Chapter 3
Chapter Three
CHASE
I woke up from a restless sleep to find gratitude in Saturday. Saturday was my busiest day of the week. I fed the animals in the early morning, worked the farmer’s market ’til noon, then headed to Green Valley to keep an eye on Violet’s kids while she went to class.
It was off-season now, but Saturday nights in summer were supper night at The Noble Pig. On those days, Violet dropped her kids off at the farm. A stool for Bri and a stepladder for Trey were permanent fixtures in my kitchen. Saturdays never felt like work—they felt like how things were supposed to be. Saturdays reminded me I’d built a life.
A life you can’t just walk away from , a voice inside me said to the part of me that wanted to accept what Forrest proposed. Working on the protocol that could have saved Todd sounded more than a little tempting. But I couldn’t forget how broken I had been. Losing Todd the way I did had made me catatonic. I’d suffered what the doctors had called a mental break, diagnosed as such given my inability to function.
I’d kept myself together long enough to attend his funeral. Then, I’d gone home and gotten in bed. I didn’t get up for days. When I’d stopped answering my phone, my firefighter brothers had paid me a visit—the kind where I didn’t answer my door, so they’d had to knock it down. They say I didn’t talk for two full weeks. I don’t remember most of it. What I do remember is people hovering over me, telling me all I needed was time. What I’d needed was serious help from trained professionals who knew about grief and trauma. And not just from that day—the accumulated trauma that came from working that kind of job.
“Woman trouble?” my well-meaning, if oversexed, employee inquired. Cody had been helping me at the farmer’s market for two years. He had all the cockiness of your average twenty-two-year-old, but he was a good worker, and I liked the guy.
“You think every damn thing boils down to woman troubles.”
“That’s ’cause every damn thing does.”
The look I gave him told him he was full of shit.
“Is the farm in trouble?” he quizzed.
“It does all right.”
“Someone piss in your corn flakes this morning?”
I rolled my eyes in lieu of supplying an answer. He smirked back at me, unperturbed.
“Do you have any health or legal problems?” he prodded. “Were you abducted by aliens who performed depraved experiments on your weak human body? ’Cause if it ain’t none of that shit, it’s got to be a woman.”
“Did you ever think that maybe I just had a long night?”
It had been a sleepless one. Drifting off had taken hours. Thirty minutes after I did, I’d awakened in a cold sweat. I hadn’t nodded off again until the sun rose.
“Fine. Be mysterious.” Cody threw me a haughty look.
Since proving him wrong would force me to explain my dilemma, I let it lie.
And I couldn’t think of it as a dilemma if I didn’t have a choice. Even if I wanted to go back to the forestry service, my biggest responsibility was Violet. I’d promised Todd that I would take care of her if anything ever happened. It would only, always, ever come down to that.
Four hours later, I stood in Violet’s kitchen pinching the crust shut on a chicken pot pie. I’d handmade the dough myself; my freezer-chilled butter and ice-cold water technique would ensure it came out flaky. Across from me, Trey was face deep in the mixing bowl which, only seconds ago, had contained the dough for no-bake peanut butter bars.
Bri stood at the counter, staring absently at uncut bars that had already been smoothed into the pan. I’d tried to cheer her up by putting on the frilly apron she’d given me when she was four. It was pink and it said “Uncle Chase.” It was usually good for a laugh but she hadn’t cracked a smile. She’d been down in the dumps since we got home.
“What’s up, buttercup? You don’t want to lick the spoon?” I jutted my chin at the one she held in her hand.
“When will Mommy be home?” Bri pouted.
“Her class ended a little while ago.” I kept my voice light. “I’m sure it won’t be long.”
“But I want to show her the vid-e-o.” She stretched out the word to three times its normal length. She was a championship whiner when she turned it on.
“Your momma’s got to go to school, just like you,” I pointed out.
“Mommy’s too old for school,” Trey supplied.
“You’re never too old for school,” I protested. “Your momma does a lot for you. Now, it’s your turn to support something that’s important to her. It’s important to her to get her degree. She’s doing it to better herself.”
“But Mommy’s already good the way she is.” Bri was still put out. “She doesn’t need to be better.”
“Bettering yourself just means achieving your own goal,” I explained.
“She’ll miss all my soccer matches.” Bri was scowling now.
“I caught the whole game on video. She won’t have to miss a minute,” I appeased.
“Did you go to college, Uncle Chase?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I went straight to the fire academy, just like your dad. Then I was a firefighter for a long time. After that, I went to culinary school.”
