Chapter 4 – Grayson
CHAPTER FOUR
GRAYSON
“I hear congratulations are in order.” My mom’s smile grows wider with each passing second as she stares at me.
“For what?” I look to Luke, whose grin mysteriously matches hers.
“Luke told me all about being a finalist in?—”
“It isn’t happening, Mom. It’s most likely some marketing gimmick to save the whales or something and?—”
“And you have something against saving the whales?” Her hands are on her hips, and Luke’s snickering because that usually means someone’s in trouble.
“She said she thinks Dad has a real chance at winning,” Luke says excitedly.
“She?” My mom’s ears prick up and every part of me bristles as she bends over and puts her hands on her knees to be eye level with Luke. “Who is she?”
“Miss Sidney,” he continues. “She’s really pretty and nice and?—”
“No one.” I push Luke gently on one shoulder as my mom puts her hand on his other and holds him in place.
“He was just filling me in on things you won’t,” she says with a lift of her eyebrows and that look that tells me even if we don’t discuss this now, she’ll get it out of him the minute I leave.
Just what I need.
“Why don’t you go play with Moose,” I say, referring to my parents’ mammoth of a dog.
“There’s a vacation and money if he wins. A vacation, Nana! Maybe we could go to Disneyland!”
“How fun,” she says and smiles. He looks from me to her, shrugs, and then takes off down the hallway.
“No running in the house!” my mom calls out, and his feet slow to a hurried clomp before there’s a quick thumping of a tail. The behemoth of a dog winds up in excitement over seeing his most favorite human, and Luke’s laughter is loud as it carries into the kitchen.
“Who was this lady?”
“It doesn’t matter who she is because I’m not doing the contest.” I open the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water before sitting on one of the barstools that gives me a view of the backyard. “Thanks for taking Luke for a bit.”
When I turn to look at her, her hands are on her hips and an expression that tells me she isn’t buying a word of what I’m saying. “You should do the contest, and who is the lady?”
“I’m not doing the contest, and the lady is Sidney Thorton, as in Claire’s close friend in high school, Sidney Thorton. You happy?”
“Oh.” I take another sip and push around the unopened mail on the counter out of habit as she figures out what to say next. Recognition flickers in her eyes. I know she knows who Sidney is. “That shouldn’t stop you from participating. It might be fun.”
“Fun? No thanks. I have my reasons. Subject over.”
She stares at me, completely dissatisfied with my response but aware that our staring contest isn’t going to get her anywhere. I may be the peacekeeper in the family when it comes to others, but when it comes to my own personal matters, no one tells me how to handle them.
“Well, then,” she says as she grabs the sponge and starts wiping down the already clean counters to busy herself. It’s also her way to staunch the hurt I’ve just caused by not letting her mother me more. “So, uh, anything fun you’re headed off to do?”
I can’t help but laugh. After all that, of course, she reverts back to the classic Betsy Malone staple of conversation. When I don’t respond, she turns my way to let me know she’s already conjuring up stories about how I’m headed off to have a secret rendezvous with some mysterious woman.
“You already have a grandchild from me, and there sure as hell isn’t going to be another marriage in my future, so the things I’m headed off to do won’t interest you,” I say and wink to cut her and her constant quest for more Malones off at the pass.
“A mother can wish, can’t she?”
“You’ve had two weddings and added two more grandkids in the last three years. I think Grady and Grant are holding down the fort just fine for me.”
“And now I don’t need to worry about your brothers and can focus all my help on you. I heard you were out with what’s-her-name not too long back?”
She’s relentless, and I don’t need or want her help, but I humor her.
“What’s-her-name? She can’t be too important if you don’t even remember her name.” I chew on a smile, knowing I’m frustrating her.
“Anna Metz.”
“That was like three months ago.”
“Well, was there something wrong with her? Why’d you cut it off?”
I glance over to where Luke is playing in the backyard with Moose before leveling her with a stare.
“I’m not seeing anyone right now. I never am.”
“So, you just sleep with them, then? That’s no way to find a woman to settle down with.”
“No one said I was trying to settle down. Remember? I already tried that once. We both know how that turned out.” There’s bitterness in my tone that she doesn’t deserve.
