Page 79 of What Hurts Us

But Cal didn’t miss it. He draped his arm around my shoulders, a reassuring gesture as he caught the attention of the pretty woman. “You think you’re gonna steal those tickets out from under me, Miss Tyree?”

The blonde—Miss Tyree—looked barely legal. Her pale cheeks turned bright red at a little attention from tall, dark, broody, and hella sexy. “My dad’s a big fan. His birthday’s next week.”

Cal’s smile to her was soft—almost paternal. “Well, then, I hope you win, Caroline. It’s good to see you out and about.”

She looked like she needed a paper bag to breathe in. Her innocence was adorable. “Thanks, Officer Fletcher.”

He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’ve told you before. Just call me Cal. This is my fiancé, Layla. Don’t know if y’all have met.”

“Nice to meet you, Caroline,” I said, shaking her doll-sized hand.

“I think we’ve met, actually,” Caroline said. “Well, I’m sure you don’t remember me—it was a circus. But you came to the elementary school for First Responder’s Day. I teach kindergarten.”

First Responder’s Day—the day that Cal had asked me out the first time, and I shot him down. Little did I know he didn’t actually want a date. He wanted something more.

Something that would turn into so much more.

Gran stepped onto the makeshift stage that had been erected in the middle of the Community Center gymnasium and tapped the microphone. She gave everyone the two-minute warning to find their seats for the main event—the date auction.

We dropped into folding chairs near the back of the gym. I unzipped the luxurious jacket Cal gifted me for a little more breathing room. The firm weight of his body warmed the back of my shoulders as he draped his arm around my chair. “So,” I said quietly as the town slowly filled up the remaining chairs until it was standing room only. “What’s her story?” I tipped my head to where Caroline was seated next to a couple who were most definitely her parents.

Cal pressed his lips to my temple while his fingers mindlessly played with my hair. “When Caroline was a teenager, she got real sick. Her folks took her to specialist after specialist to figure out what was wrong. Eventually, she was diagnosed with lupus and needed a kidney transplant. They racked up some serious medical bills while she was on dialysis. The thing about organ transplants—getting to the top of the waitlist is like winning the lottery. My Gran, your Aunt Sepideh, and the rest of the Ladies Auxiliary spent most of that year going door-to-door, handing out flyers with the blood type needed to be Caroline’s donor and information on how to get tested to see if they were a match. The Ladies Auxiliary and the town raised enough money to cover all of Caroline’s medical bills and make it where her mom didn’t have to work while she was recovering.”

I blew out a breath. Caroline hadn’t just been the recipient of a new kidney. She was the recipient of a Falls Creek miracle. People helping people—going above and beyond to care for their neighbors.

“Who was the donor?” I asked.

Cal shook his head. “No one knows. Not even the Tyrees. The donor wanted to remain anonymous.”

I cocked a curious eyebrow. “But it was a living donor?”

He nodded. “That’s all we know.”

Gran, dressed in a Falls Creek PD sweatshirt and a pair of blue jeans straight out of the ‘90s, stood behind the podium and welcomed everyone to the annual Widows and Orphans Date Fundraiser. The rules were simple: the bids go up by ten dollars with each paddle raised, and the time and location of the dates had to be submitted to the Ladies Auxiliary for safety. All the dates were to happen in public. And hanky-panky—Gran’s words—was strictly forbidden.

The first date was announced—dinner at The Copper Mule and a wine and painting class with Wyatt Jepson. Paddles all over the gymnasium shot up as bidders hooped and hollered over each other. With the eyes of a hawk, Gran egged on the bidding until it was well over five hundred dollars.

Every cent was going to charity, but I couldn’t keep my eyes from bugging out when the winner, Tommy Fraiser, spent well over six hundred dollars to eat at the Mule and paint sunflowers with Wyatt. The two men chest-bumped for their required date host-date recipient winner photo.

When a night at the driving range in Chapel Hill with Chief Farnby went for a grand, I nearly passed out.

“These people throw some serious money around,” I whispered to Cal as Willa Farnby planted a kiss with her bright red lipstick on Lester O’Malley’s cheek. They’d probably make it a double date with their respective spouses.

“It’s all in good fun,” Cal said. “BJ took it a little too far last year. I didn’t want Gran to have to change the rules or cancel it and ruin it for everyone else, so I figured taking myself out of the equation was the best option.”

I spotted BJ in the crowd. She was done up like her usual Brandie Jean self but had been behind the refreshment table, serving coffee and pastries all night.

Somehow, she had gotten her hair net monogrammed.

“I think she means well,” I admitted. “Maybe a little misguided, but she’s genuine. I think that’s rare.” People who refused to be anything but themselves were an admirable kind.

When a date with Clarence Wilkins—the Falls Creek police chief of forty years ago—came up, Brandie Jean’s paddle shot in the air. The woman dropped five grand for a night of bingo that was sure to end before six in the evening so that Clarence could get to bed. BJ was genuinely thrilled to have been the winner. Clarence, ever the gentleman, presented her with a bouquet of red and yellow flowers as she strutted across the stage and gave the old man a big hug. They took their photo and walked off the stage, arm-in-arm. BJ listened intently as Clarence rattled on and on about bingo strategy and the merits of dauber brands.

“So, this is it, huh?” Beth slipped into the empty seat beside me and sipped on a cup of hot apple cider.

Cal offered a polite nod. “This is it.”

“You gonna bid on a date?” I looked down at my program. “Elijah Fisher volunteered for a date this year even though he’s with the fire department. He’s kinda cute.”

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