Going Home - Chapter 28

The next two weeks was chaotic. Because Tessa no longer needed the protection of living with others, what with Lonnie being gone, she and I switched. We moved her into the apartment I was renting so she could start to work on her independence, while I moved into the house, although I opted to move into my old bedroom for now instead of my parents’ old room, since that would have been just too weird.

We also started working on the process of getting the food bank up and running. The loan came in the same day I dropped Mom off at the airport. Rosita was excited to get started, although there were still a lot of steps to handle before anything actually got built.

Rosita needed to move soon, so they could start clearing the land and getting it ready for building the food bank, and she was very close to signing a lease on an apartment she liked. I’d been thinking a lot about what Mom said. I hadn’t talked to Rosita about it yet, but I really did like the idea of the two of us living together. I was running out of time to say something, though.

I’d actually done a lot of reflecting recently. Part of it was Dad’s passing and Mom moving to Florida, but weirdly a big part of my self-reflection was about my run-in with Stilton, my old college teammate, at the airport. I’d spent the entire drive back thinking about what could have been if I’d stayed in the NFL and comparing it to my life in Buxton, and surprisingly, I found I liked my current life better than what I might have had. Sure, I didn’t have the money and fame I might have gotten if I’d stayed in the NFL, but I had stability that no one I played with back then had. And I had Rosita. The more I thought about her, the more I realized I couldn’t imagine a life without her.

That realization was on my mind when Rosita showed up after closing the restaurant for the day. I’d been working on the house since Tessa moved out and I moved in full time. The house itself was in really good condition, but it still felt like my parents’ house, and since I’d decided to stay, I wanted to make it my own. I’d started with little things like taking down decorations and rearranging the furniture which had morphed into pulling off wallpaper and repainting entire rooms.

Thankfully, Rosita had a better eye for this kind of thing than I did and had been making most of the decisions. It had only been a few weeks since Mom left, but the place was starting to look like a place I wanted to live in.

Tonight though, I didn’t pull out any of the supplies for working on the house. Instead, I’d gone to the grocery store and picked up things to make dinner for Rosita and me. I might not have been the best cook in the world but since she was always cooking for everyone else, I thought she might appreciate someone cooking for her for a change.

“Hey, I was …,” she said as she let herself in through the front door, and then paused halfway across the threshold. “What’s that smell?”

“Dinner,” I said, coming out of the kitchen to give her a kiss.

“You made dinner?”

“Yep. I thought I would treat you for once.”

“I’m impressed,” she said, putting her arms around my neck and giving me a kiss of her own.

“Just remember that after you’ve tasted it.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” she said, pulling her arms back down and grabbing my hand, pulling me towards the kitchen.

I tried to keep her from helping, but Rosita couldn’t help herself. It took her all of five minutes to fix the seasoning I’d messed up and turn my home-cooked dinner into something edible.

We chatted about the restaurant, about Mom, who’d called the night before with an update of how much she was loving Florida, and most of all, about the food bank, which was moving along quickly.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said as we finished up dinner.

“About what?”

“Things have been going really well. I’m enjoying working for Orville, the house is coming along great, and …”

“You’ve decided to stay?” she said, cutting me off.

“I have, but that’s not what I’ve been thinking about.”

“Okay,” she said wearily.

I know she’d been waiting for me to tell her I was staying, so we could both really commit to the relationship, so I understood her excitement. I didn’t mean to be dramatic and make it sound like there was a ‘but,’ but I was also about to make the biggest jump in my life, and I was nervous.

Terri hadn’t prepared me for this, since she’d been the one to take the lead in all of our relationship decisions, but now that it was up to me, I realized how terrifying this kind of thing was. And that was while being confident that I knew what Rosita’s answer would be. My stomach had tied itself in knots, so I couldn’t imagine how guys who didn’t know would feel in a moment like this.

“You’re getting real close to breaking ground on the food shelter and needing a place to live, and I’ve got this big house, and …”

“Are you asking me to move in?” she said, impatiently.

“I am. I love you and I can’t imagine living without you anymore,” I said, blurting out what I’d been rehearsing in my head.

It was the first time either of us had said the L-word, although I think we both knew we felt it. We’d just been waiting for me to get off my ass and make a decision.

“I love you too,” she said, not even missing a beat.

“So that’s a yes? You’ll move in with me?”

“Yes. It took you long enough. You know, you almost missed out. I was going to sign the lease on that place I was looking at tomorrow morning.”

“I know. Sorry I waited so long.”

“It’s fine. You’re a big chicken, so I’m giving you points for saying something at all.”

“Big chicken, am I?” I said, getting out of my chair.

