Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Would it help if more people volunteered to visit Diesel?” I asked for lack of any other ideas.
“Maybe.” Maren shrugged. “It’s not simply that though. I told Dad I wasn’t sure I wanted to return to college for the fall term, and he gave me the whole don’t jeopardize your scholarship and future lecture. But you’d think I’d be all energized for my pre-med classes after seeing Diesel injured and you guys do the rescue—”
“You helped,” I reminded her as I polished the stainless fridge for the second time. I had a feeling that if we stopped cleaning, Maren might stop talking.
“Not really.” She wrinkled her petite nose. “That’s the thing. Between that and visiting Diesel in the hospital, being a doctor doesn’t feel…exciting. No, that’s not the right word. But it feels weird, like maybe I don’t want to be pre-med anymore.”
“Then don’t be.” Having had my own issues after the rescue, I found it far easier to give advice than to take it. But Maren was at the age when everyone went through varied options. Changing directions felt far different at forty-two. “Isn’t college supposed to be about switching majors? Finding yourself?”
“Maybe for other kids.” Her gaze turned far away. “I promised Doctor Dad before he died that I’d be a doctor like him.”
“Oh.” The breath whistled out of me. “I met your dad more than a few times. He wasn’t the type to hold any of you kids to something like that. He always said his greatest wish was simply for you four to be happy. I’m sure he’d understand if you chose another direction.”
“I’m not sure I will.” Her soft hazel eyes teared up, but before I could try to comfort her, she waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry. You don’t need my drama.”
“It’s not drama.” I patted her on the shoulder before she stepped away to straighten canisters on the counter. I followed her across the room but hung back to give her more space. “You have to be true to who you are now. You’re not the same kid you were in high school.”
Not the same person. I’d danced around that thought for days now. I’d tried to articulate my thoughts to Caleb, but I hadn’t understood it this clearly. I’d been one person in high school, another in the Rangers, and now, despite my belief that change was more for people Maren’s age, I wasn’t the same guy I’d been a year ago. I wasn’t the stoic sergeant, and the plans I’d made over my last few years in the military made less sense now. Also, my old beliefs around relationships belonged to that previous self.
Maren strode over to the back staircase. “Thanks for the talk, Tony. When I find out who I am, I’ll let us both know.”
She gave me a half-crooked smile before disappearing upstairs. I wasn’t sure I’d helped her at all, which left me feeling vaguely unsettled, a restlessness in my limbs. Cleaning done, I put my excess energy into watering the plants in Eric’s yard.
I didn’t know the difference between a dahlia and a marigold, but the work was monotonous yet satisfying. Enough that when Scotty came ambling out the back door, I was relaxed enough to give him an easy wave.
“Heading home?” I asked, intentionally not fishing for details about where Caleb might be.
“Yeah.” Scotty scrubbed at his short hair. His pale skin was blotchier than usual and his mouth was a tight line. “Might as well.”
Lord save me from a second round of teenage angst during an evening when my empathy skills were already in short supply. However, I couldn’t let him walk away any more than I had Maren.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine. Great. A-okay.” Scotty gave me the fakest smile in the entire world
“I’m not convinced,” I said dryly.
He made a rude noise. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“I was a teenager once.” That had sounded enough like Angel’s mom voice that I had to laugh at myself. “And okay, that sounded super cheesy, but try me.”
“You ever do something stupid?” Scotty spat the words.
“Of course.” Rather than teenage mistakes, though, my mind went instantly to Caleb. The stupidest, best thing I ever did was kiss him. And every stupid, reckless action since then had led to the best summer of my life. Couldn’t say I regretted any of that, which probably wasn’t what Scotty needed to hear. Instead, I made my voice carefully curious. “What kind of stupid?”
“Stupid like dumb shit that’s one step short of having a permanent record. And if I tell people about what went down last year, sometimes they act like stupidity might be contagious. Or like they need to hide their wallets and lock up the spray paint.”
“Ah. Judgmental people are the worst.” What I didn’t add because it wouldn’t be helpful was that expectations went both ways. For years, everyone had expected me to do the right and predictable thing to the point that wanting a life of my own felt like a radical act.