When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

36. Patrick

Chapter 36

Patrick

T urning from Emmy, I take a moment to survey the damage inside Mom’s house—it’s bad, the floors warmed and carpets soaked. Everything looks like it’s been through hell and back, and the smell of damp and fetid water makes me grimace as Mom moves to stand next to me.

“We’re probably going to have to rip up the carpet,” I say, kicking at a sodden edge. “But we should wait and see what your insurance says first.”

She nods, her expression tightening. “I don’t have supplemental insurance for flood damage for the house, only the gallery.” Her voice drops so only I can hear. I know she won’t want to worry Nora.

“Even with the pieces I’ve been commissioned to make, with all this damage to the house, I’m worried about money. I’ve got Emmy’s salary to pay, too. And I won’t let her go. She’s been so good for Granny Sloane. I feel like she’s practically part of the family.”

It’s true. Emmy has been exactly what Granny Sloane needed, and she seems to be rediscovering her independence and gaining mobility every day .

“I know. We’ll figure it out. One step at a time. I can take on some extra work. It’ll be okay.”

We exchange a brief look, Mom unaware of how this new financial strain will add to an already difficult situation. Sometimes the things we keep secret to protect the people we love carry the most weight of all.

I glance around the room, avoiding Emmy’s gaze. She’s been amazing, pitching in and keeping everyone’s spirits up, but the complexity of my feelings for her is something I can’t deal with right now, especially not with this latest financial blow.

“I’ve got to get into town and start work,” I say, turning away from the group. “I have some fire safety consulting stuff to do after work, so don’t wait up.”

“You’re working too hard.” Mom gives me a concerned look. “Don’t forget it’s Dad’s birthday tomorrow. We’re going to watch some home movies at Granny Sloane’s place and I’ll make lasagna.”

“I’ll be there. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Paddy.”

I keep walking, not trusting myself to look back, wishing Mom would stop calling me that, and knowing Emmy will see the emotion I’m working hard to hide if I look in her direction. The last thing I need right now is for those hazel eyes to see right through me.

The drive into town is somber: there’s a lot of damage that needs to be fixed. I try to focus on everything I need to do today, and when I pull up to the fire station, I take a deep breath. Time to put all personal feelings aside and get to work.

The day passes in a blur of shifting debris, phone calls, and coordinating the various volunteer groups still showing up for the Valiant Hearts. By mid-afternoon, I decide to check in at the Tidal Tavern. The familiar building has seen better days: there’s water damage to all the walls and the windows are still boarded up. Blake is outside, directing some of the bar staff as they clear debris.

“Patrick,” she calls out, coming over to pull me into a quick embrace. Her red hair is tied into a bun on top of her head, and she’s traded her usual skinny jeans and tank top for sweatpants and a dirt-smeared hoodie.

“Things look bad here.” I shake my head. “Sorry we haven’t been around to help yet. I’ll send some of my boys out here tomorrow, promise.”

“Don’t worry, I get it. I’ve seen how hard you guys are working.” Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. “Are you okay? You’ve got such dark circles under your eyes. When did you last eat?”

I blink, trying to recall. “I can’t remember,” I admit. It must have been the toast at Granny Sloane’s just after dawn.

She frowns. “Come on. Let’s get you something at the bakery. You need to keep your strength up.”

Reluctantly, I follow her. The bakery is still a mess, but Alex and Tom are hard at work, the smell of fresh pastries and coffee wafting through the air as we get nearer. Blake grabs a couple of pastries and two coffees, handing one of each to me, and we cross the road to sit on the wall overlooking the harbor.

The water beneath the pier is murky and dark, with pieces of broken wood and other debris floating on its surface, and the massive waves from the night of the hurricane have settled into small ripples, giving the water an eerie movement, the garbage dancing aimlessly in the gentle currents. A few locals walk their dogs along the boardwalk, but there’s a sense of unease, as if the calm is only temporary and could be shattered again at any moment.

“Nice pastry,” I say, smiling at Blake. She was right—I needed this. Some food. To sit down for a few minutes.

“So good,” she agrees, her mouth full.

I can’t remember the last time I hung out with Blake. It was definitely before Danny died. We’ve known each other for a long time, and we settle into a comfortable silence, both watching the bits of detritus bob up and down, carried by the current and getting caught under the wooden pier as we eat and drink .

As I take a bite, Emmy and Nora come into view, walking down Main Street in our direction. They must be coming from the gallery. They stop in front of the bakery and spot me with Blake a moment later. Emmy’s expression shifts, and I can see the hurt in her eyes. She masks it quickly, but not quick enough.

“Hey,” I say, raising a hand to wave at them.

“Hey, you two,” Nora replies, and they cross the road to where we sit. “Just checking on the gallery. It’s finally drained and is drying out. Hard to believe Karen caused so much damage, especially now the weather is back to normal.”

“The tavern is a total mess, too,” Blake says, shaking her head. “Although we got off lightly compared to some of the areas. The barrier islands are in really bad shape.”

Emmy offers a tight smile as I introduce her to Blake. “We just stopped for a quick bite to eat,” I say.

“Yeah, Alex and Tom are troopers,” Blake chimes in, oblivious to the tension. “Keeping us all caffeinated and fed.”

Emmy forces a smile, her eyes flicking between Blake and me. “That’s great. Well, we should get going. Lots to do.”

“Of course.” The words stick in my throat—I want to reach for her, but can’t. “See you later.”

I know how it must look—me here with Blake, while Emmy thinks I’m not serious about her, no time to date her properly but crawling into her bed every night. And now she’s left with the wrong impression, which is going to hurt, especially after what happened with her fiancé. There’s no way for me to reassure her because she’s already gone and we won’t be alone together till later.

“Patrick?” Blake’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lie, taking another bite of the pastry. “Just a lot on my mind.”

She gives me a sympathetic look, but I can barely focus on her. I have to find a way to make this right, to show Emmy that she’s more than just a way to escape my stress, to forget about my responsibilities for a while. She’s much more, and the only one in my heart.

“Thanks for the food and coffee,” I say, standing up. “I should get back to work.”

“Take care of yourself,” she calls after me, but I’m already moving, my thoughts miles away.

As I think about what I’m going to say to Emmy, it occurs to me that Liam and Ethan haven’t been around town all day as far as I’ve seen, and I add speaking to my foolish brother—if we’re ever in the same place at the same time or he switches his damned phone on—to my ever growing to-do list.