“I’ll figure it out. The damn news stations are everywhere. We have an in, though, if you didn’t…”
“If I didn’t screw it up. I know.”
“Sorry,” she said.
“Just be careful, Jojo. Do exactly what they tell you, when they tell you, and dress warm. It gets cold up there at night.”
“Thanks, Ellie.”
I hung up, wishing there was a polite way for me to ask her not to fuck my not-really-boyfriend.
I finished my report and emailed it to Jojo. I was surprised to see some shots she’d taken of the firefighters loitering around the hotel lobby. She was gifted, no doubt.
As the sun set behind the peaks, Wick rifled around in his drawers, and then his coat skidded along the sleeves of his sweater.
“Only two smoke breaks and no news from Jojo. Today was mighty fucking boring,” Wick yelled from his office.
“Speak for yourself,” I said.
He stepped out, straightening his scarf and pulling on his gloves. “Not all of us are spry enough to follow hotshots up mountains for a living. Are you back at your parents’?”
I cleared my throat. “No. I’m actually staying at Tyler’s apartment. I haven’t found a place yet.”
Wick frowned. “Did a story on the affordable housing here. You might find something in the spring if you time it right.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling even more hopeless than I had ten seconds before.
“Don’t call your man. I’ll take you.”
“Really?” I said, more surprised that he thought I was still using José than at his offer.
Wick let me smoke in his truck as he puffed on his own cigarette and exhaled out the crack of his window.
“You and Tyler, huh?” Wick said.
“Kind of … not really.”
“He’s a good kid, too. I figured you two would end up falling for each other. I could see it in his eyes.”
“Yeah?” I said, amused.
“I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. I know you’ve got other things going on, though. Probably feels like a lot on your plate.”
“It was his idea for me to stay here. And it’s just temporary.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m not using him. He insisted, and I didn’t have another choice.”
“Ouch. I hope you didn’t say that to him.”
“No,” I said, looking down. “I didn’t.”
“You know there’s an apartment above the MountainEar, right?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“It’s vacant and new. I built it the same time I built the building, in case Linda kicked me out. I’m an old blow hard, you know. Lost my looks. She’s still as pretty as ever. Jojo would look just like her without that clown makeup on her face.”
I choked out a laugh, coughing smoke and waving my hand in front of my face.
Wick pulled into Lone Tree Village, familiar with where to go. He parked, and I stepped out, bending down. “Thanks for the ride, Wick. I’ll figure out some reliable transportation ASAP.”
He waved me away. “I’ll pick you up in the morning. Not like the shuttles run out there. Just keep busy tonight, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Jojo said the same thing … to keep busy.”
“She’s told you. I’ve been through it. It’s probably the only reason I didn’t fire your foolish ass for stumbling out into an active fire zone. That, and you’re a damn good action photographer. Even better than Jojo.”
“Thanks again for the ride.”
Wick waved to me, and then backed out, braking just long enough to see me get into the apartment safe.
I locked the door behind me and flipped on the light, sighing at the sheer size of the task. The apartment wasn’t dirty, but I was about to unpack an undetermined year’s worth of belongings of both brothers. After changing into more comfortable clothes, I returned to the living room and opened the first box. I used every cabinet, shelf, dresser, and closet to put away clothes, photo albums, sports memorabilia, books, magazines, dishes, and cooking utensils in their proper place.
Once I cleared the last box from the living room, a pair of yellow gloves under the sink inspired me to clean the kitchen. Wick had told me to stay busy, and I was still two hours from bedtime. I wiped down the counters, scrubbed the sinks, and ran a load of dishes in the washer.
I opened the fridge, mentally prepared to see mold that would make an antibiotic lab envious, but all that was present on the pristine shelves was a six-pack of locally brewed beer.
I closed the door and sat on the floor with my back to the fridge, looking up. I had worked hard and felt lonely; there was no better excuse for a cold beer than that.
“Just go to bed, Ellie,” I said aloud. But I wasn’t tired.
I opened the fridge, and then closed it again, my fingers creating that comforting pop and fizz sound I loved so much. The living room looked like a real apartment, with actual decorations and lamps on the end tables at each end of the sofa and one beside the recliner. The dishwasher was still running with the last half of dishes and silverware, and there was a knife block and full salt and pepper shakers just out of the box on the counter.
I tilted my head back, and then licked the foam from my upper lip, smiling at the small victory while trying to ignore my utter failure.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I was sitting on the sofa with my feet propped on the coffee table, wiggling my toes in my knee-high fuzzy socks and wearing one of Tyler’s sweatshirts that was big enough to be a nightgown. I breathed in the smell of the pumpkin caramel latte candles I’d just lit, feeling comforted by the lines in the carpet from the vacuum and the gleam from the wood polish on the end tables.