Mitch opened his mouth to say something before abruptly closing it. "Yeah, we'll be sending all of you out there. The city manager is sending in crews too, so there should be plenty of help."
I nodded, turning on heel and heading for the back door. I needed to get away from all the eyes staring at me.
"You okay?" Josh asked when he joined me.
"I'm fine."
He looked skeptical as we climbed onto the ATV.
I shrugged. "This is my brave face," I said. "Believe me, I'll be all right."
He patted my knee and steered the ATV away from the station. Despite the damage caused by the storm, the roads were busy with cleanup crews and residents trickling back into town to survey the damage to their homes. Crews from the utility company were busily working on all the downed electrical lines. I hoped that meant power would be restored soon. Butch and Buttercup may have been able to survive without it, but I needed my modern comforts.
Josh and I headed to a nearby stretch of beach near the boardwalk where more cleanup crews joined us. "Wow," I said, taking in the number of people lying in the sand and playing in the water like it was any other day. The many small business owners were busy making quick work of cleaning up the area around their shops for the tourists and other patrons who were scattered about. Why wouldn't they? The storm had passed and life moved on.
"It's what we do," Josh said, dragging the broken half of a surfboard to our overflowing pile of rubbish. For a brief moment I wondered if the board had belonged to Evan, but I knew that was crazy, morbid thinking.
"That's cool," I replied with a bead of sweat trickling down my temple.
"The beaches are here for our enjoyment after all."
"As long as we do our part to preserve them," he reminded me. That was Josh for you. Always the Boy Scout. Although, that was one of the reasons I was falling for him. He had passion and that was something everyone needed.
"It's going to take us forever to preserve this one," I said, seeing a lot of work that needed to be done.
Josh nodded to a worker in an orange vest who had asked about bringing in a truck for the piles we had created. "Nah, it'll be back to normal before you know it," he said, addressing my comment. "Just think about all the community service hours you're busting out. I'm probably not supposed to tell you this, but I think Mitch plans on writing a letter to the judge to tell him how helpful you've been through this crisis to see about getting your sentence reduced."
I shrugged. "If they don't, it's okay. I like working with y—well, there," I added lamely, almost spilling my guts to him. He didn't need to know how much I liked seeing him every day.
He stopped to look at me. "You know I haven't forgotten what we talked about, right? This is not my idea of a date."
"Thank god, otherwise we would have a serious problem," I teased. "Honestly, I just like seeing you every day," I admitted, trying not to blush. I swear he turned me into a total sap.
"I like seeing you too," he said, wiping a smudge of sand from my cheek.
My heart swooned over his words. It felt wrong to be even a little bit happy after everything that had happened, but there was a lighter feeling in my chest.
The hours of the day ticked away. Clearing the beach was grueling and hot, but with the help of the city work crews we got the area cleaned up for miles in either direction of the boardwalk. In spite of all the reports we had heard about possible erosion, Josh seemed to think the beach had held up pretty well. Most of the houses and hotels that sat directly on the beach looked to be in good shape with no visible damage.
When we arrived back at the station I found out Butch and Buttercup had left earlier in the day, getting a ride home from another patrol officer so they could pitch in at cleaning up our own street.
"Mitch is making me take tomorrow and Wednesday off since I've been working so many hours," Josh said as we climbed into his truck. "He doesn't like me getting more than forty hours. I thought maybe we could hang out tomorrow."
"Of course," I said. "I want to go with you to Larry's service on Wednesday too, if that's okay?" I hoped I wasn't being presumptuous by inviting myself. After all, he had known Larry a whole lot longer. Maybe he wanted to go by himself or with the other guys from the station.
"I was hoping you did. I'm sure it's going to be rough," he sighed.
I nodded. I didn't know what to expect since I'd never been to a funeral. It made me wonder what plans Evan's parents had for his funeral. It would be in New York, I imagined. I was sad I wouldn't be able to pay my respects, just like I didn't have the chance to say my goodbyes.
Eventually, we made it to my house and I noticed right away the light over the garage door that led to my room. I must have left it on, but more importantly, the power had been restored.
It wasn't dark yet, but Josh climbed from his truck and walked me inside. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said after giving my room a quick survey. He smiled sympathetically and I knew what he meant without saying the words. He kissed me on the cheek before twisting the lock and closing the door behind him. I smiled when he twisted the knob from the outside to make sure it was locked.
After he left, I looked longingly at my bed. Working in the sun all day wiped me out every time. As bad as I wanted to jump right in, I forced myself to shower, not wanting to fall asleep too early. My intention was to get in and out quickly, but it felt so good I ended up sagging against the wall, letting the water cascade over me.
After dragging myself from the shower, I went into the house to have some dinner, and chatted with Butch and Buttercup until I could no longer keep my eyes open. My last coherent thought before I crashed was how I wished Player was there to comfort me, especially after being plagued by nightmares the entire night. Awful, vivid pictures of waves dragging me under the water haunted me to the point where I woke up sweating.
I was in the main house eating breakfast when Josh showed up almost simultaneously with Farrah, who had come over to drop off Player. She had just knocked on my door when Josh pulled up in his truck.