Chapter Eight
Mark
My alarm goes off around eleven the next morning, and I wake up with a start. Apparently I slept hard. I always hate the wake up process after we’ve been to a fire. My eyes burn, my nose is dry from the oxygen we wear. It typically takes me a day or so to get calibrated back to normal.
But today I’m promising myself I’m going to reward myself.
I have an hour before shift change, so I’m going to make good use of it by taking a shower, and getting ready. Pushing the covers off, I get up, and head toward the bathrooms of the fire station. When I get there, I see just the man I wanna see.
“You look like you slept hard,” Gunner laughs. “You’ve got a crease on your cheek from the blanket.”
“I did, I feel hungover.”
“Yeah, it does that to me sometimes too.”
I head to one of the stalls and take care of business before coming out and washing my hands. I reach into my toiletry bag and grab out my toothbrush and toothpaste, eyeing him as I begin the process.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Moving my neck back and forth to work out the kinks, I plunge into what’s on my mind. “If I want Cora to like me, what do I need to do? She’s asked Trish to meet me.”
His eyes widen, and he turns to face me. “This is one of the most important things you’re going to do in your life, man. Corabelle has been through a lot, and she doesn’t trust easily.”
“I know, which is why I want to make a good impression. I really like Trish, and if I don’t win over Cora, I can kiss that goodbye.”
He looks like he doesn’t want to give me too much information, and that’s fair. He probably wishes I’d figure this out for myself, but I’m not great with kids, have never been around them much, and have no idea how to even approach this conversation.
Gunner sets his toothbrush down on the edge of the sink and turns to face me fully, like this conversation just got serious. Which, I suppose it has.
"Okay," he says slowly. "But if you tell Trish I told you any of this, I will deny it until my dying breath."
"Understood." I spit into the sink and rinse my mouth. "Now talk, and don’t leave anything out."
He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. "Cora is... she's one of a kind, man. She's not a typical kid. She's bold and she's bright, and she doesn't have a lot of patience for people who aren't real with her. She’ll be able to tell if you’re just in it for her Mom."
"What does she like?"
He holds up one finger, as he begins counting down all the wisdom he’s about to give me.
"She loves color. Like I’m talking bright, loud, ridiculous amounts of color.
That kid will walk into a room wearing neon yellow and a tutu and she doesn't give a single damn what anyone thinks about it.
She gravitates toward things that are vibrant. "
I can work with that. "Okay. What else?"
A second finger goes up. "She loves to dance and sing.
I'm talking full production numbers, my man.
She will perform for you whether you ask for it or not, and the correct response is to be her audience and tell her she's incredible.
Because she is." He says it with such conviction that I know she’s amazing before I even see it.
"Don't half ass it either. She'll know."
"She sounds like she keeps you on your toes."
"She keeps everyone on their toes." He says those words with warm affection. He loves her, and there’s no denying it. Sometimes I kind of wondered if he does everything he does for Trish because he feels like he has to since he’s her brother.
But this? It’s making me see there’s a lot of affection there, and it goes both ways.
“I adore that little girl. She's been through a lot, and she's still the most unguarded kid I've ever met. That took a lot of hard work that most adults won’t even do.
That took Trish working her ass off to make sure she stayed that way. "
These two girls are some of the most special people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, and I’m going to make sure they know it.
I’ve been approaching Trish with just winning her over, but after hearing all of this, I’m realizing they are a packaged deal, and I can’t win one over without the other.
"Is there a third thing?" I ask, nodding toward his still raised hand.
He grins. "Ohh yeah. Chocolate cake. That's her kryptonite. You want to win over Corabelle? You walk in that door with chocolate cake from that little bakery near the clerks office, and she will love you for the rest of her natural life."
I throw my head back laughing. "That's it? Flowers, dancing, and cake?"
"Don't underestimate those three things. They aren't small to her. You walk in with those, give her your full attention, and don't treat her like a kid you're trying to tolerate? She'll decide you're worthy, and she won’t ever let that go. Once you’re hers? You’re hers."
I think about what that means for a second. I’m doing all of this because I want both of them in my life, but more than anything, I want her mom. "And Trish? Will Trish think so too?"
Gunner gives me a look that sort of strikes fear in my heart, even though we’re friends.
It says that whatever happens will set the tone for the rest of whatever Trish and I have together.
