Page 12 of The Spark Between Us

"July 10th at Cedar Elementary," he says, returning to business mode. "We should probably meet a few times before then to prepare materials and practice the presentation."

"Absolutely," I agree with suspicious enthusiasm. "I'm free whenever. Except Wednesday – I have that job interview."

"Right," he nods. "How about Thursday morning? After your interview, so you can let me know how it went."

"Thursday works."

"Good," he says, making a note on his calendar. "And Ellie?"

"Yes?" I look up to find him watching me with an intensity that steals my breath.

"Good luck with the interview. You'll be great."

Such simple words, but the sincerity in his voice makes them feel like poetry. "Thank you," I say softly.

A knock at the door interrupts our moment. Dad pokes his head in, eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he surveys the scene.

"There you are," he says to me with the subtlety of a foghorn. "Thought I heard your voice. How's the planning going?"

"Great," I chirp, probably too enthusiastically. "Grant was just bringing me up to speed on everything. Did you know children can operate fire extinguishers? I didn't know that."

“I see…” Dad's eyes bounce between us like he's watching a particularly interesting tennis match. "Don't let me interrupt," he adds, not budging from the doorway. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't lose track of time. You two seemed... engaged in conversation."

There's something in his tone that makes me want to throw my notebook at his head. Is he implying Grant might lose track of time while talking to me? Or that I would?

"We were just wrapping up," Grant assures him. "Ellie's got some great ideas for the demonstrations."

Dad smiles like he knows exactly what's going on. "I bet she does. My girl's always been creative." He winks at me, and I resist the urge to crawl under Grant's immaculately organized desk. "Staff meeting in 15 minutes. Ellie, you're welcome to stick around if you want to see the place."

I'm about to make up some excuse about helping our neighbor, Mrs. Finley, with her groceries when a burst of courage hits me like a splash of cold water. Why am I running away?

"Actually," I say, surprising myself and possibly everyone in a three-mile radius, "I'd love to stick around. If that's okay?"

Something flickers across Grant's face – surprise, panic, hope? – before he nods. "Of course it's okay."

"Perfect! Grant can show you around until our meeting. Right, Grant?"

Grant looks like someone just asked him to defuse a bomb while blindfolded. "Sure," he says after a brief hesitation. "Happy to."

"Great," Dad says, looking so pleased with himself I want to disown him on the spot. "I'll see you both at the meeting then."

With a final wink at me that has me contemplating witness protection programs, Dad disappears down the hallway, leaving Grant and me alone again.

"You don't have to stay," Grant says immediately. "I'm sure you have better things to do. Like... anything else."

"Do you not want me to?" I challenge, channeling bravery I definitely don't feel.

His eyes widen slightly. "No, that's not—I just meant—" He stops, takes a breath. "I'd like to show you around. If you want."

A warm glow spreads through my chest. "Good. Because I want to see everything. Especially that new shower room Dad mentioned the station got last year."

I'm KIDDING. I don't actually say that last part. What I actually say is: "Great! Lead the way, future chief Walker."

Grant gathers a few files from his desk. "Let me just drop these off first, then we can start the tour."

I follow him out of the office, shamelessly admiring the way his uniform shirt stretches across his shoulders. The station is busier now, with firefighters moving between tasks. Several call out greetings to me, and I wave back, feeling like I've returned home after a long absence.

"This place hasn't changed much," I observe as we walk. "Still smells like testosterone and protein shakes."

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