But then again, I didn’t deserve what happened, either. To have the perfect life I swore we were headed toward blow up in my face all because of outside influence. And affluence . I’ll never put myself in that position again. I’ll never allow myself to strive for a happily ever after because that means I’d have to depend on someone else to get it.
“Not all women are like Claire, Gray.” Her hand is on my arm, her voice softens.
“Feels like I’m fucking surrounded by them these days,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Nothing. I know they aren’t, Mom. I know all women don’t walk away from a son when he’s a couple of months old and then go through the legal proceedings to terminate all parental rights. And most kids don’t ask every night if they’re ever going to have a mom and look for one in every woman their father talks to. I know settling down might be good for me, but I can’t put Luke through the false hope every damn time.”
“Having a woman around might be good for him.”
“We’ve been over this. You’ve seen it with your own eyes. Any woman I bring into my life, Luke becomes attached to. I can’t risk him being crushed when we call it off. He’s had more heartbreak than most kids should ever have to go through. So I get it, Mom. I appreciate that you’re trying to tell me to have a life outside of being a parent . . . but not right now. Not when he’s this young. Not when trust is an issue for him as much as it is for me.”
“The only way to combat a lack of trust is to invite someone into your life and show him how to trust.”
“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I would love for him to have a mother who could take him to the million school activities that all the other moms are at, so he doesn’t feel left out? I do, but I’m not there yet.”
“I’ll go with him. Any time. You just tell me when.”
My sigh is heavy and is matched by Luke’s laughter outside. I stare at him, at this perfect piece of me, and hate that he suffers because I couldn’t make Claire happy enough to stay.
Then again, I don’t think anything was more important to her than her .
“I know you will, and I appreciate it. But it isn’t the same.”
“I know.” Her hand rests on my arm as we both watch him roll around while Moose tries to lick every inch of his face. “Then, you go with him to those mother functions. You’re as much his mother as you are his father.”
“That’s comical.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I know you are. It’s just . . .”
“It’s hard balancing being a parent and being a person, being a single man. You aren’t alone, though. There are tons of single parents—men and women—who face the same exact thing as you are, and they don’t give up. They can’t. It’s their mini-me beside them who’s looking up to them and preventing them from giving up.”
I meet her eyes and see the compassion there. I know she means well, but some conversations are better not had with your mother. Like ones about sex and how casual it is or isn’t. “I have a lot of shit on my plate right now, Mom. A lot. The last thing I need to do is get involved with someone.”
“You’ll be back to work before you know it.”
“I shouldn’t be suspended from flying to begin with.”
“You always were one to take risks.” Her eyes meet mine, and I can tell she wishes she could take this all away for me, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I had to.
“In my job, I have to. That’s how I save lives.”
“You took off when you were told not to, Gray. You disobeyed orders.”
“Are you siding with them now? Christ .” I shove a hand through my hair and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“No. I’m a cop’s wife,” she says and winks as if I didn’t know it. “I understand that sometimes the line needs to be blurred. But I also know there are supervisors for a reason.”
Silence settles between us, and I push out a deep breath. There is no reason for me to be upset with her because, like before, I know she’s right. “How did we get on this topic?”
“Because you’re trying to find a reason why you aren’t dating. You’ll always have an excuse. Quit closing yourself off. Look at your brothers. They both found happiness when they were least expecting it. Love will come to you, too.”
“I have to get going.”
“That was a subtle way to change the topic,” she says, and her smile is back and genuine.
“You caught that, did you?” I head toward the front door.
“Do the contest.”
And my only response is to shut the front door behind me.
* * *
The base smells like cinnamon when I walk in, and that means Cochran must be here. There’s a half-played game of chess on the table. A bowl of pistachio shells sits beside it, and two half-empty bottles of water next to that. Chairs are askew. The television is still on. The scanner and its constant chatter is a low hum of background noise from the corner.
Time has stood still.
Someone, somewhere needed the three-man crew to help save their life. Their injuries undoubtedly too serious to wait for an ambulance to take them to the hospital when our helicopters can do it in half the time.
