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Tessa found a note written on ivory stationery bordered with lilies of the valley in her grandmother’s perfect penmanship.
I defrosted the leftover beef stew if you want it for supper, and Edna brought over a strawberry-rhubarb pie made with fresh rhubarb from her garden. There’s vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Love, G.
Tessa pulled the container of stew from the refrigerator. If she knew Grandma was well settled with friends, she could look for a job, maybe in Saratoga Springs or Glens Falls. Glens Falls was within commuting distance, if not for the months of bad winter weather. Tessa opened the stew container, and her stomach lurched. But that would mean moving and operating the Majestic weekends only, even during the summer tourist season, or not at all. Wherever she went, she’d have to establish a whole new support system. She’d come to Schroon Lake nearly six years ago and was still working on fitting in. And this was the most comfortable place she’d ever lived.
She replaced the lid on the stew container. Pie and ice cream sounded like a better supper. It had three of the four major food groups—dairy, grain and fruits and vegetables. Her hand lingered on the container after she’d placed it back on the refrigerator shelf, her parents’ frequent reprimand sounding in her head. You have to set an example. You can’t simply choose to do whatever you want.
She should have the stew. What kind of meal was pie and ice cream? Tessa grabbed the pie and closed the refrigerator door. She could have whatever she wanted for supper. There was no one here to set an example of good eating habits for, and Grandma wouldn’t say anything. She cut a large piece of pie and smothered it in ice cream. Her cell phone rang as she polished off the last bite. She checked the number, figuring it could be one of only three people. Grandma checking up on her. Her heart warmed. Josh. The warmth ticked up a degree. Or Uncle Bob, whom she would call back later, or tomorrow.
She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello.”
“Tessa, it’s Maura.”
Her Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor. “Oh, hi.”
“I missed last week’s meeting and wanted to give you my new home phone number. We moved into the house yesterday.”
“Congratulations,” Tessa said.
“Thanks. I’ve got my work cut out for me the next few days unpacking.”
“Me, too. I’m getting the apartment above my grandmother’s garage cleaned out to rent. No one’s lived in it for years.”
“Have fun with that. I wanted to invite you to our housewarming party weekend after next.”
Tessa twisted her hair around her finger. “What day?”
“Saturday evening. Some of the others from the meeting are coming. You can bring a guest.”
“It’ll depend on whether I can get Myles to cover for me.” Relief edged with guilt flowed through her. She was thankful for the excuse. She didn’t know whom she’d bring except her grandmother. Josh didn’t know about her addiction. His hard feelings for his father had made her afraid to tell him and jeopardize their friendship—an accommodation to fitting in, like her drinking had started out as an accommodation to fitting in at college. She’d also chosen AA meetings in other towns where she’d be less likely to run into anyone from church or from the movie theater. Another accommodation.
“I hope you can come. Everything going well?”
“Yes and no.” Tessa told her about the loan for the theater, the contract with Josh for the work and his bomb that he expected to have a job somewhere else by the end of the year. “I don’t know if it’s the project and wanting so badly for it to work out or the thought of my good friend moving, but I’m unsettled.” She dropped her voice. “I wanted a drink last night, for the first time in forever.”
“You should have called me.”
“It went away as quickly as it came, and my grandmother had something she wanted to talk with me about.”
“You know what you have to do with your uncertainty,” Maura said. “Give it up to God.”
“I know. I’ll get back to you about the housewarming.”
“Great. Call if you do need anything, and I’ll see you tomorrow at the meeting.”
“I will. Bye.”
Tessa set her phone down, folded her hands and rested her elbows on the table. “Lord, I know only You can control my life. Direct me away from the pull of my addiction. Help me to know and accept the things I can’t change, like Josh’s inevitable move away from here, from me. I fear that I’ve let myself become too dependent on our friendship, that I’ve exchanged one dependency for another and that my reliance on him could jeopardize my sobriety when he leaves. Guide me to depend on You, the one who is always there for all of us. I place myself in Your hands. Amen.”
* * *
The fire siren went off at the same time Josh received the text. He drove directly to the Schroon Volunteer Fire Department hall, bypassing his original destination, the apartment above Tessa’s grandmother’s garage. A quick glance at the parking lot showed only one other vehicle. He turned off his truck and read the text. An accident on US Route 9, near Paradox Lake, with possible fire potential. An Essex County Sheriff’s deputy was already on the scene.
Josh heard the wind-down of a motorcycle slowing and turned to see Emergency Medical Squad members Jon Hanlon, a local obstetrician, and his wife, Autumn, a midwife, pull in. With only him and one other firefighter here, he still had time to call Tessa and let her know that he probably wouldn’t be over to work on the windows at the apartment tonight.
