Chapter 8 - Sierra #2
We stand there, two feet apart but somehow closer than we've been in eight years. I want to close the distance, to touch him, to see if the connection we had all those years ago is still there or if I'm just desperately wishing for something that's long dead.
"Mom, can I use your phone to take pictures of Scout?" Ruby's voice interrupts the moment. "I want to show Grandma and Grandpa."
"Sure, baby." I dig my phone out of my purse, grateful for the distraction, for a reason to look away from Cade before I do something stupid like cry or confess that I never stopped loving him.
Ruby takes approximately forty-seven photos of Scout from every conceivable angle while Cade and I maintain our distance. He offers us something to drink—water, coffee, tea—and I accept water just to have something to do with my hands.
The kitchen really is tiny. When Cade opens the refrigerator to get the water pitcher, I can see inside, mostly empty except for basics. Milk, eggs, some leftover takeout containers. The freezer is better stocked, filled with what look like meal prep containers.
"You cook?" I ask, surprised.
"Batch cooking on my days off." He pours water into two glasses. "Easier than trying to figure out what to eat after a shift. And healthier than eating out all the time."
"That's... very organized."
"I have a lot of time alone with my thoughts." He hands me the glass. "Cooking helps. Gives me something to focus on."
I want to ask what else he does to manage the PTSD, the nightmares he mentioned yesterday. But Ruby's in the next room and this isn't the time or place for that conversation.
"Ruby's been taking a cooking class at the community center," I offer instead. "She made breakfast for dinner last week, scrambled eggs and toast. She was so proud of herself."
"Breakfast for dinner is underrated," Cade says seriously. "Pancakes at eight p.m.? There's nothing wrong with that."
"Spoken like someone who eats cereal for dinner regularly."
"How did you know?" He's smiling now, and it transforms his face, making him look younger, lighter.
"Because I remember you eating Lucky Charms at midnight and calling it a balanced meal because it had marshmallows and grain."
"The four food groups: grains, dairy, sugar, and food coloring." His smile widens. "That's still solid logic."
We're laughing when Ruby returns with my phone and a declaration that she's taken enough pictures and Scout is getting tired of the photo shoot anyway.
"Can we see the waterfall now?" Ruby asks, extricating herself from Scout, who gives her one last headbutt before sauntering back toward the bedroom with her tail held high.
"The waterfall's a bit of a hike," Cade says, glancing at his watch. "It's already past two. By the time we get there and back, it'll be close to dinner."
Ruby's face falls, and I'm about to suggest we save it for tomorrow when there's a knock at the door.
Cade frowns, clearly not expecting anyone. "Hold on."
He opens the door to reveal an older man in jeans and a Blackwater Falls Fire Department t-shirt.
The same man I saw yesterday at the station—the captain, Dallas, if I remember correctly.
He's got kind eyes and the bearing of someone used to command, but there's something gentle in the way he smiles.
"Cap," Cade says, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Heard through the grapevine that you were showing your family around town." Dallas's eyes move to me, then Ruby, and his smile widens. "Thought I'd stop by, see if maybe I could borrow this young lady for an hour or so."
Ruby perks up immediately. "Borrow me for what?"
"Well," Dallas says, crouching down to her level with the ease of someone who's comfortable with kids. "I was thinking maybe you'd like a private tour of the fire station. Get to see how everything works, sit in the trucks, maybe even try on some gear. What do you think?"
"Really?" Ruby's eyes go wide. "I can sit in the fire truck?"
"You can do more than sit in it. You can turn on the lights, sound the horn, the whole experience." Dallas glances up at Cade, then me. "If your parents are okay with it, of course. I figured maybe they could use some time to talk. Adult stuff."
Oh. Oh, he knows. He's giving us an excuse to be alone, to have the conversations we need to have without Ruby present. The thoughtfulness of it, from a man I barely know.
"Can I go?" Ruby turns to me, practically vibrating with excitement. "Please, Mom? I really want to see the fire trucks."
I look at Cade, who's watching Dallas with an expression that's equal parts grateful and exasperated. "Is that okay with you? I don't want to impose on Captain—"
"Dallas, please. And it's no imposition." He straightens, his hand resting gently on Ruby's shoulder. "I raised a daughter myself. I know when parents need some time to hash things out. Besides, the guys at the station have been dying to meet her since yesterday."
"They have?" Ruby asks.
"Oh yeah." Dallas winks at her. "Plus, I promised them I'd bring back photos of you in the fire gear. They're taking bets on whether you'll look more intimidating or adorable."
"I can be both," Ruby declares with the confidence only a seven-year-old can muster.
"I believe it." Dallas looks at us again. "So? What do you say? Give me two hours with her, and I'll bring her back full of stories and probably begging for her own fire truck."
Cade steps closer to me, his voice low. "Dallas is good people. She'll be safe with him."
I can see that. Can see it in the way he's talking to Ruby like she's a person, not just a kid. In the way he's offering us this gift of time without making it feel like charity.
"Okay," I agree. "Two hours. But Ruby, you listen to Captain Dallas, okay? And no touching anything he tells you not to touch."
"I promise!" Ruby is already moving toward the door. "I'll be so good. The best. Can we go now?"
Dallas laughs. "Let me give you my number," he says to me, pulling out his phone. "In case you need to reach her, or if plans change. And I'll text you when we're heading back."
We exchange numbers, and I crouch down to Ruby's level. "Be good, okay? And if you get scared or want to come back early—"
"Mom, I'm going to see fire trucks." Ruby rolls her eyes with the exasperation of someone who clearly thinks I'm worrying over nothing. "I'm not going to want to come back early."
"Okay, okay." I smooth her hair back, press a kiss to her forehead. "Have fun."
Cade crouches beside me. "Listen to Dallas. He's the captain, which means he's the boss. What he says goes."
"Got it." Ruby throws her arms around Cade's neck in an impromptu hug that clearly catches him off guard. "Thanks for letting me meet Scout, Dad. She's the best cat ever."
I watch Cade's arms come around her, watch his eyes close briefly like he's trying to memorize the feeling. "See you in a bit, Ruby."
And then they're gone, Ruby's excited chatter fading as Dallas leads her down the stairs. The door clicks shut, and suddenly it's just Cade and me, alone in his small apartment with nothing but eight years of complicated history between us.