Page 90 of The Complication with the Best Man

I’m at the fire station on duty when my phone buzzes in my back pocket. I’m expecting it to be Harper—or more accurately, I’m hoping it’s Harper—but when I look at the screen, I see that it’s my dad.

Got a big surprise for you. We’re in Lake Starlight.

They are? I can’t believe they wouldn’t tell me they were coming, but I’m glad they’re here.

For real? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

It was kind of a last-minute thing. We’ll explain when we see you. Are you and Harper free for breakfast tomorrow morning?

I’ll just be coming off shift, but yeah. Let me check with Harper and see if she’s free.

I pull up her contact and dial her number.

She answers on the first ring. “Hey, you.” I can hear her smile through the phone.

“Hey, you’re not going to believe this, but I just got a text from my dad. He and my mom are in Lake Starlight. They want to know if we can meet them for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I had no idea they were coming. My dad said he’d explain when I saw him. Are you free?”

“Yes, of course. I can’t wait to meet them. But oh god, what if they don’t like me? What am I going to wear? I need a haircut and a manicure and?—”

“Harp, they’re going to love you, and wear whatever you feel like. You look beautiful in everything.”

“Thanks, Finn.”

“I’ll tell them eight thirty at Lard Have Mercy. Sound good?”

“Works for me,” she says.

“All right. I’ll see you then.”

I hang up with Harper and text my dad back.

She’ll be there. Meet us at 8:30 at Lard Have Mercy. It’s a diner on Main Street. I’m at the fire station right now so I have to go.

Sounds good. See you guys then.

I’m excited that my parents are finally going to get to meet Harper, but I can’t help but feel as though there’s something more going on than I realize. My parents are about the least spontaneous people in the world, and it’s ski season.

* * *

The blareof the alarm wakes me in the middle of the night. As it always does, it takes me a split second to realize where I am—on shift at the firehouse. As soon as I do, I get my ass in gear and get moving.

Within minutes, we’ve all donned our gear and are on the truck, pulling out of the station. Apparently, a call has come in about a building fire just outside of town. The guys tell me it’s an old factory that’s been abandoned for a decade and that sometimes teenagers go out there to party.

By the time we arrive, flames are visible on one side, and the captain doles out the orders. We all get to work, and within a few minutes, we have a hose on the fire.

“Finn. Shane,” the captain barks over the noise. “Go check out the other side to make sure there’re no flare-ups over there.”

We do as we’re told, navigating through the few inches of snow on the ground and the dead grass that’s been left to grow through the cracks in the pavement. The two of us use our flashlights to navigate, and when we come around the corner, we’re met with a group of teenagers all huddled together. The girls are crying while the guys look as though they might throw up.

I know those looks.

Shane must too because we rush over to them, no small task with all our gear on.

“You kids need to get out of here,” Shane says.

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