6. Sam

6

SAM

"Call me whatever ya want; just don't call me late for dinner." ~ Archie "Witty" Whitlock

"Can you boys stay for some pie?" Old Man Pratt asked as he walked us out to our SUV.

"Oh, man." I pretended to be torn up by my response, "As tempting as that sounds, we can't."

It was Thanksgiving, our shift was over, and I knew that Kane wanted to get home to his daughter and new wife. My plans were to head over to Sunset Acres to see Witty and spend the holiday with him. Over the years, I'd spent the majority of my holidays at the Hale's. Once my mom passed, I'd just ended up there. But those times had always been with Milo and Mason. Milo was in the middle of a seventy-two-hour shift at the fire station, and Mason was in Virginia. He was going to try and come home for Christmas, but he wasn't sure he'd get the time off.

Even though I knew that I was still welcome, at least by Mr. and Mrs. Hale, I wasn't sure Kenna would want me there. She'd been acting so odd lately.

We drove away from the secluded farmhouse, and I waved once more. Old Man Pratt lifted his hand, then shuffled back into the house. I felt bad leaving the old guy. Today we'd been called out to his property because he called and reported that he'd woken up from a nap and his front door was open, so he thought someone had broken in. We checked out the property and there was no sign of an intruder.

Over the past year or so, I'd casually mentioned to Old Man Pratt that Witty had a more active social life than me. I'd told him about all the activities at Sunset Acres and even offered to pick him up and take him for a game night, but he said he wasn't interested.

I knew the truth: He just didn't want to admit he was lonely. He was too proud. Seeing his pride feed his isolation broke my heart a little, and I hoped that I didn't end up like him.

As we pulled into the station, my phone vibrated, and I looked down to see a text with a photo from my grandpa. He was seated at a table between Mrs. Colder and Mrs. Benson; both women were feeding him. He looked as happy as a pig in mud.

I couldn't help but smile, even though, deep down, I prayed that would not be me either. I wasn't sure which was worse, Old Man Pratt refusing company or Witty having too much company. As much as my grandpa seemed to enjoy living up to his Lothario reputation, I was beginning to hate my own.

Seeing the photo of Witty made me feel empty inside, just like all the meaningless hookups I'd ever had did now.

"Everything good?" Kane asked as he turned into the parking lot behind the station.

"Witty's having a very good Thanksgiving." I turned the screen so my partner could see.

Kane grinned. "It's like looking into your future."

That's what I was scared of. The last thing I wanted was to be man-hoeing it up in a senior home. It sounded lonely and sad. Plus, from what I'd heard, those senior living homes were breeding grounds for STDs. I'd gone thirty-six years without ever contracting any sexually transmitted diseases or having any pregnancy scares, knock on wood. I didn't want to spend my later years with crabs or chlamydia.

My phone vibrated again, and I looked down and read the message from Witty.

Witty: The ladies and I are going to retire for the day. All that turkey made us ready for bed. I'll see you at the game tomorrow.

He added a turkey emoji and a winky face emoji.

I wasn't sure how I felt about my grandpa bailing on me because he was about to engage in a threesome. Actually, I did know. Not great.

I hoped he wouldn't mention it at the game tomorrow. The annual Firefighters vs. Police Officers football game was held the day after Thanksgiving. The entire town typically turned out. I was looking forward to it because I knew Kenna would be there.

I had barely seen her the past week. I'd texted a few times to see if she wanted to have dinner or hang out, but she was always busy. It really felt like she was avoiding me when I needed her most. I hadn't even told her about the mid-life crisis I seemed to be experiencing since my birthday.

In fairness, it might have been going on longer than that. I hadn't been myself for a while. Hell, I hadn't had sex in over a year. I just hadn't had any desire to. I hadn't really missed it or been lonely until these past few months since Kenna's been pulling away. She was sort of my touchstone, my safe place, my home; without her, my world felt like it had fallen off its axis.

Kane pulled into a reserved space and shut off the engine. I reached for the door handle, and something caught my eye. Long, red hair shimmered in the sunlight across the street. It looked like pure gold. I'd always been a sucker for it. The first time I'd seen her hair was right after my parents and I moved next door to her. I was six, and she was four. I was in the front yard playing with Milo and Mason. She came outside wearing two long braids. I remember reaching out and touching one of them.