“Hi,” Tessa said, picking up on the first ring. “You just caught me. I was about to put my phone on vibrate.”
“Right. Monday night video clips.”
Tessa always turned her ringtone off and made him do the same, so any calls or texts wouldn’t interrupt their viewing. He’d forgotten all about their regular Monday date, or rather non-date, yesterday when he’d said he’d stop by the apartment tonight. Josh waited a second for her to ask him to join her.
“You headed over to the apartment?” she asked.
Josh tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “No, that’s why I’m calling. I’m at the fire hall. There’s been an accident on Route 9.”
“I’ll let you go, then. I have to run and meet Myles at the Majestic. He’s interested in learning how I choose the movies to show.”
“Yeah, more people are pulling in. I’ve got to go. I’ll see about the windows tomorrow night.”
“Sure, whenever you get to them. It’s your place now. Bye.”
Josh slammed the truck door behind him. There was no logical reason Tessa watching the video clips with Myles should bother him. He’d encouraged Tessa to make more friends since his plan was to move up the ranks at GreenSpaces somewhere else. But Myles was a kid, a college student, not really their contemporary. Josh strode across the parking lot and into the fire hall. Tom Hill, the fire chief and owner of a car repair shop in Paradox Lake, and his son, Jack, were already suited up.
“Hey, Josh,” Tom said, raising his hand to someone behind him. Jon and Autumn walked by them to the EMS vehicle.
“Grab your gear. It looks like we have enough volunteers now to take the tanker up.”
His brother Connor’s new father-in-law and brother-in-law had come in behind the Hanlons. With so many members working in Ticonderoga and other surrounding villages, getting a crew together could be hard.
Jack took his position behind the wheel of the truck while Josh and the others put on their protective gear. Tom pressed the button to open the hall door, and Jon and Autumn went ahead in the emergency vehicle followed by Tom in his pickup.
Josh and the other guys piled into the truck. Adrenaline rushed through him as the siren screamed and the lights flashed, increased by the fear he had whenever they responded to an accident that someone he knew might be involved.
He spotted the flashing lights of the sheriff car and the EMS vehicle when the fire truck raced through the intersection of Routes 9 and 74. Jack pulled the truck ahead of one of the accident vehicles, a pickup truck with a smashed left fender sprawled diagonally across the two lanes of the highway. The wrecker from Hill’s Garage was already there, along with one from a garage in Schroon Lake. But Josh didn’t see a second vehicle. He hopped off the truck and saw it, a compact station wagon with a crushed top rolled off the road in a small gully, resting against a stand of pine trees. A second emergency vehicle arrived from Newcomb as Jon and Autumn carried a stretcher down the incline.
Tom returned from talking with the deputy who was directing traffic. “A woman and two kids. Doesn’t look good. The other driver is intoxicated.” Tom jerked his head toward the deputy’s car, where a middle-aged man sat staring out the window.
Bile choked Josh. The unkempt dark hair and strong profile reminded him of his father. He turned away and caught his breath. It wasn’t him. Dad was dead, had been for nine years.
“Let’s get the hose and extinguishers down there. The jaws of life, too,” Tom commanded.
Josh joined his fellow volunteers, glad for the action to stop his thoughts. When he and the rest of the team reached the car, Jon and Autumn had a small unconscious form on the stretcher. He swallowed hard. The child looked about Hope’s age, maybe a little younger.
The child’s eyes opened. “Mommy?”
“We’re working on getting her out,” Autumn reassured him.
“There’s a woman and another child trapped inside,” Jon reported to Tom. “We talked to the little boy. The woman is unresponsive. Moriah and Newcomb are on their way.”
“Newcomb’s here,” Tom said. “Pulled in right after us.”
As if on cue, the second emergency squad came down the bank.
“We’ll get this little guy up,” Jon said. “I don’t like the looks of that smoke from the engine, not with all the dead winter growth.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Tom said. “Jack, Donnelly.” He motioned to the front of the car, and Josh and Jack began soaking it.
The third emergency squad arrived as Josh and the other firefighters were tramping back up to the road.
Tom approached the deputy when they reached the pavement. “If you want to get him to county lockup—” he jerked his thumb toward the deputy’s car “—we can take over traffic control.”
Josh made a furtive glance toward the car. The man had his head down, chin resting on his chest. It couldn’t be Dad. He looked away. One wrecker had removed the pickup, and he could hear the fading siren of the Schroon EMS team on its way to the hospital. Hill’s truck waited to take the car. Soon after, the other two rescue squads had extricated the woman and other child and taken off for the hospital.
“You guys can head back to the fire hall,” Tom said. “I’ll go back to the shop with the wrecker.”
“The guy in the cruiser,” Josh said. “Anyone we know?”
