CHAPTER EIGHT
W hitney rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she shuffled into the kitchen. She went to bed before Daisy but was unsurprised to find the other woman in a cheerful mood. “Good morning,” she said as she covered her yawn.
Daisy whirled around, the trim of her apron catching on a drawer handle. “Morning, sugar! Did you sleep well?”
Whitney nodded and fell into her chair. Daisy filled a mug with coffee and slid the much-needed caffeine fix across the table. After adding a spoonful of sugar and enough cream to make it the color of toffee, she slurped and sighed. “Yes, but this will help me wake up.”
“Trevor texted—the boys are needed at the station early, so it’s us chickens in the hen house this morning. You thinking French toast or eggs?” Daisy tapped her chin and studied the array of ingredients on the counter.
Whitney took another sip of coffee before standing and surveying the scene. “I’m thinking you sit down and let me cook for you.” Daisy fidgeted and looked ready to protest, when Whitney begged, “Please? You’ve done so much for me already.”
“Oh, all right. But that means I do the dishes.”
Whitney shot a thumbs-up and began cracking eggs. She wasn’t a horrible cook, but she knew she couldn’t hold a candle to the delights Daisy and Trevor had already whipped up in this kitchen.
“You know,” Whitney cleared her throat, not wanting to overstep with an observation. “When I got up last night to get a cup of tea, you weren’t in. Your girls’ night go long?” She glanced over her shoulder as Daisy took her seat at the table. She filled her own coffee cup and hummed a moment.
“Everything is lovely, sugar. Dinner with Joan and Kim was great, but I was out with another friend after that.”
Whitney wasn’t blind, and she certainly wasn’t a fool. She recognized that glint and dreamy expression anywhere ... even if she hadn’t seen it on her face in far too long.
“Wait a minute,” Whitney gasped. “Were you out with a man last night, Daisy?”
Daisy’s smile only grew with the question. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was.”
Whitney giggled as she dropped a fat pat of butter in a frying pan. After scrambling the eggs, she scattered on some cheddar and chives, then slowly combined the mixture together. “You need to spill, because I’m sorely in need of gossip.”
Trailing her finger across the wood grain on the table, Daisy hummed to herself. “Well now,” she said, attention focused on the tabletop, “I haven’t told Trevor the details, but I’m overdue for some girl talk.”
“I won’t tell a soul. I’m a vault.” Whitney crossed her heart with her finger and beamed. She was quickly growing fond of these times with Daisy. Having her own momma far away and Winnie busy didn’t leave a lot of interactions like this in Whitney’s life. Regardless if she stayed a while in Pinegrove, she made a promise to herself to keep relationships like these.
Daisy sighed, shoulders relaxing as she began to tell her, their story. “Well, I was out last night with Paul Warren. He’s the fire chief and an old friend of the family.”
Whitney pushed a couple slices of bread into the toaster and found an array of jams to put on the table. By the time the toast popped up, she’d plated a sunny pile of eggs. Refilling their coffees, she joined Daisy and settled in for girl talk. “How long have you and Paul known each other?”
“Oh, since high school. We all grew up here in Pinegrove. Paul and his ex-wife, Patti, were high school sweethearts, like me and Nick. Then he and Nick went to the academy together after graduation and the rest is history. Nick was chief for a decade before his heart attack, and Paul was always his captain.”
“That must be so hard for both of you, losing Nick so suddenly.” Whitney sympathized with grief, even though she had never lost a partner. Enough family members had passed to leave a void; their absences felt acutely by those left behind.
Daisy patted Whitney’s arm. “Thank you, you’re so sweet to listen to me prattle on.” Taking a bite of her eggs, she said, “And this is delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, how did we go from friends to whatever happened last night?” Whitney winked.
“Well, Paul and Patti divorced about ten years ago. It was one of those things where we were all sad, but no one was surprised. You know what I mean?”
“Painfully,” Whitney agreed through a mouthful of eggs. “I’m betting that’s how my parents and sister felt about Baxter.”
Daisy leveled Whitney with a glare. “We both know that meathead is more dog than man, but I see your point.”
Whitney slathered strawberry jam on her toast and marveled at how the mention of Baxter was causing less and less pain. Sure, she was still embarrassed and hurt over his betrayal, but it was quickly becoming a memory rather than a wound.
“When did things start to shift for you and Paul?”
