Page 88 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
I cross my arms, bare feet pressing into the worn floorboards. “What do you want, Richard?”
He turns toward me but doesn’t answer right away. His eyes sweep the space again, the disgust subtle but sharp enough that I feel fifteen again, small, unwanted, never quite right.
“I have to say,” he starts, “you’ve been incredibly hard to find.”
I blink. “That’s the point.”
He ignores that. “People here are… tight-lipped. Which I respect, honestly. But I had to pull a few strings to find you. I’ve been here since mid-morning, and I just got to you now. It’s impressive for a small town like this.”
Typical.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “If you’re here to talk about influence or power or whatever you think still works on me. You can leave now.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he picks up the bottle of wine, $12.99 at the local grocery store, and turns it in his hands.
Heat crawls up my neck. I cross my arms, suddenly self conscious. “Really. What do you want?”
“I’m here,” he finally says, “because your mother asked me to be.”
That stops me short.
I stare at him, searching for any sign that this is a joke. A laugh sticks in my throat. My mother? The woman who watched him tear me apart for years and never once raised her voice?
The last time I spoke to her was when I told her that I was keeping Parker; since then, I ceased to exist for her.
My father, unaware of my inner thoughts, continues speaking, “She’s worried about you. About Parker. She thinks I owe you an apology,” he adds, quieter now. “And… she’s right.”
His thumb rubs at the label, peeling the corner. “I was harsh, and I shouldn’t have threatened you with Parker.”
The air thickens.
I wait for the but.
It doesn’t come.
Instead, he sets the bottle down and finally meets my gaze. For a heartbeat, I’m fifteen again, desperate for him to see me, and I know if he wants to be a part of Parker’s life, I won’t say no.
But I don’t say anything yet. I just continue to watch him, waiting for the catch.
He steps closer, voice gentler now, “I shouldn’t have said the things I said, Katherine. I want the best for you, I didn’t mean to threaten you.”
My throat tightens.
“Your mother wanted me to say this in person. She thinks we should fix this. Try again.”
Try again.
It sounds almost believable. Just maybe, this could be real, and for a flicker of a moment, I imagine it. A version of this night, a night when he means everything he’s saying. Where Parker has grandparents who show up for birthdays, who love without conditions, who see us as enough.
“I—” My voice shakes. “I’m not saying I’ll forget. But if… if you and Mom want to be part of Parker’s life, I won’t stop you.”
He doesn’t smile.
He doesn’t even look relieved.
Instead, his eyes drift to the table again. And I watch him calculate.
“Good,” he says. “Because now that I’ve tried your mother’s way, I expect you’ll see reason and come home.”
