Page 20 of The Map Home
“That’s a nice thing you and Mrs. G are doing, I bet there’ll be lots of happy kids.”
“It’s all Penny, you know that,” Waylon said, tossing one last bear into the box.
From somewhere on the other side of the square, Dakota heard several cheers and a yee-haw.
“I should get back out there,” Dakota said. A loud yee-haw this time of day had his Spidey senses waking up.
“Will we see you on Christmas Day?” Penny asked. “You know you’re family.”
Inwardly, Dakota cringed. “Maybe? I might be working.”
He wasn’t going to commit to anything after his dream the other night. Maybe he needed to spend less time around the Gillespies, especially Tad.
“See you then, son,” Waylon said, setting his hand lightly against Penny’s lower back.
That definitely sounded like an order and not casual agreement. Nodding, Dakota pushed back out into the fray.
Several hours later—andafter spotting at least three more Santas of all ages, one who, from the back, looked to be in his twenties—Dakota was thinking they should make another Ocean’s movie and this time have it center around a Santa heist. He paused at the corner near Ellis Books, glaring toward the still dark fifty-foot blue spruce in the center of the square. He was beyond ready for the lighting ceremony to be over with.
Mayor Hobart and several others, none of whom, it seemed to Dakota, had no idea what they were doing, had been screwing around by the side of the tiny stage for more than half an hour with lots of flailing hands and raised voices. What the fuck were they waiting for? Just how complicated could flipping a switch be? This was a tree lighting ceremony, not a rocket launch.
Although, he thought, launching the tree into outer space might be more fun to watch.
He’d lurked in the background the entire day, but nothing interesting had occurred as of yet. Helping Waylon and Penny had been the most exciting thing for him all shift. Not that he wanted a fight to break out or anything, but he was bored. And his feet were chilly. And he was hungry.
“Hi, Mister Policeman.” A young boy holding tightly to his dad’s hand skipped past Dakota’s spot, heading the opposite direction.
“Hey, there, kiddo,” Dakota responded, trying to make sure he looked friendly. Sheriff Morgan had been very clear that his deputies needed to projectniceandapproachable—until making an arrest, of course.Smile, Dakota, smile.
“I want to be a policeman when I get big enough,” Dakota heard the kid say to his dad as they walked away.
Needing a break from smiling, Dakota stepped into the shadow of the Warrick building. Had he ever said anything like that to his mom? The idea seemed far-fetched.
Ana Green would never have been nominated for parent of the year—or even week. She’d “forgotten” to pick him up at school more than once. And when she had finally shown up, she always claimed she’d been busy—new job, job interview, a great opportunity—but somehow none of those things ever panned out.
Movie nights had been fun for a while. But too soon those had been exchanged for sleepovers at friends’ houses and after-school activities. Things that gave Ana time to workanddo what she wanted with her suspect-friends or new boyfriend of the month without Dakota in tow. That’s what Dakota remembered.
When he was ten, she’d decided he was old enough to stay home alone. Thinking about it now, Dakota wondered if that was when she started using again. Could be she’d never stopped and Dakota had never been the wiser.
Now he knew—from Niall and others—that Ana hadalwaysbeen restless, constantly on the hunt for the next perfect thing: the job, the place to live, the town where everything in her life would fall into place and be impossibly perfect.
For Ana, there’d always been something better on the horizon, a golden ring she only needed to reach out and grab onto for her fortunes to change. Their life sounded like it hadn’t been much different from the short time when Niall had been her kid. That families didn’t just up and move in the middle of the night was something Dakota didn’t know until he was older. Not until G-Bar.
The radio strapped to his chest crackled to life, interrupting his thoughts. “Time for a break, Green,” Sheriff Morgan’s tinny sounding voice said. “Grab a coffee and pastry at CCs, my treat.”
“Thanks, over and out.”
The radio made Dakota feel a bit like a kid playing at being a deputy, but he figured he’d get used to it eventually.
It was late afternoon, but CCs was still open and had a steady line of customers. Greg, the owner, was working and spotted Dakota when he walked in. At a solid six foot four, Dakota tended to tower over the general population and was difficult to miss.
“Come on up to the front, Deputy. Sheriff Morgan called in an open order for y’all.”
Greg seemed nice enough, although Dakota didn’t interact with him much other than when he was in CCs desperatelyneeding a caffeine infusion. And, admittedly, the pastries were delicious too.
He felt weird cutting to the front of the line, but everyone waiting seemed to be in good moods and waved him forward with various takes on “Happy Holidays” and “Thanks for your hard work.”
Nodding, but also wishing he had the power of invisibility, Dakota stepped up to the counter. He would never get used to people thanking him for doing his job, for helping and protecting people in need. It was literally what he was paid for.