“About six months ago? It was an ordinary Wednesday evening, and Paul stopped by after a bad day at the station. He was struggling with city council over funding and some position changes, including Trevor’s, and he wanted a sympathetic ear.” Daisy smiled to herself. “Those are the types of interactions I miss the most with Nick, the everyday ones where you share the burden, or the joy, of the day.”
Whitney nodded, not wanting to interrupt Daisy’s story.
“So, I asked him if he’d like to stay for dinner. Coincidentally I was making pork chops, which I know are his favorite. One minute we were talking and eating, the next he was helping with the dishes and sharing a bottle of wine on the deck. When it came time to leave for the night, we hugged each other, which was nothing new, mind you, but the way I felt afterwards was. I wasn’t looking at Paul and thinking friend. I looked at Paul and thought man. ”
Leaning forward in her seat, Whitney couldn’t contain her giddiness. “Then what happened?”
Daisy’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of peach as she glanced into the distance. “Either my pork chops were better than I realized, or Paul felt it too, because he came back the next day with flowers and the fixings for lasagna, which is my favorite dinner.”
Whitney clapped and squealed like a teenager at a Friday night football game. “Oh my gosh, he didn’t! That is so romantic, I can’t stand it.” She fanned herself with her napkin.
“It was, and we started dating. Granted, nothing grand or showy, because we don’t want the town or our families in our business just yet. But things are getting serious, and I want to tell Jessie and Trevor. They’re my family, and I want them to share in this.”
A cozy sensation rippled over Whitney at this news, at knowing a secret about her new friend. “Thank you for telling me. I’m honored you trust me with something so special.” Whitney reached across the table and squeezed Daisy’s hand.
She covered Whitney’s with her other hand, tears brimming in her eyes. “Thank you for listening, and more importantly, for coming into my life at the perfect time. I didn’t appreciate how much I needed a new friend until you, Whitney.”
Now it was Whitney’s turn to fight back tears. “Oh, Daisy.” She sniffed, wiping her cheek with her napkin. “I feel the same way, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She shook herself back to the moment and squared her shoulders.
“Yes?” Daisy’s eyes were pinched, her smile fading fast.
“I’ve decided I’m going to take the job at Kim’s shop. I don’t know what that means in the long run, but I’m not ready to leave Pinegrove yet.”
Daisy whooped and jumped in the air, her chair skittering across the tiled floor. Gus heard the commotion and sauntered into the kitchen. Finding no danger, or more importantly, no treats, he sniffed the air twice before going back out to the living room.
“But!” Whitney shouted over the sound of Daisy’s tap dance routine. “I want to discuss something with you first.”
Daisy slumped back into her seat and frowned. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.” She pouted.
“If I stay here—” Whitney started.
“Which you can, for as long as you’d like,” Daisy interrupted.
“I’d like to pay rent and help with the groceries. I don’t want to take advantage of anyone, but especially you and Trevor.”
Daisy nodded. “Fine, that seems fair. Rent is ten dollars a week.”
“Daisy, be serious. We can negotiate something once I speak with Kim about salary, but I want to earn my keep.”
“Fine, fine.” Daisy rose and started collecting dirty dishes. “If you’re truly worried about helping out around here, it looks like Gus is ready to have a moment of nature.” She raised an eyebrow as Gus loped back into the kitchen and barked, his tail flapping against the doorframe.
“I’m on it. Come on, Gus!” She leaned down to rub his jowls before clipping on his leash. On the way out the door, she grabbed her cell phone, ready to tell Winnie her news.
Despite the early hour, the Georgia sun turned the outside into an oven. June was winding down, but the oppressive heat was here to stay. By the time Gus and Whitney reached the end of the driveway, her shirt was already stuck to her back. She dialed Winnie and cradled the phone to her neck, her attention split between the call and the hound currently smelling anything in his path.
“Whit? You okay? I only have a second.”
Whitney relaxed at the sound of her sister’s voice. “Yes, everything is fine. Great, actually.”
There were voices in the background and Winnie’s breaths as she walked. “Sorry, I’m heading into a client meeting, and I’m late.”
“That’s not like you.” Whitney observed, knowing her sister’s penchant for setting not two, but four alarms every morning.
Winnie was quiet for a moment before the other line quieted. “I may have spent the night at someone’s place last night,” she said, voice dripping with excitement.
“Win! Who are they?” Whitney squealed, startling Gus as he was about to leave his mark on a neighbor’s unsuspecting mailbox.
“Her name is Mari, and we met at a young professional’s mixer last month. She’s on this retreat with the other firms.”
