Chapter Twelve Thoran
Adler Oakes paces when he talks. Always has as far as I can tell. It’s ten feet one way and ten feet back with the mic in one hand. It works, the whole town stands there captive in the middle of Main Street with the sun going orange behind the ridge.
"This fire station is so much more than a building," he's saying. "It represents a community that came together. It represents a hundred years of neighbors covering for neighbors, and it represents the day we stopped waiting on somebody else to come save us."
Applause roars through the crowd. Somebody lays on an air horn and even the dogs chime in.
There's plaid bunting up the whole block. The engine's been washed twice and backed into the bay with the doors flung wide. Every one of my guys stands in front of it in dress blues, looking like they'd rather be in the black field again.
I can’t focus on any of it. I scan the crowd instead. None of it matters without her here.
I track the front row. Then the bleachers they hauled over from the arena. I scan the knot of people by the coffee table, the ones on the folding chairs, and the group sitting on the curb outside her shop.
Vivien isn't here.
She's been quiet. Four days quiet. It’s the kind of quiet that answers a text in eleven words and doesn't ask a single question back.
Drew's at his dad's house as far as I know. That means she’s alone.
I'm standing in front of the thing I've been chasing since I was twenty-two years old, and all I want is my girl here with me.
All of her. Not whatever pieces she's been handing me since the fire.
"—and I'm happy to announce," Adler says, and the crowd starts moving before he even gets there, "that the funds have been raised."
The noise comes up off that street like a wave.
"Our fire station will be completed next year. Join me in raising a glass to every donor, because every single dollar counted. And a special thank-you to Timber Logging…"
I know he’s still talking, but I don't hear the rest.
The second he's done I make a line for the edge of the crowd. Somebody calls my name and I smile, but I don’t slow down. Somebody else grabs at my sleeve and says something about a photo. I say I'll be right back, which is a lie.
I keep going and I don't stop until I hit the grooming shop.
The bell over her door isn't a bell, it's a chime, and it goes off soft as I come through. There's a little cavalier standing on her table. He’s half-dried with tags jingling and he’s looking at me like I'm supposed to explain something. The dryer's still running on the arm, blowing at nothing.
Vivien's in the back room with her head over the sink. I push the door open.
"Are you okay? You aren’t, you’re sick."
She startles and gets a hand out on the counter. "No, I’m not sick. I'm okay."
“You’re a bad liar. It's one of my favorite things about you. But it isn’t helpful right now. You’ve got the flu.” I cross to her and put a hand flat on her back, and I can feel her whole spine through her shirt. "You've got to take the day off, Viv."
She turns her head and looks up at me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and there's a piece of hair stuck to her cheek. "Stop it. I’m just taking a moment.”
"Ridiculous, come on." I reach past her and shut the water off. "I'll finish that dog. It can't be that complicated, I've got hands. Let's get you home."
“You aren’t going near that pup with clippers.” She breaks, just a little. It’s a ghost of a smile that plays at the corner of her mouth. But it’s gone just as quickly as it arrived. "I'm fine, Thoran." She straightens up. "Why aren't you at the celebration?"
"I came for you."
"You don’t need to, this is your moment. Go enjoy yourself. You deserve it.” She folds her arms tight across her chest and leans back against the counter, away from me.
Something in my gut goes cold. "Vivien."
"Don't come for me, because I'm about to mess everything up for you." Her chin comes up. Her eyes are wet and absolutely level. "I'm pregnant."
The dryer hums on its arm. The little dog shakes itself out on the table. And all at once my whole life snaps into focus. All of a sudden, it all makes sense.
Every year of wandering. The jobs that never took. The rooms I sat in and knew I wasn't staying. Thirty-some years of never once finding the place I fit and it was all just the long way around to this room, this woman, this day.
Oh. There you are.
"Say something," she whispers.
The words spill out of me, light and airy. "I didn’t think this day could get any better. But here you are making all of my dreams come true. Vivien, this is the best news I have ever heard in my life. I can’t wait to be a dad and I can’t wait to do this with you.”
Her face comes apart.
"Thoran—"
"No, listen to me." I get my hands on her arms, careful, and she doesn't pull away.
"I'm going to be a dad. And you—" my voice goes somewhere I can't get it back from, "—you are already the best mom I've ever met.
I hope he's just like Drew. Mouthy and half feral and right about everything.
So damn smart…" I trail off as tears well behind my eyes.
There’s a long pause. Then Vivien makes a sound that's a laugh and a sob at the same time. “Are you just saying this because you think it’s what I want to hear? Because you don’t have to.”
“I’ve never said anything because I thought someone wanted to hear it.” I shake my head in confusion. "I'm going to be there. Every step. Every appointment, every night, every hour of it. You're not doing one single day of this by yourself. Thank you Viv, I love you.”