She anticipated my move and got up, dashing out of the way as I made a grab for her. I chased her around the kitchen and into the living room before she let me catch her and we went down in a pile, my arms around her middle. She twisted around and we kissed for several minutes lying on the floor.

“Can we go by the house tonight and pick up some stuff? That way I don’t have to go back before opening the restaurant tomorrow.”

“Sure. How long do you have to get everything out before they’re going to tear it down?”

“Not long. I already have a bunch of stuff boxed up, so a lot of it can just be moved over now.”

She had the architect design everything before she even applied for the loan and had scheduled the contractors the same week she put in the application. If the loan hadn’t come through, she would have been out the money she’d had to put down on the contractor and what she paid the architect, but she’d been impatient and didn’t want to wait months after the loan was approved to start the process. Luckily, it had come through, so her impatience only looked like efficient planning.

We piled in my cruiser and headed towards her house, driving through town. We’d just turned onto Oak Street, passing the high school and her restaurant, when something caught my eye.

“What?” Rosita, who’d been looking out towards the high school said as I braked and swerved hard into the strip mall parking lot where Rosita had her restaurant.

I didn’t need to answer. It was impossible to miss Evan standing in front of the broken front window of her restaurant, gas can in hand, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

He dropped the gas can as soon as I pulled up. I slammed the vehicle to a stop and jumped out, hand going to my sidearm, when I froze. Evan had pulled a pistol and was pointing it directly at my face. Rosita started to come around the front of the SUV when she noticed the weapon and froze too.

“Perfect. Just fucking perfect,” Evan said. “I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried.”

“What are you doing, Evan?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m making sure this bitch gets what she deserves. You should have just listened when I told you to sell the land, you fucking wetback.”

“Dixon said they weren’t going to try and buy the property anymore,” I said.

I’d never trusted the company and doubted they’d ever consider keeping their word, but the threats from Stokes had seemed enough to force them to hold to their promise. This move didn’t make sense, since no one in that room doubted Stokes would make their lives hell. Especially now that it had escalated into one of their people pulling a weapon on a law-enforcement officer.

“Yeah, and you know what they did after that? They fucking fired me. I did exactly as I was told, and I got fucking fired for it. They said I’d become a liability, and they didn’t need me anymore.”

“Then why aren’t you up at the mine, taking it up with them?” I asked.

“Because it’s your fault. I know you and Orville went up there and threatened them. What did you do, tell them to get rid of me? Couldn’t handle me yourself, so you went behind my back and got me canned?”

“We didn’t. We just got them to promise to stop trying to get Rosita to sell her land.”

He was about to say something else when a truck that had been driving up Oak Street screeched to a halt. Evan stepped slightly sideways to keep the gun on me and try and see what was happening. After a pause Mr. Green, the owner of the hardware store, came out of his truck, pulling a shotgun off the rack in the back window.

Evan started to turn to point the weapon at him, giving me a second to grab my sidearm and bring it up. Unfortunately, Evan hadn’t turned all the way, and stopped with his weapon pointed at Rosita as Mr. Greer came from the other side, his shotgun at his shoulder.

“Wait!” I yelled, worried that if either of us shot Evan, he’d reflexively pull the trigger and maybe hit Rosita. “Evan, think this through. You lost your job. Is that worth getting killed over?”

“It’s all her fault,” he said again, a tear going down his cheek.

He was angry, scared and cornered. A combination that never ended well.

“This doesn’t have to go this way,” I said, trying to deescalate the situation. “You don’t want to be dead and you don’t want to spend the next twenty years in jail for attempted murder. You’re only making this situation worse. Put the gun away and let’s talk about this.”

“You’ll just shoot me. I know you. Weren’t you the guy who always said he had to get even? If I’m going down, I’m taking this bitch with me.”

That had been something I said when I was a stupid kid in high school, always worried about my reputation. I grew up and realized how dumb that was and how little a reputation like that mattered, but Evan never had. And like all guys like that, he couldn’t imagine anyone else thinking differently.

“I’m putting my gun away. You know Mr. Greer. He doesn’t have it out for you, but if you fire that weapon, he’s going to cut you in half. Be smart about this. You don’t want to die.”

I looked past Evan to Mr. Greer, who gave me a slight nod to indicate he had it.

Putting my weapon back in its holster, I said, “Put the gun down, Evan.”

Evan, still pointing the weapon at Rosita, looked over at me and then at Mr. Greer.

“Damn it,” he said, and then dropped the gun.