Whitney couldn’t resist the sisterly dig. “You’re still considered a young professional?”
“Easy there, I’m still young enough to whoop your butt.” Whitney didn’t doubt it, so she clamped her mouth shut. “Mari is a paralegal, and we bonded over our love of the legal system, pralines, and Netflix documentaries. I’m seeing her again for dinner tonight.”
Winnie’s dating history varied over the years, depending on her schooling and career. Law school and making partner were Winnie’s chief priorities, which meant dating long term wasn’t always easy.
“Sounds like Mari’s perfect for you,” Whitney said, her grin spreading at her sister’s happiness.
Lawyer Winnie came out to play. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but yeah. Mari’s cool, and I like her.” The background noise grew louder and Winnie sighed. “I need to get to this meeting, but you’re okay?”
“I really am. I got a job here in Pinegrove, at a boutique downtown. I’m going to rent a room from Daisy and stick around for a little while.” She bit her lip, nervously waiting for Winnie’s reaction.
“You’re thinking of staying there?”
“For a little while. Kim, the shop owner, needs help with the Fourth of July tourist crowd, and I need a little cash to tie me over.”
“I can send you money,” Winnie offered, as quickly as Whitney anticipated.
“I know you can, but that’s not what I want. Let me figure this out.”
Winnie sighed into the phone, her big-sister status on full display. “Does this have anything to do with a certain fireman?”
Whitney stopped as Gus did his business, carefully scooping up the mess while holding onto his leash and her phone. Her demonstration of acrobatics was witnessed by a group of elderly walkers, waving from the other side of the street. She waved back and nearly tripped over Gus as she tossed the bag into a nearby trashcan.
“No,” Whitney said, the lie bitter on her tongue. Well, maybe it wasn’t technically a lie, but it certainly wasn’t the truth. She liked Trevor, and while she didn’t know where that feeling was going, she was along for the ride while it lasted. Perhaps a change of scenery and a new job could bring her closer to herself?
“I’m choosing not to believe you, but I don’t have time to argue. If this makes you happy, and since I know Daisy isn’t the next Ted Bundy, I’ll allow it.”
“Thank you, Counselor.”
“You tease me, but it’s my job to look out for you.”
“I don’t know if it’s your job, but it’s certainly your favorite hobby,” Whitney teased, directing Gus back toward Daisy’s house. Back to her temporary home.
“Be safe and keep me posted on everything, okay? I want to know when you’re coming back. Xena and I need you.”
“We’ve established, Xena hates me and you probably miss your own space.” Whitney wasn’t ready to think about coming back to Savannah. Things were finally starting to turn around; there hardly seemed any rush.
“I really gotta run, but you know Xena loves you. And so do I!”
“Love you, too. Have fun with Mari tonight, you deserve it.”
Winnie hung up, leaving Whitney and Gus to walk in silence the last block home. When they reached the porch, he barked and rolled onto his back, legs akimbo ready for his belly rubs.
“Silly doggo.” She laughed, rubbing his tummy.
Daisy opened the front door and stepped outside, ready for her day in khakis and a sleeveless blouse. Her hair was tucked up under another straw hat, her smile was infectious. “How do you feel about a trip to Kim’s shop and then the Cracked Spine? I want to show you the romance section after you and Kim finalize everything for your job.”
Whitney nodded, eager to get her hands on a new book. In her haste to leave Savannah, her romance book collection was the only thing she really missed. Sorry, Xena!
“Give me thirty minutes to get ready?”
“You can have forty-five.” Daisy held the door for Gus to follow them inside.
Whitney got ready for her day with a sense of hope she hadn’t realized she was missing. The people of Pinegrove had opened their arms to her, and she appreciated their kindness more than they knew. Meeting Daisy at her car, Whitney barely contained her enthusiasm as she drove into town with her new friend. Life was good, and she was going to savor the moment.
*
T revor was disappointed he and Javi didn’t have time for breakfast at his mother’s house, as he was dying to see Whitney again. Plus, a short stack on the way to a grueling day never hurt. Alas, it wasn’t to be, and he and Javi rolled in as the chief and captain strolled out of their offices with matching worried expressions.
“Team!” Chief Warren called out, his voice booming over the busy bullpen. “Gather round, we’re having a huddle and getting new assignments.” He opened his mouth to continue, but Hastings cut him off.
“Who has the budget reports for the city council meeting?”
