27. Jeb
Chapter twenty-seven
Jeb
The smile I had in the truck after spending the morning on the medic is short-lived when I get home from the station, only to find that the basement’s flooded. Heavy rain and a broken sump pump are all it takes for the carpet to slosh under my feet. There’s probably about an inch of water throughout the whole place.
The carpet’s trashed. I fix the pump—the float was stuck. It’s an easy fix, but the clean-up is bound to take all day. Two at a time, I skip the stairs to make my way to the main level. I hope Lucky’s up here. She normally is. I haven’t seen the cat in two days. My mom has treats and toys out the ass for her, plus she lets her sleep in the bed.
I spot Lucky sound asleep on a cat bed on the couch, so I grab the wet vac and trudge back down the stairs, lugging it behind me. I could use some help to move everything that’s touching the wet floor and put it up high, but my parents are watching my nieces today. Fuck, this is a mess.
I haul a basket of sopping wet clothes and bedding up the stairs to start a load of laundry and grab a large fan—the one my mom has in her workout room, my old bedroom.
Hey, I’m going to be late. The whole basement flooded.
Fallon and I were supposed to hang out today, like we did two Sundays ago, but the torrential downpour isn’t conducive for fishing or painting, anyway.
I grab the rug in the kitchenette and toss it outside. I vacuum an area, then dump the water into the sump pump, vacuum, dump, vacuum, dump. When I finally get a semi-dry space, I plug the fan in and put it on the counter, facing the floor.
Eventually, I hear a knock at the back basement door, and I wonder if my dad came home early from watching the girls. When I open the back slider, it’s not my dad. It’s Fallon, bundled in a black raincoat with the hood over her head and drawstrings pinched tight.
“Don’t bother trying to wipe your feet off,” I say, gesturing to the squishy carpet.
Fallon shrugs out of her coat, water droplets raining onto the carpet.
“I guess I’ll leave my boots on for now. They should be clean, just wet.”
“Probably a good idea if you want your socks to stay dry,” I say, half smiling.
“How did this happen?”
“Sump pump,” I say, shrugging. “All the water backed up to the floor.”
She lifts the kitchen chairs and stacks them on top of the table. She continues vacuuming while I run upstairs to switch the laundry over and add the towels we used to soak up the water around the furniture's legs.
It takes about two hours, but if I had done it all by myself, it would’ve been double. The floor is still slightly damp, but I found another fan and have all of ceiling ones on, too. Hopefully it dries out by tonight, although I have a feeling the carpet is ruined. It already smells like a damp musty forest mixed with old socks.
I haven’t had a chance to talk to Fallon since she’s been here, with the vacuum running practically the whole time. And now that I finally have a chance to breathe, I can admit I missed being around her. I haven’t seen her since Wednesday.
“Come to my house?” she offers.
“That sounds like a good idea. I could use a break from all this.”
I change my clothes and we drive separately to Fallon’s, then both run toward the deck in the monsoon.
“Finally, a dry spot. It felt like I was in the rainforest for a minute,” I say. “Thanks for helping me today. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem.” She leans on the picnic table on the deck. “It’s gonna feel good to get out of these boots.”
I watch as Fallon toes her shoes and her socks off. I unlace my boots off and leave them by the door, too. A weird feeling bubbles in my stomach when I see our shoes next to each other.
“Want something to eat? I have a frozen pizza I can heat up.”
“That sounds great to me, but I can run to the store and pick up some things if you’d rather have something else.”
“No, I’ll stick the pizza in, and we can relax.”
“I haven’t eaten anything besides a donut at the station this morning, so anything will hit the spot. Thanks so much.”
“How was work today?” We’ve texted a few times this week. Fallon knows I’m riding the ambulance a few hours here and there.
“It was like old times. I ended up working five hours this morning and could have done more, but my captain wants me to work my way up to it, and I agree.”
“I’m so proud of you, Jeb. I don’t know if they’ve said it, but I’m sure all the guys at the station are, too. I don’t know if I’d be able to ride an ambulance after everything that’s happened, and I wasn’t even at the accident.”
Hearing Fallon say she’s proud of me makes my blood heat.
“So I have some news,” she says as I plop onto the couch. She opens the door to the oven, sticking the pizza in. “I’m going to Turks and Caicos with Shay for ten days.”
Her eyebrows lift in excitement, but her face drops immediately after. I’m sure a big trip would be pretty emotional for her. It would be for me.
