Oh, yes. He was back.
He made his way to an empty desk and took a seat before turning on the old desk-top computer. They were ancient by any standards. Knowing he had a few minutes for it to get started, he decided to grab a cup ofthe station’s awful coffee.
“Hey you!” Lydia hollered as he took a cup from the table.
“Hi,” he said. “How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you doing?” she asked, eyeing him carefully.
“Honestly, better than I thought I would be. The arm hurts, of course, but everywhere else I’m healing pretty quickly. Can’t wait to get the cast off and get back to duty.”
“Yeah. That sucks. When I had desk duty, it killed me sitting in here.”
“Hey, Charming!”
Chad turned and saw his sergeant heading his way.
“Sir,” he said.
“Got a delivery for you.”
Chad looked at the box in the sergeant’s arms and furrowed his brow. What the hell was it? He hadn’t ordered anything that he could remember.
“Thanks,” he said as his boss handed it over. Scents of chocolate and vanilla caught his attention, and he glanced at the top of the box. Apple Grove Bakery. Yum! He couldn’t open it standing there with one good hand, so he set it on the table. That’s when he noticed the little card sticking out of the side.
“Want me to open the box?” Lydia asked.
Chad nodded as he grabbed the card with his good hand and flipped it open.
Have a great first day back. I’ll be thinking of you.
See you tonight.
—Jeff
He felt a flush spread across his face at the sweet words. Lydia opened the box to reveal about two dozencookies. Looked like chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, sugar cookies, and even a few brownies.
“Jack pot!” she exclaimed, rubbing her hands together. “Who are they from?”
“Jeff Garner.”
“The drama teacher?”
God, everybody knew everybody here. It was hard to get used to. He rolled his eyes at her. “Yes.”
“Wasn’t he the one on the horse? The guy I met at the hospital?”
“He’s been…helping me around the house.”
Lydia grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “Helping. Is that what they call it now?”
Chad glared at her. “Seriously. We’re just friends.”
“Yeah. Well, my friends didn’t send me cookies when I came back to work after my accident.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, embarrassed at the attention the cookies had focused on him. “Just leave them here for everyone.”
“I was hoping you would say that.” Lydia grabbed a brownie and a chocolate chip cookie. She started tohead out, but turned back and grabbed one more cookie.
He raised his eyebrows at her and tried not to laugh.
“Hey! I’m starving. I missed breakfast,” she huffed.
“Sure. Whatever you say, Lydia.” Chad filled his cup with coffee. Before he headed back to his desk, he sighed and gave in, grabbing a brownie for himself
What did a person do in this situation? He was usually the one to send things, not receive them. And eventhen, he didn’t send things too often. No relationship, no real reason to send anything. Would texting“thank you” be enough?
He hoped so. After settling at his desk with his coffee and brownie, he pulled his phone from his pocket and shot off a quick “thank you.” Just before hitting SEND, he paused and decided to add more to the message.
Good luck with the play assignments.
Before he returned the phone to his pocket, it vibrated with a new message. He grinned when he saw the reply.
Glad you like the treats. Today is going to be long. Emotional teenagers. Drama with cast already. See you for dinner. Miss you.
Miss you? Why did that make Chad feel tingly? Why was he grinning? Crap.
When his desk phone rang, he reached for the receiver. Time to start back to work.
* * * *
As Chad pulled into the driveway that night, he was surprised at the rush of disappointment he felt at not seeing Jeff already there. He dismissed it as just being tired from his first day back at work and made his way inside, dropping his keys into the little yellow bowl on the entryway table.
He wanted to get out of his uniform and into something more comfortable, so he made a beeline to his roomand quickly stripped, hung his uniform in the closet, and dropped his underclothing into the hamper. Hepulled his favorite gray sweatpants from the dresser and slid them on, but he couldn’t find the T-shirt he wanted to wear. He padded barefoot downstairs to check the laundry room and smiled when he found the garment in the dryer. It was a little wrinkled, but he didn’t care.