Tom shook his head. “The deputy said he didn’t have any ID.”
Josh wiped his forearm across his forehead. Responding to accidents always took more out of him than the actual physical demands warranted. He looked at the evening sky. If it wasn’t too late, maybe he’d stop by the Majestic and hang out with Tessa and Myles. The drunk in the deputy’s car and the little boy on the stretcher were juxtaposed in his mind. He could use some companionship to take the edge off before going back to the empty cabin.
His cell phone buzzed as he walked to the truck. It could be Tessa. He stopped and checked the phone. Connor’s, not Tessa’s, name flashed at him. Two missed calls and a text. His little brother was on his honeymoon. What could he want?
Josh swiped his finger across the screen and went stock-still when he read the text.
Call me. We got back from the beach, and there was a voice-mail message on my cell, forwarded from the parsonage phone. From Dad.
Chapter Four (#ulink_e8cae50f-fbc4-5dba-9d9d-14b183122f48)
Josh stared blankly at the phone screen. The colors of his apps blurred together. He shook his vision clear and jammed the phone back in his pocket. Dear old Dad. He had no doubt the call Connor had gotten was from their father. It fit his MO. Reappear after a bender expecting the family to welcome him home as if nothing had happened. Except this bender had lasted nine years. Dad had known better than to call him or Jared. He’d called Connor because Connor was a minister and most like their mother, making him the only one of them likely to take the call.
Josh grabbed the door handle and hurled himself into the back of the fire truck, looking over at the cleared accident scene. Bile rose in his throat as he focused his mind on the glimpse he’d had of the man in the sheriff’s car. Once they were back at the firehouse and he called Connor, the first thing he was going to ask was when his father had called and from where. His skin tightened. If it was his father, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d hurt someone driving drunk. Only this time it was kids.
“You all right, Josh?” Paul Delacroix, Connor’s brother-in-law, asked.
Josh blinked Paul and the other guys in the truck into focus. “Yeah.”
“Kids,” Paul’s father said. “I hate responding to injury accidents, but it’s always worse when kids are involved.”
“Right,” Josh said. And not only in car accidents.
When they got to the firehouse, Josh took his time stowing his equipment. Now he sat in his pickup in the parking lot, his finger hovering over Connor’s call notice on his phone screen. He touched it and pressed the phone to his ear.
“Hey, Josh,” Connor answered.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Connor laughed. “No, we just got back from supper.”
“So, was it really him?” Josh refused to personalize the man by calling him Dad.
“Yeah, it was Dad.”
“You’re saying that from the message he left, or you got back to him?”
“I called him back before we went to dinner.”
“And he was drunk.”
“He didn’t sound drunk, wasn’t slurring his words.”
That didn’t mean he hadn’t been impaired enough to hurt that family.
“Dad called to—”
Josh clenched his free fist. How could Connor sound so calm about this? “I have a good idea why he called.”
“He—”
Josh cut Connor off again. “What time did he call and when did you call him back?” Connor had probably called when their father was in the sheriff car and still had his cell phone, before the deputy had taken him to Elizabethtown and booked him. “Where did he say he was calling from?”
“Back off. Do you want to know what he said or not?”
“I’d like the answers to my questions. When you called and texted me, I was responding to an accident caused by a drunk driver. A woman and two kids hurt. When we got there, the sheriff’s deputy already had the other driver in his car. From his profile, the driver could have been the old man.”
“The woman, the kids, do you know who they are?”
“No, only that one of the kids looked about Hope’s age. The rescue squads took them to Glens Falls Hospital. Tom Hill probably knows.”
“I’ll call him later. As for Dad, he left the message this afternoon. I called him back about five-thirty at the Super 8 in Ticonderoga.”
The original call had been too early to be the old man calling for Connor to bail him out of the DWI. But the callback was in line with the accident before the deputy had left. “That’s what he told you, he was at the Super 8?”
“No, the number he called from that I called back was the Super 8. I did a reverse phone number lookup before I called.”
Josh rubbed the back of his neck as some of the anger drained out of him. The man who’d caused the accident this evening couldn’t have been their father. “Where’s he been and what does he want?”
“All over the country. California mostly. He said being homeless was a lot more comfortable in San Diego than in Plattsburg.”
“I’m supposed to feel sorry for him? He had a home here.”
“No. He’s in a twelve-step program and wants to make amends to us.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. I wonder what he really wants out of us.”
“He said he went down to Pennsylvania and talked with Mom.”
Josh shook his head. “Unbelievable that he could show his face to Mom after everything he put her through, including dropping off the face of the earth and letting her think he was dead. Did you call her? He was probably looking for his share of money from her selling the house in Paradox Lake, the one she wore herself out working at the diner to pay for.”
