Page 16 of Make it Real
Couldn’t have a conversation for three minutes without her grandma coming up. That, or her kindergarten students. Spending all her time with either five-year-olds or seventy-five-year-olds only drove home the image of her wide-eyed innocence.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that is not her grandma.”
I looked over my shoulder again. Maybe the smile she’d plastered on looked real to Wade, but she kept shaking her head, waving her date off every time he moved in too close. His need to get into her space made my back stiffen. The bartender came up, and from the way the two went back and forth talking over each other, easy bet the guy had tried to order her drink for her. What a tool. Callie—and the bartender, bless him—weren’t having it.
The bartender served their drinks, liquor for the guy and almost assuredly a soft drink for her. Might have been a Seven and Seven, but I stood by my straight-arrow assessment. I doubted she’d go for liquor on a first date.
Unless—was this their first date? No way of knowing. Maybe it wasn’t a blind date, but another attempt at securing a boyfriend. Real or fake? The thought they’d been out before rattled through me like shaking a box of rocks.
A second later, Callie pulled money out of her purse and paid for her drink, shutting down whatever the guy was saying.
I spun back around. “Date’s not going so hot.”
I wasn’t usually the kind of guy to glory in someone else’s failure, but a spot of pleasure bloomed to life in my chest anyway.
“Looks like a tool.”
I raised my empty beer glass. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Wade clinked my glass with his but leveled me with an uncharacteristically somber look. “I’ll try to help out some around the orchards on my days off through harvest.”
He made the same offer every summer, and turned up to lend a hand when he could. I suspected he wanted to make up for some lingering guilt for not sticking around to go into the family business. How many first-born farm kids chose a different profession from the one they’d been molded to take on? But I’d never outright asked if it bothered him. A question like that would hold too much judgment, and I didn’t blame him for his choices.
“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do that.” His schedule as a firefighter kept him busy enough. He’d find time to show up no matter what, but I wouldn’t make him put anything on a calendar. “Don’t need to take even more time away from your family, who, I assume, would like to see you now and then, too. Though I can’t think why.”
“You know you’ve got it covered over there. Whatever Pop’s hangup is about stepping down, he’ll sort it out.”
I nodded, more in hope than actual agreement. For all I knew, Pop might hold onto the business for the next twenty years.
In the end, maybe that’d be best. I didn’t know how to run a company with an eye for future plans. In the Army, I’d followed orders and done what I was told. Sure, I’d had guys I’d been in charge of, missions I’d handled, but ultimately, everything important had come from higher up. Could I really be the guy calling all the shots?
The bigger question: did I want to be him?
Wade’s phone buzzed on the table. He checked it, and the weirdest expression crossed his face, like he was trying not to look thrilled. Like nothing could have made him happier than the text to come home. I didn’t take it personally, because I didn’t think his reaction had anything to do with who he was leaving, but who he was going hometo.
A sudden spark of envy of all Wade had flashed to life. Someone to go home to. Someone to check up on. Little ones to tuck in, a wife to hold close at night. Things I’d never thought too hard about before suddenly glowing vivid in my mind, burning into a bright clearwant.
But the memory of heartache and loss, of raw, unending grief, swallowed up that want. I’d realized long ago I wasn’t meant for that life. Not when I knew what waited on the other side of it.
“That’s me,” he said, standing up. “Maisie’s awake, so it’s time for Daddy Duty.”
Shaking off my bitter thoughts before they could take hold, I stood, too.
“You heading out?” he asked.
I turned my head and caught the jerk next to Callie lean into her personal space so he could talk straight into her ear. I would have counted it as meaningless flirting, but from her stiff posture, she didn’t welcome the lean. If I had to guess, she was looking for a way to get rid of the guy.
It just so happened I had a lot of experience with that.
“I think I’ll stick around a while.”
Wade looked from me to where Callie sat at the bar and back again. Smiling in his Big Brother Knows Best way, he slapped me on the shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
So did I.
SIX
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