Mr. Greer let the barrel of his shotgun drop and I took a step towards Evan, reaching back for my handcuffs, when Evan surprised both of us by reaching up to his mouth, taking the cigarette, and flicking it towards the broken window. I froze in place watching it arc through the air, the glowing red tip tumbling end over end, before bouncing off the window sill and into the dining area.

The gas caught immediately. Mr. Greer had moved as soon as Evan had reached for the cigarette, but he was in his mid-sixties and didn’t have the reflexes to stop him. He did drop Evan with the butt of his weapon, causing my one-time friend to drop to the ground in a heap.

Seeing that Evan was down and Rosita had already grabbed the gun off the ground, just in case, I rushed to the back of my cruiser, grabbing the fire extinguisher from the trunk.

Rushing up to the window, the fire had already started to spread. Catching onto furniture and up the drywall. I sprayed an area near the window, putting the fire on at least that set of drywall out. Unfortunately, the small fire extinguisher wasn’t going to be able to combat the whole blaze.

My extinguisher had just run empty when Rosita dashed past me, through the window and into the restaurant. I made a grab for her, but missed as she slid over the counter towards the back of the store.

Thankfully, the floor was all tile and once the gas on it burned away, it didn’t stay on fire, so the only thing burning at that moment was curtains, tables and drywall, mostly around the area where the gas had splashed. I’d managed to put out one area, but it was starting to spread and would cover most of the dining room in a few minutes if we didn’t do anything to stop it.

Rosita came back with her own fire extinguisher, putting out most of the flames close to the kitchen, before it also went dry and she ran back towards the back of the store.

“Rosita, get the hell out of there,” I yelled.

There was a back door, so she wasn’t trapped, but I knew she was stubborn and wasn’t going to come out on her own. The fire had re-caught by the window, which meant I couldn’t go in that way, and smoke was starting to billow up.

I ran around the back of the strip mall to the metal rear door by the dumpster and started fumbling for keys. She’ d given me keys to the store a week before so I could go get something, and had never asked for them back. I finally found the one I was looking for and got the door open. A rolling wave of smoke came through the door as I opened it and duck walked in, trying to stay below the smoke. Rosita was halfway in the kitchen, the hose she used for washing down the floor in her hands, spraying a pitiful stream of water into the fire, which was still only in the front dining room, but picking up pace.

“No,” she screamed as I grabbed her and started pulling her away.

“This isn’t worth your life,” I said, putting my arms around her and lifting her off the floor, carrying her out the back door while she struggled against me.

Once outside, she fell apart in my arms, weeping. I stood there holding her while she cried, watching the smoke pour out of the door, until I heard sirens.

“Come on,” I said, letting go and grabbing her hand, pulling her after me.

Around front, Al’s cruiser was in the parking lot, as was the single fire engine the town had. Evan was in handcuffs and Mr. Greer was on his cell phone, shotgun still in hand.

The fire engine had just pulled up and the three guys on it were pulling a hose out as we came around. They’d made amazing time, all things considered. I didn’t know if the fire had reached the kitchen yet, but if it hadn’t, they might be able to put it out before any of the expensive equipment got damaged.

I made sure Rosita was okay and wasn’t going to do anything foolish before going over to Al, who was pulling a now conscious Evan off the ground.

“They said he did this,” Al said, nodding towards Mr. Greer and two other men who’d joined him.

“He did. He broke the window and was pouring gas into the dining room when we drove up. He then pulled a gun on Rosita and me and would have probably shot us if Mr. Greer hadn’t come along.”

“I see. It looks like they’ve got the fire under control, so I’ll take him down and get him booked. Will you and Rosita be able to write up a statement later?”

“Yeah. She’ll need a little time, though.”

“No problem,” he said, looking back at the fire, which was almost out. “Good luck.”

Once they got the hose hooked up, they made short work of the fire. We had to stand aside and wait an additional ten more minutes while they went through to made sure the fire was out and determined that the roof wasn’t going to cave in, before they let Rosita and I go inside to inspect the damage.

Mostly, the fire had destroyed the drywall, ceiling tiles, decorations, and furniture. The place was soaking wet from the firehose and the front was a wreck, but the kitchen seemed to be nearly untouched. The ceiling was darkened by the smoke and there was a layer of soot on everything, but the equipment was okay.

Despite that good news, Rosita was inconsolable. She’d poured so much into this place, seeing it like this was just devastating. She was standing in the middle of the wrecked dining area, her face in her hands, sobbing.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” I said, going to her and putting my arm around her. “The damage isn’t that bad.”

“It’ll take weeks to get this fixed, and I have every dollar set aside for the food bank and buying extra food. I can’t afford this now.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, wrapping her up in my arms.

