“So, are there a lot of firefighters around here?” I asked.
I was still absorbing that detail about Graham, and my curiosity about him was a flame burning higher and higher. The man who was now my neighbor, and the man who’d laid the best kiss of my life on me when I thought I’d never see him again, of course he was a firefighter. That fit.
“We have a surplus of firefighters around here, hotshots and regular,” Janet replied.
“What’s the difference between a hotshot firefighter and a regular one? They’re the ones who go out in the wilderness, right?”
Janet nodded. “Not much other than wilderness in most of Alaska. The crews around here are smoke jumpers. They fly out and land right in the middle of the fires. It sounds exciting, and I suppose it is, but it’s not an easy job.” Pausing, she dampened a towel under a faucet and wiped the counter as she continued talking. “Until this year, he was on the town crew, but he’s the superintendent for a new hotshot crew here.”
“How many crews are in town?”
“Willow Brook is thick with firefighters and hotshots, all of them too good looking for their own good. The Fire & Rescue station here serves as a hub for three hotshot crews and a town crew. Graham’s a good neighbor to have. Make sure to get his phone number. If you ever need anything, he’ll be happy to help.”
I couldn’t even imagine asking for Graham’s phone number, but I bit back the urge to snort a laugh. At least he hadn’t arrested me the other night. Even though he wasn’t a cop, I didn’t doubt if he’d truly thought I was breaking and entering, he’d have done his best to make sure I stayed put until the police arrived.
“I’ll make sure to ask him,” I commented as a bell jingled behind me, and I glanced toward the door to see some customers entering. “Thanks for the coffee.” I turned back and cast a quick smile at Janet.
“Always. Hope to see you often. My sandwiches are pretty good too,” she offered with a grin.
“I’ll be back.” I waved as I turned and left the café.
My budget didn’t allow for having coffee out every day, but it was nice to meet Janet and get a feel for the town. Willow Brook was a far cry from Houston, but it was a cute town, and people seemed friendly.
I slipped into my car and quickly checked my notes on my phone. I needed some things at the grocery store. I’d stocked up on food yesterday, but I’d forgotten to get a few household items, such as toilet paper. There was one roll, but I needed more, along with some cleaning supplies. Although the house appeared to have been cleaned, it was still dusty.
My heart pinched thinking of my grandfather. I’d never gotten to see him as much as I’d wanted over the years. It didn’t surprise me he didn’t talk about his family with many people around here. He and my mother had a bitter relationship. He’d never liked my father. When my father tried to force my grandfather to invest in his business, he’d refused. After that, he and my mother hardly spoke.
I wondered if my grandfather had known more than I did about my father’s business instincts. I shook my head to myself as I drove through town and turned into the parking area of the grocery store. I hurried through, scooping up everything I needed, and then headed home.
As soon as I realized I was starting to think of this place as “home” in my own thoughts, even though I’d only been here since yesterday, uncertainty stole through me.
The anxiety hovering inside me over the past year had become familiar. It was this cold unsteadiness inside, as if a door had been left open to a home and cold air was blowing through. I didn’t like the feeling. I also didn’t like that I was getting used to it.
As I drove toward home, I admired the view. I still couldn’t quite believe I was living here. The mountains were tall in the distance, their hulking form both intimidating and comforting. They were so solidly there.
A few minutes later, I walked inside, and Wilbur greeted me enthusiastically with a few sharp barks as he circled my legs, his chunky bottom bumping into my calves. I kicked my boots off and quickly crossed over to the kitchen to unload the bags from the store onto the counter. I knelt to greet him.
“Hey, sweet boy,” I murmured as I stroked my hands down his sides. He licked under my chin.
There was nothing like a dog’s love, purely unconditional. Humans were much more complicated. If only I could get through life with a dog as my family. It would be so much simpler.
After I put everything away, I sat down on the couch to get up to speed on my email and follow up on a few feelers I’d put out for work. I tended to do my work at home on the couch because Wilbur preferred it. He liked to snuggle up beside me, and I found the background noise of the television soothing.
Today, I left it on a cooking show. Between emails, maybe I would learn something. Although this one was a rather cutthroat competitive show.
I squealed aloud as I scrolled through my email. I actually had a reply. I opened it with more excitement than I wished. I hated that I’d felt so comfortable in my position in my family’s business, only to literally have all of it yanked out from under me. Confidence had never been my strong suit. I was learning I’d created some sort of façade by doing the things I thought I should do. Learning it was all wrong had dented my fledgling faith in myself.
Although my fingers itched to reply to the email instantly, I forced myself to type up a reply in a document and wait an hour or so before sending it. I didn’t want to appear too eager. It was also a pet peeve of mine that people sometimes waited forever to reply to things.
I scratched Wilbur’s neck, and he let out a satisfied rumble as he rested his chin on my knee. I idly watched the show. A man with a buzz cut who zoomed about the kitchen confidently appeared crushed when he lost a round in the cooking show. A matronly woman who had no professional cooking experience had wowed the judges with some kind of soufflé.
“See,” I said to Wilbur. “She’s succeeding on her own merits.”
Wilbur blinked at me before closing his eyes. I leaned my head back against the couch with a sigh. That was the problem. I didn’t even know what my own merits were anymore.
The only thing I felt confident about was my work. I couldn’t exactly list my father as a reference, and I didn’t want to. Fortunately, I had a few colleagues and people whose projects I had handled who were willing to serve as references and thought highly of my work.
I stood from the couch and strode into the kitchen, returning with a small plate with cheese and crackers on it. I was a sucker for good cheese and hoped my tight budget would get me through the next few months. If I played it carefully and started to find some work, it would be more than fine.
I’d paid for the year ahead on the internet. I figured that would force me to stay put, which I needed to do. Even if this place was brand new to me, I knew I needed to burrow in and try to find some stability.
I sat back down on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table and taking a bite of cheese. After I finished chewing, I eyed the plate, commenting aloud, “Starving is worse than not having internet.”
Wilbur lifted his head, wagging his little nub. “You just want the food.” I slipped him a piece of cheese, which I knew I wasn’t supposed to do, but he really liked cheese.