stat had even talked him into heated floors and warming towel racks.
Decadent.
They’d judiciously decided to let Lace pick the color schemes because… Yeah. Neither he nor Stat had an eye for decorating.
Certainly though, Vince would have finer amenities than he’d ever enjoyed before, and as much as he tried to temper his enthusiasm, he was pumped.
On a cautious note, if for some reason things didn’t work out with Vince staying at Lace’s, at least the renovation would increase the value of her home.
Vince was definitely not planning on it being a short-term thing, however. If he had his way, he’d work up to really dating Lace, breaking down whatever doubts she held about herself, adding Inez to the mix, then seeing about getting a pretty great “happily ever after”.
Vince had never imaged something like that for himself before; domestic bliss. But the more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea.
After parting company with Statler just before noon—having enjoyed several cups of coffee at a local diner where they’d hashed out details as they watched the deluge outside the oversized windows—Vince’s phone had buzzed as he was starting to pull out of the lot.
Social Services.
Heart in his throat, he’d immediately parked again and taken the call.
And it was all good.
They’d wanted him to know that his background check had already been run; fast-tracked because the agency was currently very short of foster parents. Which was bad for any kids in limbo, but very good for Vincent.
He was now all set up to start his on-line classes as soon as he wanted.
It would take thirty hours to complete all the class work, and when he passed—not if—the agency would then send someone out to do a home assessment at Lace’s.
The bathroom wouldn’t be finished by then, but the rest of the house was sure to be approved.
It was clean, it was homey, and once the social worker met Lace, there was no way they’d be turning him down.
When he’d further questioned the woman in charge about logistics, she’d told him that Lace would have to undergo a background check as well, but Vince and Lace had already figured that would be necessary. Lace was completely prepared to do whatever it took to get this process rolling.
Normally, the woman from the state had told him when he’d inquired as to time-tables, it took over six months to complete the entire vetting process for foster parenting.
But since they were pinched for available homes in the area, the agency was fast-tracking everyone through the needed steps to help mitigate the shortage.
Which was fine with Vince.
The sooner the better.
Not that any delay at all was going to stop him from attempting to be with Inez for all her treatments, but as her foster parent—when and if that happened—he’d have guaranteed access to all her care and associated details.
Vince actually found himself whistling when he got off the phone.
He hadn’t seen his parents before he’d left the house that morning, so after stopping to make sure there were no emergencies at Diver Downeast—where he got some brotherly razzing from Trask—Vince purposely headed back home to tell his mother all his good news.
“Vince,” she greeted as he walked in the door. “I didn’t expect to see you until tonight. Weren’t you supposed to work at the dive shop today?”
He normally worked on Saturdays so his married brothers could spend time with family. But…
“I switched shifts with Trask,” Vincent told her, coming over to kiss the top of her head.
All Ellen’s boys towered over her.
“I had a meet up with Stat this morning, where we went over the bathroom with a fine-toothed comb. Good news. He’s carving time out of his semi-busy schedule to get it done ASAP.”
“That’s great,” Ellen responded, then looked at him a little…cagily? “Do you, uh, have any idea when you might be moving out?”
“Ma,” Vince responded, exaggeratedly emphasizing the “A”. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
She chuckled. “No. But I am trying to sweetly boot you out of our nice guest suite you’ve been using since you felt stifled in your old room. We’re going to have company in a few days, and if you’re still here, I’ll have to ask you to move back into your childhood bedroom upstairs.”
“Not a problem,” he assured her, “if I’m still here.”
He opened the fridge to pull out the fixings for a sandwich.
Vince needed real food. The coffee he’d had was sloshing around in his stomach. “Who’s coming?”
“Friends of Tex. He called this morning and gave me a heads up. A nice young man he knows wants to visit Maine with his new wife,” she told Vince, taking the bread and cold cuts out of his hands and indicating that he should have a seat at the kitchen table while she put together his sandwich.
Yeah. His mother spoiled him. Vince loved it.
She kept talking. “The man’s name is Obadiah, but he goes by Obi-Wan,” she snickered. “You military people and your nicknames.” She shook her head.
His mother knew that Vince’s call sign was Maine-iac, which she thought was a riot.
“Anyway,” she continued, “Obi-Wan and his wife, Zita, are looking for a place where they can stay and keep their helicopter—”
“Helicopter?” Vince broke in curiously and excitedly, picking up an orange from the bowl on the table and peeling it.
“Oh. Did I forget to say? Tex says that Obi-Wan is a Night Stalker.”
Vincent laughed. Leave it to his mother.
Saying that a Night Stalker was a helicopter pilot, was like saying Beluga caviar was lunch food.
“Wow. That’s the best of the best, Mom,” he informed her.
Vince’s stomach growled as he ate a slice of orange.
His mother needed to hurry with that sandwich. Vince wasn’t sure putting citrus on top of the acid already roiling in his stomach was a smart idea. He needed some carbs, stat, to soak things up.
“You do know a Night Stalker is a big deal, right?” he continued.