She buried her face in my chest and broke down. We stood there for a long time. I could hear people outside, moving around the exterior and talking, but no one else came inside. I think they could see how devastated Rosita was and wanted to give her space.

We stayed that way for a long time until Sarah surprised both of us, saying, “Hey.”

I’d had my hand against the top of Rosita’s head, whispering all the supportive words I could think of, and hadn’t seen her walk up. Rosita had finally stopped crying, and we both looked up to watch Sarah make her way over the charred pieces of furniture.

“I thought you and Orville had already gone home.”

“Al called and told us what happened. Orville went to help deal with Evan, so I came here to see what I could do to help.”

“There isn’t much anyone can do. We just have to rebuild the place. It’ll take a few weeks, but I’m confident we can get someone out to rebuild it.”

The last part was for Rosita, who started to cry again at the thought.

“Why don’t you two come outside for a minute,” she said, putting her hand on Rosita’s shoulder. “I think there’s something you should see.”

Sarah turned and made her way out, leaving us to follow her. I’d expected to see a few onlookers, plus the fire department guys, so I wasn’t prepared for the fifty or so people gathered in the parking lot. I could see more coming across from the high school, where people were parking and walking across.

They weren’t just standing around, gawking at the scene, either. Some were, but many were gathered into groups of four or five here or there, intently discussing something. Occasionally, one of those groups would walk across to the largest group, which was gathered around Mr. Greer and Bill Goodwin, a local contractor who Mom and Rosita had gotten to rebuild Mr. Cooper’s barbershop and who Rosita had hired to build the food bank.

“What’s going on?” I asked Sarah as we caught up to her.

“Al called around before he left with Evan, letting people know what happened. They started showing up almost immediately. You should go check in with them.”

That wasn’t really an answer to my question, but pulling a still shell-shocked Rosita with me, I went over to the group.

“There you two are,” Bill said. “So, I’ve been talking to Chester here, and the job’s not going to be as bad as we first thought. We’re going to have to give it a solid once over, of course, but just from what we could see from the outside, all the damage is in the front dining area. The good news is, the building itself is solid brick and cinder block and the fire didn’t last long enough or get hot enough to damage either one. We haven’t been on the roof yet, but from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look to have suffered much damage either. If that’s the case, a little drywall and some painting, and some new furniture of course, and we should have this place fixed up in a week, maybe two at the max.”

“What?” Rosita asked.

He’d jumped into his breakdown of the situation without really explaining what he was talking about in the first place, leaving both of us a little bewildered.

“It’s just a rough estimate, but yeah,” Bill said. “I think we can have your restaurant back open by the end of next week max. Assuming the kitchen is okay, but from what I could see by the back door, it looks to be, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You’re going to fix my restaurant?”

“Sure,” Bill said. “My boys are going to be working out here for a good two months getting your other building up, and if you think they’re going to do that without being able to come here for lunch, you’d be crazy. Besides, Mr. Greer here’s putting up the supplies and I’ve agreed to skip any profit on the job, so all we have to do is pay the boys, and Sarah over there has already got a fair number of donations, so it’s a no brainer.”

Bill was smiling and clearly was trying to be funny, but I was with Rosita. I got the gist of what was going on, but it didn’t make much sense.

“I’m lost,” Rosita said.

“He’s saying we’re going to get your restaurant fixed for you,” Sarah said, rejoining us. “You shouldn’t be surprised. After what you did, helping to get Mr. Cooper’s barbershop rebuilt, feeding all the families around here who needed help after the food bank closed, and spending so much to build a new food bank, do you really think anyone in Buxton would let something like this go unanswered. Now, I know tonight’s been a shock, so why don’t you two go home and we’ll talk tomorrow. By then, we’ll have a better idea when you’ll be able to reopen.”

Sarah ushered the rest of the group away, giving orders like she was some kind of general. It really did show what a good match she was with Orville, the way she took charge of the situation and made sure everything that needed to be done was getting done.

“They’re going to fix everything for free?”

“You heard Sarah,” I said, putting my arm around her. “People have noticed how much you’ve done for the community. They aren’t going to let someone like Evan push you out.”

“I’m just … shocked.”

“I know. But it’s going to be all right. Everything is going to be all right from now on,” I said, and surprisingly, I meant it.

Rosita pressed into my side and I could feel the tension leaving her body. Looking at the people still coming in to see what they could do to help, I couldn’t believe I’d ever considered moving somewhere else.

Looking down at her, I finally realized I had everything I’d been looking for. A place I really belonged. A job doing something that really mattered. And a person I couldn’t imagine living without.

I’d finally found my way home.

THE END