Chief cocked an eyebrow. “The budgets were approved last month, Hastings. What are you needing them for?”
Hastings blinked, swallowing hard before he laughed. To the untrained ear it might have been carefree, but Trevor had worked with him enough to spot the tension in his gaze.
“Nothing, Chief. Just wanted to get a jump start on planning next year.” He ran a hand over his head, causing his hair to stick up in all directions.
“Maybe you can tweak the budget and get yourself a new haircut, Cap,” Javi teased.
Anyone in the huddle could see Hastings was agitated. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and his lips were drawn tight in a frown that would have been comical under other circumstances. His eyes darted over the team as the chief spoke, almost like he was planning a hasty retreat.
“My haircut is fine, Ortiz. Maybe we should look at the budget and hire someone who—”
“Knock it off,” Chief barked. “Hastings, don’t worry about the budget. I need you on the reports on zoning. Remember?” Hastings nodded, then darted back to his office and slammed the door. Chief had been asking for those zoning reports for months, and it was just one of many little projects Trevor wanted to help with. He had the background knowledge and the desire to learn, whereas Hastings had a short temper and was as dumb as a post.
Pushing Trevor from his spiral, the chief knocked his knuckles on a clipboard. “Here’s our next round of assignments. Come on over and see what’s planned for this schedule rotation.”
Smithy joined Javi and Trevor, handing them each a donut. “I picked these up on my way in and hid them from Hastings. That idiot tried to steal the last two jellies, and I just about lost it.”
“Thanks, Smithy,” Trevor said, biting into his donut and narrowly avoiding getting jam on his uniform shirt.
“What’s on everyone’s agenda today?” Javi asked, dusting powdered sugar off his hands.
Maxwell joined them, holding up the clipboard and beaming at Trevor. “We’re on inventory duty, dude!”
“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, but half-heartedly. “Let’s get counting.”
Smithy and Javi gave him supportive grins, but Trevor knew they were just as fed up with the current situation as anyone. It was the lamest of grunt work, but at least it kept him away from Hastings. Plus, he liked working with Maxwell. Her positive attitude was a welcome counterbalance to his newfound surliness.
Twenty minutes into color-coding a rather impressive Excel spreadsheet, Chief Warren appeared at his desk. “You got a minute, son?” he asked, hands clasped behind his back.
“Absolutely.” Trevor saved his file and stood, biting his tongue so he didn’t say what he really wanted to. All I’ve got is time ...
Turning to Maxwell, he asked, “You mind merging those two spreadsheets? It’ll help us when we count the uniforms in storage.”
She shot a thumbs-up and slid into his seat, seemingly enthralled with her assignment.
“Good work, Maxwell,” Chief said before turning back to Trevor. “Let’s chat in my office.”
The chief’s normally confident gait slowed the nearer they got to his office. Trevor swallowed past the lump in his throat, fearing he was about to get another blow to his career.
Chief Warren held the door for Trevor, who immediately sat down. The shaking in his knees gave away his current mental state. He balled his hands into fists and rested them on his lap, praying his pulse slowed.
Taking longer than necessary to close the door and walk around to his own seat, the chief sighed. “Let me start by saying, I’m aware that those zoning reports were due last month.”
“Um. Yes, I believe they were.” Trevor’s ears perked up, but he wanted to hear the chief’s perspective.
Resting his elbows on the desk, Chief Warren dipped his head and groaned. “What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this office.” Trevor bit down on his tongue, nodding until the chief spoke again. “It’s a God damn quagmire, if you’ll excuse my language. Hastings is an idiot, Trevor. The man can’t use Excel, I don’t think he knows how to attach files to email, and yesterday he asked me who my boss was.”
Chief rarely swore, and he attended church regularly. He’d never seen the other man so flustered. “Sir?”
Flapping his hands again, he leaned back in his chair. “Cut the ‘sir’ for now. I’m Paul, and you’re Trevor.”
“Okay?” Trevor tried to stop the bouncing in his legs, but it was no use.
“I know it may not appear like it, but I am trying to figure out your role here, son. City council has their say, but there are ways for you to move up the ranks. I’m also trying to figure out what to do with a captain who isn’t qualified.”
Trevor squeezed his eyes shut, sensing where this was going. “So city council hires a moron and I get transferred?” He was incredulous. “You’re really going through with it—you’re going to transfer me to another station, aren’t you?”
