Page 81 of Stuck With the Smokejumper

“Sleep okay?” I ask.

“Better than I have in weeks.”

There's something different about this morning. We were already together, already public about it, the whole crew fully aware. Nothing external has changed. But everything feels slightly realigned anyway, like a photograph that's been the same picture the whole time but suddenly comes into better focus.

He steals a sip from my coffee mug without asking. I watch him do it, completely mundane, nothing romantic about stealing coffee. But it’s different because I know he loves me.

Mabel appears not long after, and wraps herself around Beck’s legs.

“You have to share,” I tell her.

Mabel offers no indication my request has moved her in the slightest.

We spend the morning doing nothing planned. Coffee. Breakfast eventually, something simple. I bring my thesis notes out to the porch and work through a section while Beck sits nearby cleaning gear. Neither of us needs to fill the silence with anything. It's enough just to be in the same space, occupied with our own things, occasionally saying something to the other and getting a response.

The rest of the crew drifts through their own Sunday rhythms around us. Tessa disappears with a book. Dani does laundry. Cassidy and Trevor take off somewhere together, not that either of them will call it a date. Nolan wanders past at one point still carrying the Bigfoot caller, which has become a permanent accessory.

“Anything new to report?” Beck asks him, deadpan.

“No confirmed sightings,” Nolan says. “But I'm building a case.”

“I genuinely don't want to know what qualifies as unconfirmed.”

By late morning, Beck and Reid start packing, since they've got a long drive ahead and need to be on the road not too long after lunch. I watch Beck load his bag into the truck and feel a small pull of sadness, but it's nothing like watching him leave with words caught in my throat. There's nothing left unsaid this time. This time, I told him everything that matters.

The Grangers have moved Sunday dinner to lunch, so Beck and Reid can be there before they need to leave. Nobody treats it like a sacrifice. It's simply what the Grangers do. If people they love need to leave early, the schedule bends, no discussion required.

Annie's made enough food to feed twice our number, which surprises no one. She's already assembling several containers, clearly destined for the truck.

The gathering is loud and warm the way it always is here. There's something especially good about it today, everyone gathered around this table after everything Timber Creek almost lost. Beck and Reid are here, even if only for a few hours.

I watch Beck across the table, easy with everyone, passing the rolls without being asked, teasing Russ about something, knowing where Annie keeps the extra napkins. He doesn't look like a man temporarily reassigned here anymore. He looks like someone who belongs. I like watching that without turning it into a promise about anything.

At some point I notice him and Russ talking quietly near the door, low voices, nothing I catch. I don't think much of it. Firefighters talk shop; that's just how it goes.

Annie asks about my thesis somewhere between the main course and dessert.

“Do you have a date yet?”

“October ninth.”

“We'll be there,” she says, glancing at Russ, who nods without hesitation.

“You don't have to—”

“We've heard about this research for two summers,” Annie says. “We're not missing the ending.”

Reid wants to come too, obviously, though he hedges it with the appropriate caution. “Assuming the state stops burning by October.”

Beck asks a few practical questions, where it's held, what time, how the whole defense process works. I can tell he's filing the information away even though neither of us knows what his schedule will look like then.

“I'm going to try to be there,” he says.

“I know.” If he can make it, he will. If he can't, it won't be because he doesn't want to be there.

We don't dwell on the rest of it, what comes after Blackpine's season ends, the thesis revisions and job applications waiting for me in the fall, all the unresolved geography still hanging over both our futures. We talked about that last night. Today doesn't need to revisit it.

Lunch winds down eventually, everyone helping clear the table. Annie loads Beck and Reid down with enough food that Reid predicts, with real confidence, they'll still be eating it Tuesday.