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After some discussion, Claire went into the house and came out with a package of hotdogs and metal coat hangers.
Grant grabbed a couple of each and headed in her direction. “So, change of plans. How do you feel about fire-roasted hotdogs?”
Molly grinned. Just because she wasn’t laying down roots didn’t mean she couldn’t like it here. “Who doesn’t love a good weenie roast?”
“Let me get this straight. You guys can save the world one turtle at a time, but you can’t handle a couple of burgers on the grill?” Molly teased.
Grant chuckled and held his hotdog on a stick over the flames of the firepit. “We let that one get away from us, didn’t we?”
“Little bit.” Molly shot him a sidelong glance.
Grant took a seat on the stone bench and spun his hotdog over the flame. “And what about you, Ms. High-and-Mighty? Are you a master griller?”
“Who me?” Molly claimed the spot next to him, sharing the small space with him as she leaned forward enough to hold her stick in the fire. “No way. I should never be trusted with open flames. I’m more of a keep-you-company-while-you-cook-my-food kind of girl.”
“So I shouldn’t be expecting an invitation to dinner anytime soon?”
She shrugged. “Not unless you want brownies. I make some pretty good brownies. And, I hate to brag, but I can scoop ice cream like a champ.”
“I like ice cream and I’ve never said no to a brownie.” Grant pulled his hotdog away from the heat and examined it, not that it mattered what it looked like. At this point, he was so hungry he would eat anything. He grabbed one of the buns he’d brought over and took a bite. “Kinda wishing I had a brownieà la modeto top off this meal.”
Molly laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t help you out tonight, but next time, for sure.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” He liked the thought of next time when it came to Molly. He found himself hoping there were a lot of next times.
Molly kept her attention on the hotdog she was roasting. She pressed her lips together as if she was trying to decide something. A couple beats of silence passed before she spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me that your doctorate was in animal habitat research?”
Grant paused mid-chew. “What?”
She pulled her hotdog off the flame and looked over at him. “When I asked what you studied, you said marine biology. But you left off the part where your focus was on research and habitat design.”
Normally, Grant would’ve carefully sidestepped that question. What he studied didn’t have anything to do with his job here. What mattered here was that he knew turtles, and he could keep Turtle Rehab operating in the black.
But now things had the potential of changing.
“I…” Grant scratched his head, trying to think of a way to simplify the last six years and all the decisions that had gone into it. “Would you accept that it’s a nickname for an overly wordy field of study?”
She shot him a look that said she wasn’t buying any of the fluff he was selling.
He let out a sigh and shoved a hand through his hair. “To be technical about it, my degree is in marine biology, which is an umbrella term. My specialty is habitats of marine life with a focus on research.”
Molly turned all of her focus to him and leaned in, her eyes lit up with genuine interest. “That sounds fascinating. Tell me more.”
Her attention filtered through, making him feel valued and seen and, for the first time since he’d found out about the job, Grant felt the urge to share the news that had been weighing on him. And it wasn’t lost on him that he didn’t want to share this with just anyone. He wanted to share it with her.
The realization left him slightly off-kilter. He took the hotdog stick out of her hand and held it over the flame to finish cooking it for her as an excuse to focus on something else as he voiced his secret. “I was recently approached about a job that would put me back in that world.”
She sat straight up; joy resonated from her. “Grant, that’s great!”
Was it? He watched the flames dance, thinking through the positives and negatives of the university director position. Or maybe he should say positives and negative, in the singular. “First of all, I wasn’t offered the job. Only the chance to interview for it.”
“Still, it’s a big deal. Congratulations.” There was a genuine excitement for him in her voice that somehow boosted his confidence.
“It’s a pretty great opportunity.” He allowed himself to envision himself in that role, being among his friends and doing research that could affect not just one turtle at a time, but hundreds of turtles, along with a lot of other ocean animals. But before he let himself get carried away, he shut it down. “But deciding whether to take it or not gets a bit complicated.” He glanced around the backyard. This place, much like the room at lunch, was also full of people he loved, and loved working with. His being here was important as well.
“Because of family?”
He nodded. “Like I said, though, it’s a long shot. Right now, I’ve only agreed to be interviewed along with an impressive list of candidates.” He pulled her hotdog off the fire and passed the stick to her.
