Chapter 15

Liam had a spring in his step as he descended the stairs into the entryway of the BB. He'd been in a perpetual good mood since Claire had agreed to go out with him, even if they hadn't scheduled their date yet. He'd meant what he said; he didn't find her weak because of her lupus at all. But he still wanted to be cognizant that she had a health concern, so he'd urged her to take the time she needed to feel back to her best self before they planned their outing.

He grinned. Besides, having a little extra time to plan a stellar first date wasn't the worst thing either, even if the waiting itself was challenging.

Braden and Monica were in the BB entryway, Monica behind the desk in her usual spot, Braden in front of it, leaning over with a fond smile. Liam smiled too. It was cute, the way those two flirted with one another even though they were already married.

Then he chuckled at himself. He didn't usually think words like ‘cute.'

Apparently, his group of friends had been right. Love was always in the air in Whale Harbor, it seemed.

Not that Liam would ever be admitting to them that he agreed. He knew well enough to recognize that he'd be teased endlessly if he did that.

"Good morning," he called to the Watsons, raising a hand in greeting.

Monica shot him a smile as Braden moved to stand at his full height.

"Good morning," she said back. "What are you up to today?"

He nodded toward the front doors, where the soft sun of early spring was coming in through the windowpanes. "I was thinking I'd take a walk down by the water, since the weather is looking a bit nicer. I haven't really gotten to explore it that much, since every time I went down there, I had to bundle up basically to my eyeballs to protect myself from that icy ocean wind."

Braden gave a playful shudder. "Try going out on a fishing boat before the sun is up, my friend. That'll give a new meaning to ‘icy wind.'"

"I think I'll leave that to you, thanks," Liam quipped.

"Darn," Monica fake-whispered to her husband. "That almost worked."

"I'll get him next time," Braden returned in the same tone.

All three of them laughed before exchanging pleasant farewells as Liam headed outside.

He walked for a long time, not paying much attention to his surroundings, just enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. In Boston, he would have put in headphones and listened to music or a podcast while he walked or jogged, and while he enjoyed those activities, there was something to be said for the simple pleasure of listening to the quiet sounds of nature instead.

After a while, he found himself at a craggy pile of rocks which, once he climbed them, turned into a sheer cliff that led into the crashing waves below. He took a deep breath as he looked out at the water, marveling at the magnificence of it. These rocks had stood the test of time; they'd withstood the pounding waves for eons. And both rocks and ocean were so much more than him. They were stronger, longer lasting, bigger.

And yet here he stood, among them, feeling at peace.

Feeling, for once, like he didn't need to control or shape the world around him. He could just be.

A smile spread across his face as he settled into that feeling. He was happy here. He didn't feel like he was constantly fighting for something… he didn't even know what, exactly, he'd been fighting for back in Boston, hadn't even really recognized that he was fighting until he'd gotten here. The difference was a relief.

Then, as if to remind him that the outside world did exist even when it felt like it was just him and the ocean, his phone rang.

"Hey, Mills," he said into the phone, somehow not surprised that this reminder of his life before Whale Harbor did nothing to diminish his sense of peace.

"Hey, Hiller, I got a question for you." Miller never had been one for pleasantries. "What kind of phone you got?"

Liam frowned, confused, glanced at the object in his hand, then reported its make back to his friend.

"Huh," she said. "Weird."

This was, he was almost certain, a trap. "Why's that weird, Miller?"

"Because," she said with the satisfied tone of someone who was about to land a punchline, "I have it on good authority that that model makes outgoing calls. I assume you didn't know this since you never call me."

Despite himself, his lips twitched into a grin.

"Yeah, yeah," he groused, more for show than anything. "Why should I call you when it would deny you the opportunity of making fun of me?"

"I do love to make fun of you," she agreed warmly. "Anyway, how's it been? Have you gone full townie yet or what? The firehouse is boring without you. The other day I had to work out with a probie. A probie," she emphasized, referring to probationary firefighters.

He chuckled. Probies were overeager and inexperienced and would absolutely drive someone like Mills up the wall.

"My condolences," he said dryly.

"You're joking, but it was dire," she retorted. "So, tell me. When are you coming back?" She paused and her voice was sly when she spoke again. "You are coming back, aren't you?"