“Awesome, Fal. That sounds like a fun time. When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow.” She looks up at me, waiting for a response.
“Wow. Are you packed? Do you need a ride to the airport?”
It hits me that not only will I miss her, but I’ll be worried about her when she’s gone. Ten days in a foreign country with Shay sounds like a dream, but anything could go wrong and I wouldn’t be able to get there to help.
My chest tightens, waiting for her answers. I have about a thousand other questions but I don’t want to bombard her.
“I’m packed. Got a lot of cute new bathing suits to wear. No, Shay’s company is paying for overnight parking at the airport, so she’s going to come over tonight, spend the night, and then we will leave early tomorrow.”
“That sounds like a good plan. Do you have your flight info? Where are you staying?” I try to make my questions seem as casual as possible to keep my mind from picturing her new cute suits. I’m pretty sure I fail.
“I’ll send you the same email Shay sent me. Her company is paying for literally everything. She asked me if I’d be her plus-one on Wednesday after you left, so it’s been a whirlwind.”
“Sounds like it! I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get home.”
She worries her bottom lip and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve looked, and the weather seems good. Shay has some meetings, but for the rest of it, we’ll sit by the water and hit the swim-up bar. Her company has us scheduled for a couple’s massage, so that should be fun. I’m kind of nervous, but once we get there, I know I’ll be fine.”
While we eat, Fallon sits on the opposite side of the couch and tells me everything she has researched about Turks and Caicos—the weather (perfect), the wildlife (iguanas and sea turtles), the number of pools at the resort (seven). She’ll work while she’s there, but only on the days that Shay has meetings. It should be really good for her to get out and relax a bit with her best friend.
After we eat, I decide to head out and get myself situated to spend the night on my parents’ couch. Shay should be here in a little bit, and I’m not sure Fallon has told her about me. I’d like to avoid another jumpscare.
“Here’s a key to the house,” she says when I walk into the kitchen. “In case you need anything. Corbin came this morning to take the cats while I’m away, so no one has to check on them. But if you need to hang out here or use the house while I’m away, go for it.”
“I knew something was missing. Tuck comes to see me every time I’m here.” I laugh awkwardly, picking up one of my shoes. “And why would I need to hang out here while you’re away?”
“Oh, like, in case you need a new carpet or something, instead of sleeping upstairs at your parents’ you could always come here.” She steps closer, then walks past me to the other side of the island.
I hide my relief. I thought she knew how much I’d miss her and offered the key so I could hang out here to feel closer to her while she was away.
“Thank you for the offer. I guess I’ll see how dry the carpet is when I get home. It’s probably due to come up soon, anyway.” I slip my boot on, then grab my neck and stretch it side to side. Just thinking about the week ahead without Fallon, plus the possibility of a carpet tear-out project, has me in a mood. I’ve gotten good at faking happiness, so Fallon has no idea I’m nervous about her trip.
“Oh, shit. I just thought about my mail. Do you think you can grab it if you jog by? Just like a couple of times? Not every day.” She rounds the other side of the island, coming closer to me, and leans against it.
“Yes, for sure. It’s no big deal.” I slip my other boot on.
“Thanks. Hopefully, I haven’t forgotten anything else. My houseplants should be fine. I got one of those extended watering bulbs, but if you can check on them just once, that would be great.” She grabs my jacket from the hook.
“I can do that. Not a problem. Anything else, just text me.” I take the coat when she hands it to me.
“Thanks, Jeb. I really appreciate it.” She inches closer again but side-steps around me to pull the door handle.
“I hope you have a great trip. You deserve some R&R.” I slide my arms into my jacket and zip it.
“Thanks. I’m sure I will. I’ll miss Jubilee, though.” She opens the wooden door and blocks the storm door simultaneously.
“It will miss you, too. Enjoy the trip. Jubilee will be here when you get back.”
I reach the door handle, but Fallon grabs it first. My hand lands on top of hers, and I pull it back as if it has been burned.
“Can I get a hug first?” she asks nervously, and I instantly wrap my arms around her, sighing in relief.
“Be safe, Fallon. Please be safe while you’re there,” I whisper in her ear, giving her a little squeeze before letting go.
“I will,” she whispers back.
I walk toward my truck and turn around in the pouring rain to wave to her.
"I'm already missing Jubilee," she yells through sheets of rain.