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My jaw set, I pulled out a Diet Coke for my mom. Internally cursing Bryce Storm, I pulled a Rice Krispies treat from the basket near the checkout. On second thought, I grabbed another. They were small, and I was mad enough to need the extra sugar kick.
I silently fumed the entire walk back to the therapy services building.
Not even the antics of the rambunctious young kids in the waiting room cheered me up.
I was going to go to the firehouse after therapy and give Bryce a piece of my mind. And if he was out on a call, then I would just wait until he got back. Because this couldn’t wait.
I had to dispel him of any notions that my staying in Minden was even a remote possibility.
I had a life in LA. A job. Potential movies just waiting to be made.
I had finally started gaining traction in my career. Why would I give up my dreams just when I was on the brink of achieving all of them?
I tore a chunk of the marshmallow treat off with my teeth and glared at the wall as I planned my confrontation.
In a few minutes, the therapist escorted Mom back into the waiting room. She looked worn out, but proud. Her smile snapped me out of my angry wallowing.
“How’d she do today?” I asked the therapist.
“She’s doing great. Right on track for expected recovery. Keep taking it easy.” He handed me a printout. “Here are some exercises for you two to work on each day at home until her next appointment. Don’t go easy on her,” he said with a wink. “Sharon knows how far she is supposed to go.”
“Thank you. I won’t. We’ll see you later this week.”
I turned to Mom. “Do you need to sit for a minute before we go back to the car?”
Mom shook her head and kept walking. “If I stop, I’m not getting up for a while. So let’s just get home, all right?”
Thirty minutes later, Mom was safely settled into the recliner and already asleep.
I marched back to the car and drove to the fire station. A peek through the windows confirmed the engine and trucks were all parked inside.
Inside, I found Bryce on a computer, watching a video with headphones on. I couldn’t tell what it was about, but it looked like training of some sort.
Jake and Matteo were playing pool across the room. Jake waved, and I pointed to Bryce.
Jake smiled. “Yeah, sure. He won’t mind.” He turned back to his game.
I came up behind Bryce and leaned close to his shoulder. I pulled out his earbud, and he turned around. A smile spread across his lips. “Hey, Krys, what’s up?”
I glared at him. “We need to talk.” I looked around the room. “In private.”
* * *
BRYCE
I led Krystal to the conference room, wondering about her change of mood. Despite the slight tension of trying to keep my distance, last night we had a great time and made some progress on the event. But mostly, it felt like old times—laughing and joking and just having fun with each other.
Now, she was looking at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
“What’s going on, Krys?”
“Don’twhat’s going on, Krys,me! How could you?”
My mind raced. I needed to catch up. What is she talking about? Luckily, I didn’t have to wonder for long.
“You told your mother you’re trying to win me back and convince me to stay?”
I winced. I’d totally forgotten to send that text this morning. The alarm had ended up being a suspected gas leak, which meant securing the scene until the gas company could show up. All the way from Indianapolis.