He hesitated, which likely revealed more than his words ever could.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I do know I'm not coming back yet… but I'm not sure how long ‘yet' is going to last."

"Noooooo," Mills moaned. "No, Hiller, don't do this to me. You've gotta come back. Think about it. We've got…" She paused, clearly trying to think of something. "Boston cream pie! And the Red Sox! And, uh—oh yeah! Lobster rolls!"

"I'm in Rhode Island, Mills, not on the moon. We have all those things here."

She groaned dramatically. "Stupid small towns. Why do we even have them anymore, when we've invented cities?"

Liam laughed over his friend's grumbling. Miller was a city girl, born and bred, and didn't see the point of ever going outside Boston city limits. He'd once asked if she'd ever visited New York City, thinking another major metropolis might appeal to her, and she'd responded that she couldn't risk getting arrested over fighting with a Yankees fan, so no. The department didn't like their firefighters going to jail.

On second thought, he mused as he listened to his friend good-naturedly complain about him, I should introduce Mills to Dominic Reeves.

They'd either become best friends or enter into a vicious argument about the Red Sox's lineup.

"All right, all right," Mills said when she ran out of steam with her complaints. "Tell me what's so great about this place, huh?"

Liam settled down on the rock, his legs dangling over the edge. It was cold and hard beneath him, but in a way that felt solid and secure.

"It's quieter here," he said. "Slower. It gives me space to think without all the noise and pressure."

Mills's voice came back a bit more serious. "I think that sounds nice. For you, I mean, not me," she added, briefly teasing again. "But you sound better, Hiller. Less… oh, I don't know. Before you left, you seemed like you were always waiting for something to jump out and get you. Really tense, just all the time. And you don't sound that way anymore. I'm glad." She cleared her throat; this was more sentiment than he knew his friend was comfortable with. "I was getting a little worried about it. But you sound better, and I'm happy for you. I want that for you."

"Thanks, Mills," he said, letting his gratitude take up the space it deserved. When he figured Mills couldn't take any more sincerity, he threw her a bone. "Also, I met someone."

Mills let out a whoop that nearly burst his eardrum after his quiet morning walk.

"Say it ain't so!" she crowed. "Liam Hiller is married to his career, you silly thing!" She cackled gleefully, and Liam grinned too. He could just see her, head thrown back, curls wild. He was lucky to have a friend like Mills.

"Okay, okay, I'm back," she said when she'd calmed down a bit. "You got a girl? Tell me everything."

He put his free hand against the cool solidity of the boulder. "Well, her name is Claire, and I'm planning our first date."

Claire felt a twinge of nervousness as she sent out the text message.

CLAIRE: Hey, all! Any chance anybody is up for a reschedule of the movie night I had to cancel last week? I'm down to host. And sorry again for cancelling!

MARTY: I have a policy where I don't accept apologies that are unnecessary, and since it was not your fault at all for cancelling and nobody is mad about it at all, I'm ignoring that part.

She added a series of emojis, including a smiley face with a tongue sticking out, a girl flipping her hair dismissively, and a television set, all of which made Claire smile.

MARTY: That last one means I'm in for a movie reschedule, of course!! But no more unnecessary apologies or I'll give you my sternest look.

Claire thought about her fun-loving friend as she typed back.

CLAIRE: I'm actually not that scared of that.

MARTY: FINE. I'll make CHARITY give you a stern look. She's a mom. She knows how.

CHARITY: That's true.

CHARITY: And I second everything said above! Apology not necessary, and movie night sounds so much fun!!

MONICA: Me three!!

DARLA: Me four!!!

After some back and forth about their schedules—and giving Charity a chance to check with Dominic to ensure he would be available to stay with Lucas and Addie—they discovered that they were actually all free that evening and made plans to meet at Claire's house at seven.

DARLA: Okay, I have one request though. Can we do pajama-party style? I have been wearing cute clothes all week at the museum, and I want to just lounge in some yoga pants.

This idea was met with great enthusiasm.

CHARITY: And Claire, don't think we're not going to talk about how Liam Hiller came in seeking desserts that match your dietary restrictions.

