Chapter 5

Danny

Sweat drips from my forehead and along my forearms as I chug the Gatorade that's been placed in my hand. One day, dad won't need the help in the family landscaping business, I remind myself. One day, I'll miss it.

That day can't come soon enough. Although I worry about dad and my brothers doing it on their own. I always have, probably because of how I've grown up. I'm the youngest child of an immigrant father and the hometown girl he fell in love with. Although my mother's family is well-known in Bradford Station, they've never claimed me, and they turned their backs on her as soon as she married Juan Ramirez. As much as my dad tries, he's still got an accent and, for some people in this backwards town, that means something.

"Do me a favor?" He asks.

I run a bandana around the back of my neck, squinting up at the sun. "Yeah?"

"At lunch, can you go make the loan payment for me? I have to run to city hall. They want a quote on doing the new walking paths."

Last year we bought some new equipment, including things that are weather adjustable, so we can do snow removal when it's required. It was a leap of faith and the first loan dad had taken out in over twenty years of being in business. It was smart though. The ice storm we had in January managed to put a big dent in what we owe. "Sure. Want me to pay it from the business account or have you been hoarding cash?" I grin.

"One day, you're going to learn that not everything can be done electronically." He starts in on the speech he gives every time I give him shit about not putting all his money in the bank. "What if they go down? What if there's a glitch and we lose everything? You have to think ahead, Danny."

"Got it, bury my money in the backyard in case there's an apocalypse."

"You laugh." He shakes his finger. "One day you'll wish you'd listened."

"Love you, dad. I'll take care of it for you."

"Thank you. I deposited the money last week. You can pay it out of the business account. Write the check for three thousand and get my balance, please."

"I know how you like your paperwork. No need to worry about me."

"You're a good son."

"Because I'm the only one working with you today."

My two brothers work full-time with him. I do two days a week. That way, I'm able to still have two full days off and they also get their time off. Sundays with the family are an always thing, but there are days when I can't make it because of firefighting. It's tiring, especially when I'm busy with both jobs, but it's worth it to help my family succeed.

"You're the youngest. I'll always have a soft spot for you." He runs his hand over my hair.

I'm six and ten years younger than my two brothers. Word has it they thought they were done before I came along. Not only as a surprise but, I like to say, a bright spot in an otherwise boring family. "Yeah, yeah. You don't have to flatter me. I already said I'd run by the bank for you."

He laughs before pushing on my head. "Go ahead and get outta here."

At least volunteering to go means I get a little bit of an extra lunch. Jogging over to my Jeep, I hop in, rolling the windows down and cranking up the music. Even though it's a hot one, the sun is shining and there's a bit of a breeze. These days are special. Here in the mountains, it's a crapshoot. We can still wake up to snow one day, or it might stay like this until fall. We never know, so appreciating it is what I decide to do.

Traffic is light on this Monday and, since I'm in no hurry, I drive along with the flow. Turning into the bank parking lot, I'm thankful to see it isn't packed. My stomach growls as I realize I haven't eaten since shift last night.

Getting out, I knock some of the dirt loose from my boots, run a hand over my clothes to knock out some of the dust, and then head for the door. A woman is behind me. Like the gentleman I've been taught to be, I hold it open for her. She smiles and I nod.

Walking in behind her, I wait my turn. I haven't been in this building in a while and it looks as if they've remodeled. There are a few things I would've done differently as far as fire safety goes, but the aesthetic is nice.

My gaze works around, smiling and nodding to all the people I recognize. It's then my eyes land on someone I met recently. Very recently. Like within the last twenty-four hours. She's standing behind the counter, paying very close attention to what's going on in front of her. If I'm not mistaken, it looks as if she's training.

I take a moment to observe her like I hadn't been able to last night. Her blonde hair hangs in front of her face, obscuring most of it from me. What I can see is her mouth. Full, pink lips move as she speaks, before curving into a smile. They finish with the customer in front of me.

"Hey Danny," the teller says as she sees me. It's Janie, and she's worked here probably since before I was born.

"Hey." I give her a little wave. Dorkiest thing I've ever done.

"His is easy," she tells blondie beside her. "You do this one and I'll watch."

I'm face to face with her, much like I was last night, only this time closer, if that's possible. She looks different, obviously because she hasn't been fighting a tight lug nut for the better part of an hour. This version of her is put together, not nearly as flustered as she was on the side of the road. I think I like her somewhere in between.

Her hair and makeup are too perfect right now; I want to mess them up a little.

"Hi," she greets me, her voice pitched higher than it was on the side of the road. My eyes slip down to her name tag. So this is Hayden. The youngest of the Chief's daughters. "Do you have your account number?"

"No." I pull the checkbook out of my back pocket, regretting it almost as quickly. This thing has been through hell and back. It stays in the truck most of the time and manages to catch whatever dirt we have hanging around. Little pieces of rock slide out from the plastic case. "SoÉsorÉsorry." I stumble over my words trying to push the debris off into the floor as inconspicuously as possible.

"You're good." She does her best not to laugh, but I catch the twitch at the side of her lips. "What's the name on the account?"

"Ramirez Lawn Care."

There are hushed voices as the older teller shows her what to do to look us up. Since there's not another company with the same name, you don't have to verify anything with him.

Not many people in this small town have the same last name as me. Used to bother me, but at least I don't have to worry about someone trying to steal my identity or anything.

And there's only one loan, so we're good with that.

"How much do you want to pay?"

"Three thousand, and can I get the balance on it too?" I grab the pen laying on the counter and start writing out the check.

"Do you want a printout or written down?" Her voice is lower this time. I notice the other teller has gone over to where the window is, seeming to help out with a problem.

Clearing my throat, I inhale deeply. That tone she's using isn't meant for public consumption. That's for late nights, bedrooms, and tangled limbs. "Printed out, please."

"No problem."

Handing over the check, I purposely make sure our fingers touch. The spark between us is unfuckingdeniable. If it were a dark night, we'd be lighting up the place. There's a flare of recognition in her eyes, her mouth making a surprised oh and letting me know what she might look like in the throes of ecstasy. She seems to fumble with putting the amount in, but manages to do it before endorsing the piece of paper.

"Danny, huh?"

"You knew that. It says it on my jacket, which you still have. Didn't realize you work at the bank though."

She shrugs. "I don't make it a point of telling my life story to people who stop to help me on the side of the road. Seems like the beginning of a horror movie, don't you think?"

"Or a porno."

We both snicker as she prints out what I assume is the balance on the loan. My eyes track her hands as she reaches over, grabs a pen and writes something on it before handing it to me. "Have a good day, Danny."

"You too, Hayden."

"Maybe I'll see ya around?"

"Maybe."

I'm not a guy to make any promises, especially when I'm not through my probationary period with the fire department yet. It takes a ton of my time, but I'm always willing to have fun.

As I leave the bank, getting into my Jeep, I glance down at the paper.

There's a phone number written on it.

If you're not too scared of my dad, give me a call or text.