Page 80 of Book and Ladder
“Exactly. It was so far gone it barely took a spark to take it down. By the time we got there it was all ash and embers.”
“Yeah. I remember,” he says. “Why?”
“That’s the chance I have with Daisy Clark. Whatever’s between us already burnt to the ground by the time I showed up with any interest in saving what’s left.”
Cody shakes his head. “My mama always used to say, ‘If it ain’t dead, there’s still life in it.’ You’re not dead and neither is she. Embers, man. Embers. Besides, isn’t all that electricity between the two of you the same as sparks? Correct me if I’m wrong, but sparks and embers can be lethal.”
He’s not the first to mention the tension between Daisy and me. Even the author at her book event noticed.
“Love’s action, not passion,” I say. “It’s sacrifice. Losing yourself on behalf of the one who dominates your thoughts and emotions.” I look across the cab of the truck. “Infatuation is passion. Love goes deeper.”
I ready myself for Cody’s retort, something along the lines of:Okay, Shakespeare. But it never comes. Instead, Cody nods his head thoughtfully.
“That was a heck of a fire, though,” he finally says. “The old barn.”
“It was,” I agree. “At least that barn wasn’t serving anyone. It needed to come down.”
“I think you need to make your move,” Cody says.
“My move?”
“On Daisy. Ask her out. Send her flowers. Do something.”
“If only it were that simple,” I tell Cody. “She hates me. She never let go of my mistake all those years ago. And now my dad’s putting a box store next to her shop. It’s not the time.”
“Timing is overrated.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have feelings for someone with a hit list of one—and your name is the only name on it.”
“Yeah. I don’t know what you’re up against. But I see something there between you. I hope it works out.”
We’re quiet for a while, and then Cody says, “Hey, I forgot to tell you something,” as we’re pulling into one of the only open spaces in front of Judy’s.
“What’s that?”
“Your brother and I got to talking when he was home.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“He said he’s proud of you.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. And I could tell he meant it.”
Cody cuts the engine and hops out of the truck. I linger in the passenger seat for a moment, watching people file into Judy’s.
Declan’s proud of me?
I cradle the thought gingerly, like handblown glass in a paper sack. Nobody in my family has ever given me that kind of praise. Dad clapped me on the back tonight, but his approval always feels conditional—I’m only “in” as long as I fall in line. But Declan? He’s proud of me as I am—thefirefighter, the bookworm. It doesn’t even feel real. I hop out of the truck and catch up with Cody. Declan’s fragile words still roll around as the waitress sets menus in front of us.
Cody doesn’t press me about Dad’s development or my feelings for Daisy once we’re inside Judy’s. The place is packed. Waitresses are hopping from table to booth like bees in a hive. We’re seated in the back with enough privacy to keep our words between the two of us.
“Want to know something weird?” I ask when we’re about halfway through our meal.
I might be making a mistake, but keeping all these secrets is getting to me. I need to tell someone—to get another man’s perspective.
“I love hearing weird things.” Cody wags his brows playfully.