MARTY: Ooooh!

Claire laughed, then set her phone aside to tidy up a bit before her friends came over, feeling grateful that she was a neat person overall and had little cleaning to do. She even had time to dash over to Harvest Grocery store to get some snacks and drinks, including wine for her friends and the fancy glass bottles of sparkling juice she liked to have for a special treat every now and again.

She had just laid out a neat little charcuterie board with salami, cheese—both dairy and non-dairy—fruit, and chocolate when a knock came at her front door. She let in Monica, who had her own snacks in tow, and then held the door open for Charity, who was just coming up the driveway herself.

"Oh my gosh!" Monica gushed when she saw Claire's spread. "Well, now my potato chips and popcorn feel so boring."

"Not at all," Claire reassured her, taking the grocery bags from Monica's hands and depositing them on the kitchen counter. "Because I work from home, getting to do something dressy is always exciting for me."

"And then we come in and make it PJ night," Charity said apologetically.

Claire laughed. "Oh no, I was very happy to get to stay in comfy clothes. I'll get to dress up more than I want to, soon enough."

She'd been thinking of working at the flower shop, but Monica sent her a wink. "You mean because you're going to be going out with a handsome man who just so happens to live in my BB."

"If you start talking about that before the others get here, they'll kill us," Charity warned playfully.

Luckily, Darla and Marty arrived only a few minutes later, whereupon they joined Charity and Monica in urging Claire to give them the latest on her flirtation with Liam.

Claire found herself blushing as she explained how Liam had brought her dinner when she wasn't feeling well.

"It's kind of amazing, you know," she said thoughtfully as the group curled up around her living room, drinks and snacks in hand, movies abandoned in favor of conversation. "Everyone is so kind about the pauses I need to take in order to keep my health on track. I'd always assumed people would be more begrudging, but Liam was wonderful, and you four too, of course."

"Oh, sweetie," Charity said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Of course. And we'll remind you of that as often as you need it too."

"Plus," Darla added slyly, "you'll find out that you get to give us the same grace in return soon enough. For example, I am about to complain at length about how my perfect, adorable, precious monster of a puppy chewed up one of my favorite paintbrushes."

She launched into her tale, and the way she recounted finding the paintbrush bristles scattered around her house like they were clues in a whodunnit before finding the cluster stuck to Scout's snout, revealing the culprit, had the group in stitches.

"You know what you need?" Charity asked. "A puppy playdate. Let's find a time for you to bring Scout to run around the yard with Milo. And Lucas and Addie, of course. Get them all so tired that Scout can't destroy your things and all three of our little chaos machines are too exhausted to stay awake. Then Dominic and I can have an evening to ourselves." She looked wistful. "I really want to watch a movie that doesn't have a single animated character."

"That sounds amazing," Darla agreed. "If it works out, maybe we can try to do something on a regular schedule? I think it would be good for Scout to meet another dog."

"Absolutely," Charity said.

"Or," Monica said slyly, dragging out the word. "You could just have a baby yourself! Then your baby could play with Scout, and Auntie Monica could come snuggle them both."

Darla pasted on a confused look. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were my friend Monica, but I see now you're actually my mom wearing a Monica disguise."

They all laughed, then Marty sat up sharply.

"Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "Claire distracted us with her gratitude and we never got the full dirt on her handsome firefighter!"

Claire rolled her eyes as the attention came back to her… but it was all for show. She was having so much fun.

"Well," she said slowly, heightening the drama while her friends looked at her expectantly. "We might… maybe… possibly be going out for a date sometime soon."

"Yes!" Marty cried, pumping both fists.

"Tell us everything," Monica urged. "Do you know when? Do you know where? Do you know what you're going to wear?"

Claire laughingly answered their questions, although internally her mind was on everything Liam had told her about his past. She wouldn't share that with her friends, since it was clearly something he preferred to keep private, which made it mean all the more to her that he'd told her about it. She was happy he'd trusted her enough to do so, even as she regretted that he'd suffered through so much.

Surrounded by such a warm group of friends, however, she couldn't help but feel that hope was on the horizon. And maybe that hope extended to Liam too. Maybe he could come to accept that nothing that had happened during that terrible fire was his fault.