Page 49 of First Surrender

“Uhh, maybe three years ago now. I was making decent enough money as a trooper to hire a home health aid while I worked. That helped.

“Eventually, though, I decided to build this house because I needed everything on one level. At night, in the house I grew up in, I couldn’t hear her if she needed me because my room was upstairs. Once she tried making a break for it in the middle ofthe night I knew I needed to find a safer place for her to live.” He shrugs.

“She didn’t get a chance to live here at all?”

“No. Six months before it was completed she took a turn. She couldn’t take care of herself at all it seemed like. She needed help 24/7 and I wasn’t able to do it. I painted her room, just in case, but once I looked into the assisted living home, I realized it was the best choice for her. It still makes me feel guilty.”

I can’t believe he’s telling me all of this, but then again, we did enact a truce regarding our family. I guess it’s safe territory.

“That’s a lot of responsibility for a teenage boy to sign up for back then, even if you didn’t realize the commitment at the time. I’m sure she is proud of you and grateful for all that you’ve done. You could have left her hanging a long time ago.”

“I would have never done that.” He shakes his head incredulously as if the idea itself doesn’t belong in his brain.

“I know.” My words soften him immediately.

He looks at me thoughtfully, appreciatively, as if he hasn’t had many people in his life recognize the sacrifice he has made.

“How did you deal with all of it? I’ve only had Dec for a year and I’m drowning.”

“You’re doing better than you think. Trust me.”

I shrug off his compliment. It makes me feel too… Good. When he says nice things to me, I forget we aren’t supposed to like each other.

“Dec didn’t luck out in the parent department… I have to be better than them for his sake,” I explain.

“I didn’t have a dad growing up,” he admits, surprising me. “I knew that I was going to make something of myself and prove the unknown man wrong I guess. Dec will do the same, he’ll be fine.” His assurance shouldn’t matter but it does feel nice to hear.

“Did you always want to be a cop?” I ask while the opportunity is here to get more information out of him.

“No, I wanted to work in sports medicine and be a trainer on the field at professional football games.”

“You didn’t want to play? You look like a linebacker.”

He squints his eyes as if he’s trying to decide if that was an insult or not. It wasn’t, but I like that I can keep him on his toes.

“Being good at sports was the only thing that made me fit in as a kid but after a couple of my own injuries, I realized that I was more interested hanging out in the training room or on the sidelines than on the field. Fixing people up seemed more enticing than getting concussions for another decade.”

I glance at his head and consider making a joke about having a concussion or two, but I recognize the sincerity in his story and I change my mind. I tuck my bottom lip into my mouth and simply mumble, “Hmm,” to encourage him to continue.

“With my mom sick though, law enforcement was the best option. I didn’t need a ton of schooling, the pay and insurance were decent, and I could stay around here for her.

“When the opportunity to run for Sheriff came about, I realized it was the only way I could get to the pinnacle of my career without leaving Rollins County. As a state trooper, I would have bounced all around the state eventually if I wanted to work my way up.”

“So you accidentally found yourself as the Sheriff of Rollins County.” I laugh to myself. How annoying that he’s so good at everything. Except cooking.

“I guess. I want to fix all the messed up stuff happening but it’s been a long year. I can’t keep up with paperwork and working the road when we’re short-staffed. It’s been a nightmare, honestly.”

“Finally, he’s human. I wondered all along if you were a cyborg.”

He laughs, mockingly. “It takes too much energy to show emotion. The only problem that I have with that, is you. So thanks, you’re exhausting.”

I give a dramatic bow, making him do that thing where he looks up toward the ceiling as if he’s praying for strength.

The next day, I’m cooking and it’s the best I’ve felt in a long time, being back in the kitchen and in my element. Our apartment was not even close to as nice as this though. It’s almost comparable to the professional equipment I used in culinary school. I had to stop what I was doing multiple times to unpeel plastic wrap from utensils and the appliances.

Me: Do you want me to bring your lunch to you?

I accidentally threw away his lunch last night while purging the gross meals from the fridge. It wasn’t until I was cooking that I realized my lapse and that he went to work without food. I like the arrangement we made and I am not going to screw it up this early on.

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