Ellen made a phht sound, placing his finished sandwich in front of him. “Really, Vince?” she scoffed. “You were a SEAL, Trask was a regimental commander, Jett was a PJ, and Buck was a demolitions expert. Do you think one Night Stalker is going to be the person who dazzles me?”
“Point taken,” Vince placated. “But Night Stalkers are something special.”
He’d had his ass saved a time or two by one of those pilots who weaved unimaginable magic while flying impossible missions. “When are they due in?”
“Sometime early next week. Once I told Tex that they could stay here, and that we have a private airstrip out in back of the barns where they can land their helicopter—which of course he already knew—he said they’d be in touch this afternoon with their exact schedule.
And I was thinking,” she added as if she hadn’t already made up her mind to something.
“I wouldn’t mind it if you, your brothers, and their wives could show them the sights. ”
“I’d be happy to participate in that,” Vince agreed.
It wouldn’t be a hardship to take a fellow servicemember around the area. They’d probably enjoy hiking Cadillac Mountain in Adacia National Park. And of course, no one wanted to miss the thirty-one-foot statue of Paul Bunyon. Maybe they’d even set up a private viewing of the Duck of Justice…
“What does Zita do?” he asked curiously, shutting down his mental travelogue. The ladies would most likely be setting the agenda.
“She’s a paramedic.”
His mother sat down opposite him, and popped a piece of his orange into her mouth as he devoured his sandwich.
“Cool. I like them both already,” he said with his mouth full.
Ellen smacked his hand in jest. “Manners, young man.”
Vince laughed after he swallowed. There were some things that never changed.
“It sounds like they’ll fit right in,” Vince mused. All his sisters-in-law were strong women, and Zita being a paramedic, meant she probably also kicked ass. They’d get along just fine.
“So…?” his mother posed again, and Vince knew exactly what she was getting at.
“So,” he repeated, “here’s my move-out agenda,” Vince apprised. “Tentative, of course, at least until I clear things with Lace.”
Ellen nodded.
“I’ll be working tomorrow, so I won’t have a chance to pack things up, but on Monday I’m sure I can be finished gathering my stuff together in less than an hour.”
He didn’t have many belongings. Being in base housing for his entire adult life meant that personal items had been at a minimum. He had clothes, toiletries, a few mementos he’d picked up in his travels, and pictures of his SEAL team of course, always front and center, but that was about it.
Ellen looked relieved. “That will work out perfectly.”
Vince grinned at her. “Now do you want to hear something else you’ll like?”
“Of course,” she responded, giving him a happy, motherly smile.
“My application was approved by DHHS, and I’ve been given the link to take their online classes. Depending on how difficult it is,” Vince wasn’t expecting rocket science, “I’ll probably be able to complete everything this week, then we’re on to home visits by an assigned social worker.”
Ellen clapped her hands. “That is great news, Vince. I’m so happy for you. Have you told Lace, yet?”
“Nope. She’s working today, so I’ll try to touch base with her tonight when she gets home.”
“Working?” Ellen’s brow wrinkled. “It’s raining buckets out there,” she pointed out the window unnecessarily.
Vince laughed. “I get that. But you do know boats go out in all kinds of weather, Mom,” he reminded her. She’d lived in Maine all her life, so she wasn’t clueless.
“Yes,” she replied tartly. “But on the emergency radio channel I always listen to, they said that gale warnings have been posted.”
His mother monitored all local weather and emergency updates, knowing that her boys—police and divers—were more often than not involved with whatever rescue operations were taking place.
Vince’s gut tightened a bit at the mention of gales, but he reminded himself that Lace was with a seasoned crew, even if the captain was an asshole. “I’m sure they’re already headed in,” he told his mother.
He hoped that was true.
“If you—”
Whatever his mother had been about to say, was cut off when Vince’s phone chimed in his pocket.
He took it out, excited to see that he had a text message from Lace.
“This is her, now,” he told his mother, elated. Getting Lace’s text meant she was within a short distance of shore, since her phone had picked up a cell tower.
Lousy weather, her text read. Any chance you’re free this afternoon?
“You’re smiling,” Ellen pointed out unnecessarily.
“Yeah. Lace has got the afternoon off, and wants to know if I’m around.”
His fingers flew over his screen.
There’s nothing on my agenda, he tapped in. Meet at your house in an hour?
Nope. But I’ll meet you at “our” house in an hour,” she texted back cheekily.
He laughed, causing his mother to sit back and beam.
You got it, he replied. Food?
Yes, please. Any takeout will be good, but no onions on anything. I can’t stand them.
Not a deal breaker, he let her know.
He saw the bubbles dancing for her reply.
I knew I liked you for a reason. See you soon.
Vince sent a smiley face, then turned to his mother. “Gotta go.”
“Of course you do,” she said, standing and sweeping up his empty plate from the table. “Tell Lace I said hi. And bring her around for a visit sometime soon.”
“Will do, Mom. And thanks for lunch.”
She laughed. “You mean thanks for the snack. I’m assuming you’re picking up food for Lace which you will then be sharing.”
“Got it in one.” He winked, grabbing his rain jacket.
Vince practically flew out the door.
Yup. This day just kept getting better and better.