Hometown Fireman. Lissa Manley

tantalized him. His stomach rumbled, and he found himself wishing he’d planned on staying for dinner.

      Before he left, though, he was sure his mom was going to want to get details of what had happened at Ally’s house. He hadn’t gone into the particulars when he’d called her from the truck out of consideration for Ally, who’d been sitting right next to him.

      Who could blame his mom, really, for her inevitable curiosity? It wasn’t every day a fire victim showed up as an impromptu houseguest with two dogs in tow.

      Drew gazed out the big picture window over the sink that looked into the large backyard and patio he and Dad had built a few years ago. Given it was April, the sun had set, so Drew stared at nothing but the silhouettes of trees against a star-studded sky for a while, thinking about the air of sadness he’d sensed in Ally. Or was it aloofness? Shyness? Hard to tell.

      Just about the time he came back to the kitchen after rustling around in the garage freezer for some cookies his mom had “hidden” there, Mom returned.

      “My, that girl’s been through a lot,” she said, shaking her head. “I think she was asleep before the door closed.”

      He nibbled on the edge of a frozen chocolate chip cookie. “Yeah, the whole thing is just sad.”

      Mom went to the cupboard and pulled out plates and set them on the tile counter. “What happened?”

      “Ally told me Rex started barking, and she found the kitchen on fire. Ran out and called 911. I got the call on my pager when I was still quite a ways out of town. By the time I was driving by, the fire had already done its damage, so the chief had me check on Ally. She looked pretty stressed out.”

      “Of course.” Mom pulled place mats from a drawer. “I take it she’s new in town?” Mom was acquainted with just about everyone in Moonlight Cove, having lived here since she and Dad were married and they moved to town so Dad could start Sellers Real Estate.

      “Yep. She moved here a few weeks ago and was living in Old Man Whitley’s house out on Flying Fish Lane.”

      Mom frowned as she got utensils out of the silverware drawer. “Sounds as if she doesn’t have a lot of resources.”

      “Yes, she told me she’s on a tight budget.”

      “I’ll have to remember to include her in my prayers.”

      Funny how that thought hadn’t occurred to Drew, even though he’d been raised to pray for those facing difficult times.

      Guess he’d lost sight of the power of faith and prayer recently, especially since his good friends Jake and Beth been left homeless in the wake of their house foreclosure, forcing them to sell all their belongings and move to Portland to live with Beth’s sister. Drew had sold that house to them and had felt so powerless when the lender had foreclosed. What kind of merciful God took so much away from such good, hardworking Christians?

      Mom went over to the oak kitchen table with the place mats. “She sure seems to love those dogs.”

      “Yeah, she told me she just started a rescue operation.”

      Mom paused. “Oh, wow. And now she has no place to house the dogs she’s rescued. I’m sure she feels doubly responsible for them since they’ve already been through so much.”

      “I’m guessing you’re right.” Ally seemed like the kind of person who took her responsibilities very seriously.

      “So, how did your interview go?” Mom asked as she headed back to the counter to get the plates and silverware.

      “Great, I think. Since I’ve already passed the physical, it’s just a waiting game to see if I get accepted to the academy.” There would be another opening at the academy next year, but with the tension between him and Dad ratcheting up, now seemed like the time for Drew to make the break from Sellers Real Estate; getting hired and accepted in Atherton as soon as possible had become a priority.

      “Looks like you’re going to be moving soon, then, just as you’ve always wanted.” She smiled genuinely as she dug a large spoon from the ceramic holder next to the stove. “Good for you, dear.”

      “I really appreciate your supporting me on this.” Drew reflexively clenched his hands. “Dad’s still completely against it, but what else is new?”

      “Well, your dad is having a difficult time with everything right now.” She opened the slow cooker and stirred the contents.

      “Is that why he moved into the garage apartment?”

      Very deliberately, it seemed, she put the lid back on the slow cooker and set the spoon in a spoon rest nearby. Then she turned, her jaw firm, chin raised slightly. “What’s going on between me and your father is not up for discussion.”

      This was her party line, so her statement didn’t surprise Drew.

      “It’s just that Dad—”

      “No, Drew, stop right there.” His mom held up a rigid hand. “Whatever problems you have with your dad started long before our current...issues, and I’m sorry for that, really I am. But I simply won’t put myself in the middle of what’s going on with you two.”

      Drew tightened his jaw until it hurt, then looked up at the ceiling. So be it; this discussion always ended the same way, and his mom was too stubborn to be convinced to open up about what was going on with her and Dad.

      “I’ve got to get dinner on the table,” she declared, effectively shutting down the discussion. Boy, she was good at that. She started puttering around the kitchen, as if the subject had never been mentioned. Drew fought the urge to push. She’d talk when she wanted to and not a second before. Maybe never, if what had been going on lately was any indication.

      Great.

      Bothered by their conversation, and his parents’ odd behavior in general, he decided to make his escape. He headed over to the far counter to grab his car keys, noting on the way by that Mom had, significantly, set three places at the table. One for herself. No place for Dad, seeing as he and Mom weren’t speaking and Dad had been subsisting on whatever he could heat in the microwave in the garage apartment. One place for Ally, of course. And one for...

      He snatched up his keys. “Mom, I’m not staying for dinner.”

      She turned and looked at him. “Why ever not? You haven’t eaten yet, right?”

      “No, but I’ve had a long day, and I’d like to get home. I still have some paperwork to do for the meeting with the Sullivans about their offer on the Mayberry house, and I’d rather not be burning the midnight oil tonight.”

      Dropping her chin, Mom gave him a look that mothers had perfected aeons ago, the one that made him feel about an inch tall.

      “What?” he said, even though he knew where this conversation was going. As in not his way.

      “Can’t you just stay for a bit?” She pointed in the general direction of the guest room. “That poor girl has suffered a huge loss today, and I think she needs all the support she can get.” She tsked. “I can’t believe you’d even think about leaving right away, given that we’ve been through the same kind of thing.” Then she muttered under her breath, saying something that sounded like...I raised you better than that.

      He cringed inwardly. Yep, there was the guilt trip she was so good at doling out. Trouble was, it was working, and, as usual, Mom was right. What was an hour of his time in the scheme of things, anyway?

      Besides, he was starving, and her slow-cooker concoction sounded a whole lot better than the frozen something-or-other he’d throw in the microwave when he got home to his apartment on the other side of town.

      He sighed. “Fine, I’ll stay.”

      “I knew you’d see reason,” she said, patting his arm. “We’ll let her sleep for a little while and then eat.”

      “Is Dad coming