Chief opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I can’t give specifics yet, but I’m doing everything I can to make this right. You’d make an excellent captain, Trevor. We both know that. I need you to trust me.” His eyes pleaded with him to see sense, but Trevor was still too bitter.
“Is there anything else, sir?” Trevor put his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning forward to get the hell out of this office. His gut churned with frustration but also annoyance. Deep in his bones he understood that Chief Warren didn’t get to make the final decision, but it didn’t change Trevor’s current situation. At the end of the day, Trevor wasn’t reaching his professional potential, and he was sick of pretending he was okay with that reality.
“Actually, there is, son, but it’s a personal matter.”
“Personal?” Trevor asked, just as dispatch announced through the overhead speakers, “ Fire in progress, Station 33 respond with engines and medic.”
Trevor was already to the doorway, when Chief said, “We’ll finish this conversation later.”
Following some of the other firefighters to the garage, Trevor pulled on his bunker gear in less than a minute and hopped in the truck. Javi was behind the wheel, laser-focused as Trevor navigated to the scene. Fortunately, it was a minor fender bender with a car that was merely smoking, not burning. Smithy assessed the damage while Trevor helped with directing traffic away from the scene.
One of the little old ladies from church, Mrs. Neely, walked by with her poodle and spotted Trevor. “Trevor? What’s all this?” she asked as she lumbered over to him, the dog barely keeping pace. If Mrs. Neely was in her eighties, that hound had to be nearly two thousand in dog years.
“Hello, Mrs. Neely. How are you doing today?”
“Oh, you know, dear. Mr. Puddles and I love our walks.” She gestured down at the poodle, who looked prepared to meet his maker. Tail barely wagging and tongue lolling out the side, he looked ready for a nap and a guzzle of water.
“I bet you do,” he replied, one eye fixed on the flow of traffic. When there was a break in cars, he held up his hand. “I’ll be right back, wait here.”
He sprinted to the truck and retrieved a pair of water bottles. Not only did Mr. Puddles need a drink, he wagered the older woman was dehydrated in this heat. “Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” Mrs. Neely cooed as she took the first bottle and whistled for her dog. Pouring water into a gap in the sidewalk, Mr. Puddles lapped up the water, his tail finally shifting back and forth.
“Much better,” Trevor said. “Do you need a ride back, Mrs. Neely? You’re a ways from home, aren’t you?”
She waved away his concern with the empty water bottle. “No, I’m visiting with Douglas over on Maple.”
“That’s nice,” he said, taking a step to go back to work. He’d helped her and her dog, but he didn’t have time for neighborhood gossip.
“It is nice, love after loss is always a pleasant surprise.”
“Love?” Her admission caught Trevor off guard, and he nearly stumbled into Mr. Puddles.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Yes, young man, I said love. Women after fifty can fall in love, look at your momma.”
“Momma?” Trevor was incredulous, thrusting his hands on his hips. “What are you saying, Mrs. Neely?”
The old woman threw her head back and laughed, startling poor Mr. Puddles. “Oh, darlin’, that’s not my story to tell.” She patted his cheek as if he were misbehaving in Sunday School before shuffling off toward Maple Drive.”
Love.
Love?
Trevor pushed through the fog of her comment until he reached the truck. He knew his mother and the chief were seeing each other in some capacity, but to smack the L word on it seemed rushed. Taking his momma out for a low country boil is one thing, but love brought a whole new slew of fears Trevor didn’t anticipate.
Javi joined him and updated him on the status of the accident, taking Trevor out of his ongoing turmoil. “We’re set to go, Lieutenant.”
“Why do I have a feeling I’m missing something?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“With the fender bender?”
“No, with ... never mind.”
Javi shrugged. “Dunno, man, but let’s roll. The cops have traffic moving, and I’m ready for lunch. Smithy said the injuries are minor, no hospitalization needed.”
Trevor followed the rest of the team back to the truck and sighed. He loved the job, even the silly parts like hydrating ugly dogs and their quirky owners, but he couldn’t shake the fact that something was happening right before his eyes.
Keeping his head down for the rest of his shift, Trevor left right on time and headed for his momma’s house. He wanted to have dinner with the two ladies in his life, but he also wanted to know what in the world Mrs. Neely was talking about.
Trevor prayed he’d like the answer. Momma deserved every happiness, but falling in love again? He wasn’t a boy, and he knew no one would replace his father or the memories they all shared. Perhaps his hesitation was that he was stuck, barely treading water in his life.
Although, if Daisy Mays could find love again, maybe there was hope for him after all.