Page 9 of Trial By Fire
"Are you doing okay?" Bronwyn asks me. "I was…surprised you volunteered to take the girls today."
I wave my napkin list like a flag. "I needed some thinking space. I'm trying to prioritize what needs doing. And though we've only vaguely discussed it, I've…officially decided to move to Carolina Cove."
"Oh, that's great!" Bronwyn grins. "I can't wait to be the favorite aunty."
"You're also the only aunty. But I don't expect you to over commit," I add hastily.
Bronwyn scoffs "Oh, please. I can't wait to spoil the baby rotten. I'm so happy you're doing this, Linds. I'm so glad you'll be close to me."
"Me, too. I mean, I know you'll be busy with the store and…everything. Still, it'll be nice to live close by." I glance at Gabe and back at Bronwyn and sigh. "I, um, don't want to interfere with your life."
"You won't. You aren't," Bronwyn stresses.
I shake my head, identifying with Madi way more than I even realized. "That's nice of you to say, but I am. I'm grateful for the place to crash-land, but I'll find my own place as soon as possible."
"Lindsey, there's no need to worry about that," Bronwyn says.
"There is. You two are new and in love, and I don't want to be a third wheel while you're figuring things out. Besides, I'll need my own space. So will the baby. And it'll be easier to find something now rather than later when I can't see my feet."
Bronwyn looks uneasy but shrugs. "Fine. But please don't feel rushed. You've got plenty of time to find a place and a job. It'll work out. These things always do."
Yeah, maybe. But starting over from scratch? New town, new job, new living space—new baby on the way? Getting out of Bronwyn's way so she can live her own life?
I struggle to breathe and fist my list like it can somehow solve my problems.
New town. New baby. New life. The issue isn't so much making a plan.
It's figuring out which fire to put out first.
Chapter
Four
Kace
Another week in the hospital passes in a blur of pain, PT to practice getting into and out of the wheelchair and using crutches, endless doctors and blood draws, and all things medical. The highlight is always getting to see my girl—girls—at the end of the day. Sometimes Pierce brings them. Or Gabe.
But Lindsey pitches in, too.
Mads says Lindsey volunteers to bring them so that Bronwyn can stay at the bookstore and Pierce, an EMT buddy who works part time at the station as well as waitresses, can catch up on sleep. All I know is that I'm grateful for the help and know my girls are in good hands. That's a huge relief and one I can't take for granted.
Lindsey tends to make herself scarce after she walks the girls to the door. And she doesn't typically linger beyond small talk when she returns to take them home. Obviously my questions about her situation struck a nerve, so she makes a point of keeping things on a surface level.
I respect that. Because God knows there are a lot of questions she could be asking me about my situation with my girls, but she hasn't.
That said, it doesn't take a lot of probing to get a daily scoop from Dani about what she's overheard at the bookstore or fire station. I barely have to ask a question before my precocious daughter repeats every word she's heard that day.
I shouldn't encourage gossip, but since Lindsey is pitching in with my girls, I also want to know who they're around. What kind of person she is. That type of thing.
At least that's what I tell myself as I hint around for more and more info. Madi isn't as forthcoming as Dani, but Mads does offer up a comment or two whenever Dani repeats something she doesn't quite understand or gets something confused. Madi clears the air like a knowing Italian nonna before going back to her sullen self.
Mads and I are watching a replay of Friends in silence while Dani uses glitter markers to color on my cast. The guys are going to have a field day when they see all the pink—including flowers and a freaking unicorn—but I'll wear Dani's sweetness with pride. I am a girl dad, after all.
A soft knock sounds at the door, and all three of us turn to face the newcomer. My heart tugs when I spy her. Lindsey looks worse than she did a week ago. Thinner and paler and maybe even more green around the gills. I frown at the sight of her, wondering if she's eating enough. Resting enough. Obviously not, given her condition and appearance. "Hey, come on in. You're missing the party."
"Sorry. I don't mean to intrude, but—Madi didn't answer the text I sent."
"Sorry. My phone died, and I don't have a charger," Mads says.
