The Year I Almost Drowned by Shannon McCrimmon Read Free Book Online

knew
    working one day a week did not pay him enough to afford this extravagance.

    “Order anything you want,” he said, watching me as I read the menu.

    I
    frowned.
    “Everything’s
    expensive.”

    “Finn, just get what you want. I want you to have a good time.” I stared back at
    the menu, my lips twisted to the side, my forehead creased. “Really, Finn. I’ve got
    it taken care of,” he said. His light blue eyes looked into mine.

    “Okay,”
    I
    agreed.
    “I
    will.
    Promise.”

    “Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief and took a sip of water.

    “When did you plan this?” I asked. It had to have taken some planning. This was
    not the type of restaurant anyone could just walk into, that was obvious from the
    required
    reservations.

    “A
    few
    weeks
    ago.”

    “It’s
    very
    romantic,”
    I
    whispered.

    He laughed and the loud boisterous pleasing sound was heard throughout the
    quiet restaurant. A few other couples sitting at nearby tables glanced at us and
    then
    looked
    away,
    going
    back
    to
    their
    quiet
    conversations.

    “I miss you,” he admitted. “I hate not seeing you all the time.”

    “Me, too.” I held onto his hand, it was dry and callused. “Where’s this from?” I
    rubbed
    a
    large,
    lumpy
    blister.

    “School.” He let go of my hands. “Tying knots, the work outs, carrying a hose with
    so much water pressure your arm wants to fall off by the end of the day, you
    name
    it.
    Any
    of
    it
    could’ve
    given
    it
    to
    me.”

    “It
    sounds
    tough.”
    I
    frowned.

    “It has to be. You know when we started school, there were forty people in the
    class. We’re down to ten. Ten, Finn. They have to make things tough on us. It’ll
    be a lot harder once I’m a firefighter.” He took a sip of water again and looked at
    our
    waiter
    who
    had
    just
    arrived.

    “Are
    you
    ready
    to
    order?”
    the
    waiter
    asked.

    “Finn?” Jesse said, indicating for me to go first. He was such a gentleman. Jesse
    and
    I
    both
    ordered
    the
    filet
    mignon.

    “You’re such a gentleman. Who’d you learn all the chivalrous peculiarities from?”
    I
    asked.

    He snickered. “Chivalrous peculiarities,” he mimicked. “You and your
    vocabulary.” He took a deep breath. “My mom and Charlie–they taught me how
    to
    be
    a
    gentleman.”

    “My
    grandfather?”

    “Yeah. When we were in boy scouts together, he’d give me some pointers. Then,
    when I started working for him, he really let me have it with the advice. I’m glad,
    though.”

    “And your mom?” He didn’t talk about her a lot, but when he did I could tell how
    much he missed her, how much she must have meant to him.

    “She made me open her door when we’d go out. You know, things like that. It just
    stuck.”

    “I
    bet
    she
    was
    a
    terrific
    mom.”

    He nodded and said, “She was. She was more than terrific, she was perfect. Mom
    was the type that brought cupcakes to school for holiday parties and all the other
    kids envied me because they wanted her to be their mom. I really miss her.” He
    had a pensive expression and then he slightly smiled. “You remind me of her.”

    “Me?”
    I
    pointed
    to
    myself.

    “Yeah.
    You
    see
    the
    good
    in everyone
    just
    like
    she did.”

    That was one of the sweetest compliments Jesse had ever given me. I didn’t
    know how to respond to that, so I didn’t. He stared out the window and moved his
    head in a circular motion and a cracking sound came out. “Ouch, that didn’t sound
    very
    good.”

    “I’m just sore. We had to repeat workouts ten times the other day because Stench
    messed up. Poor guy, he always gets yelled at by one of the instructors. I feel
    sorry
    for
    him.”

    “Me, too, and I don’t even know him. Why is his name Stench?” I asked curiously.

    “We all have nicknames. I’m Blaze,” he said, and I rolled my eyes. He continued,
    “Noah, he’s Flash, because he’s so quick. Steve Dombrowski is Stench