I feel like a fish out of water—a bystander looking at my life that has been put on hold. I itch to get up in the air again. I’m antsy to do what I’ve spent years training for—to save people who need to be rescued.
And I can’t.
I’ve been handcuffed by politics and red tape and a simple risk I took that cost someone their life.
A risk that was needed.
Feeling out of place and almost like I’m snooping by just being here, I move over to the schedule board. Extra shifts and overtime, each person having to pick up a bit of the slack my absence has created.
“Spiderman!” Cochran’s raspy voice calls as he heads my way—the call sign Luke unknowingly made for me a few years back when he saw my red and black helmet during his Spiderman phase.
“How’s it going?”
“Same ol’, same ol’.” He shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the doorjamb. He looks at the schedule and back to me as if he already knows what I’m going to say before the words clear my lips.
“Looks to me like you are paying a shit-ton on overtime here. Overworking your staff. Take me off desk duty over at dispatch and let me fly. It’ll help alleviate some of the pressure on them and give me back my sanity.”
His expression turns solemn. “You know I can’t do that, man.”
“How long are you going to keep my wings clipped?” Irritation creeps into my voice, and I clench a fist in silent protest.
“Until Internal Affairs concludes its findings.”
“Fucking Christ. I’m spinning my wheels sitting at a desk.”
“I know, but you broke the rules.”
“You’re goddamn right I did. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I had to.”
“And that’s exactly why you’re grounded. You take too many risks. First bucking protocol by flying. Then by switching hospitals en route. Someone died because of your decision.”
“She was going to die whether I switched destinations or not.”
“We have rules for a reason. That’s why you’re riding a desk at dispatch—so you understand the chaos on our end and why we need those rules and that protocol. That’s a five-million-dollar helicopter you’re taking chances with.”
“And my job is to save lives with it. What good does it do if I’m told I can’t do that?”
“The rules are there to keep everyone on the team alive, and you know it. If the team is compromised because one man can’t follow the rules, then people die.”
I rake a hand through my hair. Frustration and guilt and humility strobe inside me.
“Deep breath, Malone. It will all be over soon.”
“Not soon enough.” I blow out an exaggerated sigh as the scanner goes off and reminds me of the adrenaline rush I’ve been without for the past month. It’s the way Cochran’s brown eyes bore into mine that has me asking the question. “Do you believe I did the right thing?”
“We’ve been over this.” He sounds just as exasperated as I feel.
“And you’ve never answered.”
“Gray . . .”
“We’ve been over this with other people present. Now it’s just you and me. Do you think I fucked up?”
“It was risky.”
“I always take risks. I wouldn’t be good at my job if I didn’t. The question is whether we’d even be having this conversation if the patient had lived? Would the risk have been worth it? Ask yourself that one, and when you have an answer, you’ll know I did the right thing. End of goddamn story.”
“I have your back.” It’s all he says, but when our eyes meet, his are a silent mess of contradictions that I can’t read and don’t leave me any steadier than his words did.
“Then let me get back up in the air and do my job.” With a shake of my head and one last look at the schedule that doesn’t have my name on it, I walk away from everything that is comforting to me.
I drive aimlessly. I have a list a mile long of shit to do—groceries, new cleats for Luke, stop in to dispatch to get my schedule—but I don’t do any of it.
Right now, I just need a fucking breather. No son. No thoughts. No goddamn gray cloud looming over my head.
As I hit the highway, I look over toward Miner’s Airfield and see a helicopter lifting up. Fucking Christ. Why not throw what I’m missing right in my face? I jerk the wheel to the side of the road and just watch it.
My job saved me back then. After Claire left, when my mind was in the constant loop asking how she could walk away. And it was a curse. My twenty-four-hour shifts pulled me away from Luke and had me worried the whole time that he thought I’d abandoned him, too.
Of course, a five-month-old wouldn’t think that, but it fucked with my head during the downtime while I sat in that room I’d just left and waited for another call to come in. The next emergency.
Strangely enough, each life we saved, saved me a bit, too.
I could still rescue people.
I could still be the best damn father I could be.
Her leaving us couldn’t rob me of that.