The next two days had been filled with work and podcasting. Dannel had convinced Osian to continue with his regular schedule. It served no purpose to take a break.
Each day Dannel found it increasingly difficult to drag himself down to the station. Firefighting had lost any spark for him. He wanted a change.
Needed a change.
He simply couldn’t figure out how to make the change.
“You should talk with the Oz-man.” Evie plopped down on the bench beside him. She’d already showered and changed into her street clothes. “You know he’ll support whatever you want to do.”
“Evie.” He hushed her, glancing around the room anxiously. “And I’m the one everyone is telling to use their inside voice?”
“You don’t modulate your volume—and you asked me to remind you,” she reminded him. “Besides, everyone else is still cleaning out the engine. What are you afraid of?”
“Not having a job? Being homeless? Starving?”
Evie tossed the towel in her hand toward the large basket in the corner of the room. “First, you don’t have to pay rent. Your uncle isn’t likely to kick you out on your arse. Second, the podcast is starting to bring in ad revenue. Third, you have friends and family who will do anything to help you. Also, maybe don’t immediately jump to the worst-case scenario?”
“Podcasting isn’t my dream job.”
Evie twisted around to lie on her back on the bench. “What is your dream job?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, maybe you should figure out what you want to do with your life? It might be good to know before you have an existential crisis about starving to death.” Evie flailed when he shoved her off the bench. “Oi.”
Dannel ignored her and continued lacing up his trainers. “Never quit a job before you know what you’re doing next.”
“Not sure it’s pithy enough for a fortune cookie but not bad.” Evie hopped up to her feet. She dusted off her trousers. “Whose turn is it to mop up in here?”
“Yours?” Dannel pointed to the board on the wall, which tracked the cleaning schedule. “Pretty sure you were supposed to do it yesterday.”
“Damn it.”
“Have fun.” Dannel got up, shut his locker, and started toward the door. He laughed when Evie grabbed the back of his shirt. “Want help?”
“I’ll buy you a milkshake.”
“Ortea.” Their chief officer called to him from the doorway. “You’ve got a visitor.”
“Not again.” Dannel handed the mop back to Evie. “Guess I’m not helping.”
“Typical,” Evie muttered.
Dodging out of the way of the mop handle, Dannel grew anxious following Chief Officer Wilson. He had the distinct fear it would be the police again. Would Wayne be up this late in the evening?
They were going to wind up giving him hazard pay at this point. Or maybe Roland would take him out on a date. Wayne might prefer it to a monetary bonus.
Dannel found himself wishing it was the detectives when he found his dad waiting for him. “Myron.”
“Son.”
Chief Wilson rested a hand on Dannel’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone, shall I?”
Dannel shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at his dad’s chin. “To what do I owe the pleasure of two visits in a month?”
“Your mother informed me I had no one to blame but myself for the distance in our relationship.” Myron sounded uneasy, though Dannel didn’t really know for sure. “How do we bridge this gap?”
“Did you get some terminal illness?”
Myron stared at him for several seconds before finally laughing. “I didn’t need a brush with death to reconsider my life choices.”
“You sure?” Dannel shifted on his feet. He stepped back, trying to put some distance between the conversation and himself. “Ossie and I, we’re a package deal. You don’t like him.”
“I don’t.”
Dannel hated dealing with intense conversations with anyone, especially family. “How do you imagine our up-and-down relationship changing if you can’t be in the same room with Osian without belittling him?”
“He gives as good as he gets.”
His dad did have a point. Osian had a habit of picking fights with him. Dannel had refused to get involved. Mostly because Osian was generally right. Myron had a poor track record, after all. They’d tried so many times to meet in the middle and rebuild their relationship. Why bother?
“Why don’t we head to your place? We can talk on the way. I’ll do my best not to rise to Osian’s prodding.” Myron took a step toward him. “What’s the harm in trying?”
Dannel could honestly think of a number of reasons to say no. His young heart had been shattered when his dad walked out on them. He’d come back, but the damage was done. “Why do you always want to do this after a long day of work?”
“You ignore my calls on your days off. And you never answer the door when someone knocks.”
“Right.” Dannel had no retort to either of those points. He did ignore people who called or showed up at the flat, particularly if Osian wasn’t home. “Okay. Fine.”
The walk home started out awkwardly. Dannel was tired and had nothing to say. His dad seemed hesitant to open the conversation, for someone who’d wanted to chat.
“Why did you leave?” Dannel paused at a light and found himself unable to keep the question inside.
“Son.” Myron shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Did you have to go for the gut immediately?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.” Dannel repeatedly punched the button to change the light. “You say you want to talk. Well? Why’d you run off?”
Myron was silent until the light changed and they’d begun to walk again. “I was young. Incredibly immature. I had a million dreams for my future. And I thought I had all the time in the world to come back and pick up my family where I’d left them. I wasn’t ready to be a parent.”
“And Mum was?”
He shook his head sadly. “No, she wasn’t. I’m honestly amazed she ever let me talk with you or Roland ever again.”
“So am I.”
His brother had been thrilled to reconnect with their dad as a teenager. Dannel had required a lot more convincing. Even now, he kept Myron at arm’s length.
Dannel stayed quiet all the way to his street. He paused at the sight of the figure hanging out by their flat. “What’s he doing here?”
“Who?”
Dannel ignored his dad. He picked up his pace, trying to catch Ethan by surprise. “Are you waiting for someone?”
He bolted.
Dannel watched, completely bewildered, as Ethan raced out of sight. “What the—”
“Friend of yours?”
“Used to be.” Dannel didn’t know what to think of Ethan anymore.
His dad, after their conversation, had decided not to push the subject. They made a tentative date to have lunch later in the week. Dannel watched him leave, then jogged up the stairs.
He found Osian standing by the window with binoculars. “What are you doing?”
“Spying on Ethan spying on me.” Osian caught him by the wrist to drag him over. He looped his arm around Dannel’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “What do you think he wanted?”
“We’ll have to ask him.”