Page 13 of The Fire

“You’re sweet,” I repeated. “Really. But have you ever felt like someone was trying to deliver a message you refused to hear?” I laughed, just a little. “Pretty sure that’s what’s happening here.”

“A message? What kind of message?” Dana frowned like she was back to wondering about my sanity.

Maybe I didn’t blame her.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t belong in O’Leary anymore.” I rubbed a hand over my chest to ease the ache that came with those words. “Time to move on.”

“Aw, Parks, that’s not true at all!”

I shrugged, suddenly exhausted in a way that wasn’t just physical or mental but soul-deep. “It’s fine. Moving back wasn’t how I imagined it would be anyway.”

Dana sat on the opposite corner of the bed, pulling one leg up so she could face me. “Yeah? What did you imagine it’d be like?”

Satisfying.

The click of puzzle pieces connecting.

A whisper of “ahhhh,that’s what’s been missing,” across my soul.

A bone-deep knowledge that I was where I belonged.

“Well, the bar not burning down, for a start.” I attempted a smile, and Dana patted my knee. “No, I mean… You know, my dad always said a man isn’t finished when he’s defeated, he’s finished when he quits.”

“Oh, I remember,” Dana said dryly. “Not a lot of folks around here ever quoted Richard Nixon at me.”

I laughed. “But maybe leaving’s not quitting. Maybe it’s just realizing that I’ve been going after the wrong things the wrong way.” I took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out. “All these years, I’ve thought there was an O’Leary shaped hole in my heart, and I couldn’t be happy until I came back here. But it turns out, there’s no Parker-shaped hole in O’Leary.”

Dana shook her head. “Honey, you’re looking at this wrong. You fit here. This is your home, and—”

“Dana,” I interrupted. “Home’s where you make it. And it’s not here. Not for me.”

“So, then… you’re headed south?”

“Guess so. For now anyway,” I said, making a decision on the spot. “I’ll leave in a couple days.”

I fingered the hem of my flannel shirt. I wondered how my all-winter wardrobe would look on the back nine or better yet, in the hot tub.

“Aw, Parks—”

“Oh, Ricky! Tie me to the headboard! Use your necktie just like last night!”

Dana’s eyes widened, and her hand fluttered to her chest. “Good gracious.”

I summoned a smile. “Oh, just wait. They haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

“I should maybe run and have a word.” She bit her lip like she’d rather do just about anything but interrupt them, and I didn’t blame her, but I was tired. All kinds of tired.

“Maybe that’d be good,” I agreed.

“Remember the offer of the sofa is open indefinitely, okay?” she said, standing and moving toward the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. “And Parker, remember that everything works out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

Was there a worse expression in all of existence? I doubted it.

But I grinned and gave her a salute anyway, and her answering smile flared bright and true as she let herself out.

I snorted and let myself collapse back on the bed.

My whole life I’d had an idea in my head about how I’d react in the face of real adversity. Katniss Everdeen, volunteering as tribute. Batman, owning the night and meting out justice. The brave soldier, picking up the banner when the rest of his company had been shot down. A man ofaction,goddamn it, just as Lance Hoffstraeder had raised me to be.