Page 17 of The Falcon and the Foe

“Over time, with each meeting, you will connect and form bonds as a group. But First Aid is an essential part of being a Falcon.”

Cal clapped twice, each clap a ringing in my ears.

“We will have lots of time to practice First Aid, but you only get one chance to make a first impression.”

“Says the man with the wrinkled shirt who shows up late,” I muttered under my breath.

“Why don’t we do the blindfold walk now while the sun is still out, then we can come back inside to practice First Aid?”

“A blindfold walk?” Quentin asked, ears perking up. As did the ears of the other scouts.

Cal nodded excitedly. “Yeah, so what you do is one person puts on a blindfold, and the other scouts have to—”

I clapped twice. Cal ignored me.

“They have to direct them out of the woods. You’ll be each other’s eyes.”

Clap clap!My hands stung from clapping with all my might.

“We can do the blindfold walk at a later date when everyone has better training.” My jaw hurt from gritting my teeth. “But tonight is bandaging!”

“I feel like we do a lot of First Aid, Dad,” Quentin said, no doubt egged on by Chase.

“Because it’s important.”

“First Aid will be here next week,” Cal said. “But does everyone even know everyone else’s names? We should go around and play two truths and a lie.”

“What is this, a sorority slumber party?” I spat out.Clap clap

Calclap clappedback. “Let’s put it to a vote. Raise your hand if you want to do the blindfold walk first.”

Each hand that went up was another knife going into Caesar. Quentin kept his hand down, though I could tell it was killing him. The mutiny enflamed me. I put my time into planning these meetings, into preparing these young men and women for challenges that lay ahead. Cal wanted to flush that and turn this into a gay old time at Chuck E. Cheese. I’d rather bandage his mouth shut.

“Scout Leader Cal, since you’re still in training, you don’t have the authority to lead activities yet. You can’t even put on your uniform correctly,” I said with a humorless chuckle. “I will keep this idea in the hopper, but for now, we are practicing First Aid, and that is that.”

I managed a smile for the scouts, but I couldn’t help cutting my eyes to Cal and narrowing them into the meanest glare I could muster.

6

RUSS

CAN YOU MEET FOR LUNCH?

The text buzzed on my phone in all caps. I was in the middle of building out a new efficiency report at work. This one measured how fast our sales team was closing deals. Working in business operations allowed me both the flexible schedule to take care of Quentin and the indulgence of searching for ways to be more productive.

It seemed that when I was leaving the womb, only right-brained genes were available for the taking. Four years earlier, my sister, Monica, had nabbed all the left-brained ones.

Sure, I texted back to my sister.And you don’t need to text in all caps. This isn’t an emergency.

Yes, it is. I want to see my brother.I got nervous for a second before she added five heart emojis.

I smiled at the phone screen before returning to the three computer monitors positioned on my desk. Russ and Monica, named that way years beforeFriendswent on the air. We used to think of ourselves as inspiration for the show—only one letter off—except my Monica couldn’t cook, and I wasn’t as annoying as TV Ross.

One of the operations managers waved to me through the windows as he walked by my office. Three years ago, I’d finally been promoted to Head of Operations, which entitled me to my own office where I got to look out at the operations team from floor-to-ceiling windows. EbbCo had converted the old Sourwood firehouse into a hot new tech space complete with a ping-pong table, fridges full of La Croix, and a sleek open floor plan.

Meet me at Caroline’s. And make sure your hair is combed.

I rolled my eyes at the text but checked out my hair in the monitor reflections before returning to the challenging world of data.

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