Page 70 of Fire Fight
CREW
True to form,I was disgustingly full by the time we finished eating dinner—though I made sure to save enough room for both my and Lane’s pieces of Mama’s apple pie. I made a real nice show of vocally enjoying it while my brother looked on petulantly, a grimace tilting his lips down and murder in his eyes.
The best piece of pie I’d ever had.
After we cleared the table and helped Mama load the dishwasher, Aria disappeared upstairs, and Finn and West headed out to their respective homes on the property.
That left me, Mama, Lane, Trey, and of course, Aspen to enjoy a nightcap—with ulterior motives.
I’d been unsure about tonight, mainly because I knew how exhausting my family could be, and I was worried Aspen would run screaming in the opposite direction as they all started filtering into the house.
But she continued to surprise me.
She held her ground with all of my brothers, and spent most of dinner in deep conversation with Aria about music, which happened to be my sister’s favorite topic.
Though we told her several times that guests didn’t help withcleanup, she refused to listen, up to her elbows in soapy water alongside my mom as they cleaned the dishes that had to be hand washed.
Then we retired to the den. With Aspen’s permission, we turned the gas fireplace back on, dispelling the chill that tended to set in this time of year once the sun went down.
“I know Finn said it at dinner, Aspen, but I speak for all of us when I say how sorry I am for what happened to you,” Mom started.
Aspen gave her a twitch of a smile. I knew she hated being the center of attention, and neither wanted nor needed the sympathy and pity.
“You were in school with Roger and Vicky, right?” Lane asked, cutting right to the chase and saving Aspen from having to respond.
Mom nodded. “They were two years behind me and your father in school.”
I softened at the mention of my dad in the way I always did. My parents had been high school sweethearts, graduating and choosing to stay right here on the ranch, knowing they’d already found their forever in each other and wanting to start their family as soon as possible. As the story went, Mama was already a few months pregnant with Owen when they got married. All she ever wanted to be was a mom, and I was fucking grateful she was mine.
A weaker woman would’ve given up on me a long time ago, but she never once wavered in her support.
Aspen reminded me of her in that way—they both had that fierce strength.
“What can you tell us about them?” I asked.
“Good people, from what I remember. Vicky was smart as hell and planned to go to UCLA for school. I can’t remember what she wanted to major in, but I have no doubt she would have excelled in college. She was on every damn committee you couldthink of, from yearbook to student council, debate team, Key Club, on top of playing basketball in the fall and running track in the spring. She was…impressive.
“On the flip side, Roger was a goof. The class clown, if you will. One of the funniest guys I’d ever met, and had a personality way too big for this tiny town. On paper, he and Vicky shouldn’t have worked, and maybe they didn’t entirely because they spent a lot of time off and on. And when they were off, he…”
Mom paused and shook her head, opening her mouth, apparently about to skip over what she’d planned on saying, but the cop in Lane perked up.
“Tell us, Mama.”
“I don’t want to speak ill of the dead.”
“It’s not ill if it’s the truth,” Aspen added quietly. “And if there’s anything you can tell us to help figure out who hurt them, who hurtme, then you owe it to us to do that.”
Thiswas why Lane had wanted Aspen here. Mama had a backbone of steel but a bleeding heart, and she’d already taken a strong liking to Aspen. My girl obviously wasn’t opposed to using that to her advantage.
Mom took a deep breath, eyes locked on Aspen as she said, “Roger got around. When he wasn’t with Vicky, he was with…everyone else. I doubt there was a girl in the high school that he hadn’t been with.”
“Even you?” Trey blurted.
Mom leaned forward and swatted at him. “No, not me, you little shit. I’ve been head over heels in love with your father since the day I first laid eyes on him.”
Mom and her family had moved to town over the summer before their freshman year of high school. That first day, they laid eyes on each other, and the game was over for them both. They dated until they were eighteen, got married at twenty, and had Owen shortly after. Their love story was the shit of fairy tales.
My heart squeezed painfully at her use of the present tense, though. Dad had been gone for twenty years, but she’d never moved on. Not for lack of trying on our part. Our old ranch foreman, Cyrus, had always held a torch for mom. After Dad died, he’d stuck around another five years until we all managed to get back on our feet. When he retired, we encouraged Mom to go out with him—or anyone—but she never listened. She always claimed she only had room in her heart for one man, and that man had taken it with him when he died.