"Let me put it this way. Trish has kept every person in her life at arm's length for two years now.
She doesn't let people in. The fact that she's letting you anywhere near Cora is already the answer to that question, if you're paying attention. "
I am paying attention. I've been paying attention since the moment I saw her walk into this fire station to talk to her brother. I’m done wasting time with this too. I’ve watched Ash and Gunner couple up, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I want it too.
We both hear the shift change starting, the sound of the relief crew coming in. They’re loud as they stomp into the fire station and get themselves situated. Gunner pushes off the counter and claps me on the shoulder as he heads out.
"Don't fuck it up" he says over his shoulder. "Just be yourself. If she's letting you in, she already likes what she sees."
The door swings shut behind him and I stand there for a second in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror.
I don't have a plan for this. I've never had a plan for anything in my personal life, just figured it out as I went.
But this feels different. Trish feels different.
And the idea of walking into that house and getting it wrong, of saying the wrong thing or coming in empty handed like some guy who didn't take the time to think about what mattered to her daughter, says I can’t half ass this.
They deserve for me to put everything I have into this.
There’s one man who didn’t, and he’s not a part of their lives anymore.
I'm not putting this off. I want to be a part of their lives, and to do that, I’ve gotta show up and be that person.
By the time the shift briefing wraps up and relief confirms the truck checks, I've already got my keys in my hand. I change out of my station clothes, throw my bag over my shoulder, and head out into the early afternoon sunshine with one destination locked in my mind before the second one.
The county clerk's office sits in the middle of downtown. It’s one of the oldest buildings in Midnight Cove, and it shows.
We’re close to the ocean here, and the salt has done a number on the outside, but it’s still one of the most loved structures here.
I don’t go inside very often, and I’ve never gone in there for anything other than to renew my registration, but that changes today.
I push through the glass door and let my eyes adjust. There are a couple of people at the front counter.
“Hey, can you tell me where I can find Trish?” I ask one of the older women who doesn’t seem to be as busy.
She looks me up and down, smiling brightly before she nods. “Yeah, she’s down the hall, working property valuations today.” She points out the door, and toward a sign that hangs from the ceiling.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” I find her at a desk that's got a shit load of paper on it and a sweating bottle of water, along with a half-eaten apple.
She looks up when I tap on the open door frame, and the expression that crosses her face cycles through surprised and then excitement before she seems to get it under control.
"Mark." She glances behind me like she's checking to see if anyone noticed. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Gunner?”
I take that as an invitation to lean against the door frame. "I wanted to ask you something."
"Okayyyy," she pulls the last letter out and tilts her head to the side, a smile spreading across her face.
"Will you and Cora have dinner with me tonight?
" I watch her face carefully, my eyes moving down to where her fingers have gone still on the keyboard.
"I know it's short notice. But I don't want to wait, Trish. I want to meet her, and I want to see where we can go from here. She’s important to you, so she’s important to me, and there’s no sense in holding off on that. "
The silence stretches between us long enough to make me fucking nervous.
"Tonight," she repeats, like she can’t believe I’m asking so quickly.
"Tonight,” I confirm. “If that’s okay with you.”
She sits back in her chair and seems to roll the idea over in her head.
I can literally hear her thinking out loud, but I don’t interrupt.
The hesitation isn't about me, I don't think.
It's about Cora. It's about protecting the person that matters more than anything else in her life, and I respect that more than I can say.
"She gets home from school at three fifteen," Trish says finally.
I breathe a sigh of relief, the tension of my body releasing as I smile. "I can be there by six."
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and then nods. "Okay."
Happiness blooms in my chest. "Yeah?" I verify to make sure, hoping that I’m not pressuring her into something she doesn’t really want to do.
"Yeah." She lifts her face up to me, and there's the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "Don't be late."
"Yes ma'am." I push off the door frame and point at her. "I'll see you at six."
I'm back out the door and into the sunshine before she can change her mind, and I already know my next two stops. The bakery for a chocolate cake. The flower stand by the farmer's market, because Gunner said bright and bold, and I'm going to trust that.
The afternoon passes in a blur of errands and anticipation for what I hope is going to change the rest of my life. I can't remember the last time I looked forward to something this much.
Whatever happens tonight, it’s going to change the trajectory of my life, and I’m not going to fuck it up.