She'd thought I was messing with her, pulling on her braids because I was teasing her. But I wasn't. Her hair reminded me of spun gold, and I just wanted to know what it felt like.

Nearly thirty years later, I still had the impulse to touch her hair every time I saw her.

I'd been so mesmerized by her hair as I stared at her across the street that I didn't notice who she was talking to. She was with her brother and the new guy on the fire crew, who just started this week. I hadn't met him yet, but I'm sure he would be at the game tomorrow.

"I can't believe they brought in a ringer," Kane commented as we got out of the SUV.

"Ringer?" I repeated.

Remi Rhodes had recently moved back to town after living in San Diego, where he was a hotshot. He was marrying Kenna's cousin, Taylor, who also happened to be Kane's baby mama. And that's not where the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon ended. Kane's new wife, Ruby, was also Remi's little sister.

Small-town dating pools were the size of puddles.

He had just joined the fire department, but I didn't think that was who Kane was referring to.

Kane lifted his chin in the direction of the fire station, which sat cattycorner to the police station toward the new guy standing and talking to Kenna and Milo. "Jonah Walsh."

That name sounded familiar. At first, I thought I'd heard someone mention it because he was the new firefighter in town.

"He played for the Falcons and the Bears." Kane filled in the blanks.

"Oh shit, right."

That's why his name sounded familiar. He was from a few towns over in Parrish Creek and had made it to the NFL. JJ Briggs, who grew up in Wishing Well, had played professional baseball, but we'd never had a hometown boy make it to the NFL.

If memory served, after Jonah retired from football, he'd done some broadcasting. I remember hearing that he moved back home because he was starting a family, but that was about six years ago.

From the way he was looking at Kenna, he wasn't giving off family-man vibes.

"He was at the station in Parrish Creek, but he's going through a divorce."

Ah, so that explained why he was looking at Kenna like a starving man and she was a filet mignon. I couldn't see her face, so I didn't know if the attraction was reciprocated, but I had eyes and could see that the man was an attractive guy. He sort of resembled Charlie Hunnam, who was her celebrity crush. I'd been told I resembled Tom Hardy, who was her other celebrity crush, but even that wasn't making me feel better about the situation I was watching unfold.

Betty, our office admin and dispatcher, stuck her head out of the back door. "We got a call out on Highway 4. Traffic collision. I don't have anyone else to respond. Can you guys cover it?"

Kane glanced over at me. I knew that Ruby, his daughter Harper, and his grandad were waiting at home for him. He had a family now.

"I'll go."

A sense of dread settled over me. Was I experiencing a Thanksgiving version of Scrooged where I was being visited by the Ghost of Thanksgiving Future? First, I'd seen Old Man Pratt, who was clearly bummed to be alone on the holiday. Next, I'd gotten a text from Witty canceling our plans so he could get his freak on. And now I was volunteering to work so my partner could go and be with his family, and I had no one to go home to.

"Thanks, man." Kane pulled me into a one-armed hug.

"No worries," I assured him.

I ran in and grabbed my keys for the SUV, then headed back out. As I pulled out of the parking lot, Kenna was walking up to the station with bags of food.

I rolled down the window. "Movie tonight?"

"Um." She looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact.

"What?"

She didn't answer.

"It's Thanksgiving. Your parents will be in bed by eight; what plans could you possibly have?"

"I just…" Before she looked back up at me, she took a deep breath. "I don't think we should hang out so much."

My heart felt like a dagger had just been pierced through it and twisted. I felt sick to my stomach.

"What? Why?!" I demanded.

"I need to make room in my life for?—"

My radio buzzed, and Betty came over the line to ask me for my ETA. At the same time, my screen lit up, saying that there were casualties.

"I have to go."

She nodded. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving."

I'd flipped on my blues and twos and tore out of the parking lot. As I drove to the accident, my head was spinning from what I'd just heard. What did Kenna mean when she said we shouldn't hang out so much? Did that mean we weren't friends anymore? What had I done to make her feel that way?

I didn't have any of those answers, but I did know one thing: this conversation was not over.