Trey took a break from his bowl-licking. “And that’s where they taught you how to cook.”
“I was already good at cooking before that. They just taught me to cook better.”
“That’s just like Mommy,” Trey concluded. “She’s already good at making our house pretty. Now she wants to help other people’s houses.”
“I don’t want Mommy to get another job.” Bri was still fixated on Violet. “If she has two jobs, she won’t have any time for us.”
Violet chose that moment to walk through from the garage into the kitchen.
“Mommy!” Trey jumped down from his stool and ran to Violet, planting a sugary kiss on her lips. It gave me time to lower my voice and speak to Bri.
“Don’t be too hard on her, shortcake. Your momma’s doing her best. Now, here’s my phone. Go on and show her a video of your game.”
For the next twenty minutes, I busied myself cleaning up the kitchen as Violet caught up on the day with her kids. Trey sat on Violet’s lap as Bri leaned on her shoulder and showed her the video. I could see that Violet was tired, but she gave what she had left to her kids.
“What smells so good?” she wanted to know when she finally found me at the sink and greeted me with a hug.
“Chicken pot pie and peanut butter bars.” I’d just put the latter in the fridge to chill.
“Next week, can we make fruity krispies?” Trey asked.
“Sure we can, bud.” Fruity krispies were Trey’s favorite dessert, not that he had ever met a dessert he didn’t like. They were like Rice Krispie treats, except you made them with Fruity Pebbles. They were cloyingly sweet, so I cut in some plain Krispies to take off a bit of the edge.
“Maybe not next week, Chase.” Violet lowered her voice to speak only to me. “I mean, I don’t think I’ll need you to come.”
“Is class canceled next week?” My mind was already racing to alternatives. “Maybe we could all go to the haunted hayride. It’s opening weekend. Tickets just went on sale.”
I expected Violet’s face to light up with the suggestion, but she looked uncomfortable.
“Actually, Jules is coming over to watch the kids.” She said it in a way that made me suspicious. Doubly so when she wrang her hands. “I figured, every once in a while, you could use a break.”
“A break from you and my godkids?” My voice lowered along with hers.
She shifted her gaze to Bri. “Kids, why don’t y’all go have your screen time in the other room?”
Chair legs scraped across the floor as both kids fled the kitchen at a running break. I might’ve smiled if I hadn’t gotten such a funny feeling. Violet had a right to ask anyone she wanted to watch her children. But what the hell was going on? I’d watched these kids every single Saturday since Violet’s first semester in school.
“Is Jules coming next Saturday or every Saturday?” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice.
“Just next Saturday. Some Saturdays.” Violet looked like she wanted to cry. “I don’t know.”
“Vi…what the hell is going on?”
“Next week, I need someone…not just for the afternoon. I need someone to stay late.”
I softened somewhat. “You know you could’ve asked me. I know you’re hung up on being a burden, but spending time with Bri and Trey is no burden to me.”
But my words did not appease her. If anything, she seemed more fraught. Whatever it was that made her want Jules instead of me, she was having a hard time getting it out.
“I have a date,” she finally said. Her voice was no louder than a whisper. “I didn’t want to ask you to be here while I go out with another man. I know he’s been gone four years, and it’s time for me to move on, but you being here to witness it doesn’t feel right. I mean, you were Todd’s best friend.”
“You’re dating again?” My mouth reacted before my mind could tell it no. I could hear the incredulity in my voice. “Since when?”
Her thin voice told me she was nervous. “Since I got asked out.”
Years spent in the fire service had taught me to keep a neutral face. People hadn’t always been in great shape whenever I’d arrived on a scene. But I’d seen third-degree burns that hurt me less than this.
“Look,” she continued. “I’m not even sure I like the guy, but I know I’m overdue. It’s time I get back on the horse.”
I took my time before speaking, knowing I had to choose my words. My reaction now had the potential to break something in our friendship. It was clear she thought she had to hide all of this from me. But I couldn’t abide her doing that.
“I think it’s great that you’re dating again,” I lied through my teeth, then chased it with an absolute truth. “He wouldn’t want you to be alone.”
“Yeah. I know.” She looked miserable. “It’s just… A big step.”
Once again, I compartmentalized my feelings.
“You don’t have to hide anything from me, Vi. I’ve always been your friend too.”
It was my second lie in a minute, because I’d never been her friend—had never not wanted more than she could give.