“Horrifying.” Ty spied a package of pudding cups and immediately snapped one off and ripped open the foil. If he couldn’t medicate with alcohol, chocolate was an acceptable placebo. He grabbed a spoon from a drawer. “My father’s final”—he glanced around and, not seeing Theo, continued—“fuck-you is that after he’s gone, I get to spend three years of my life sorting out his financial shit.” He shoveled in a spoonful of pudding. Yep, that was the stuff. “Thanks for going grocery shopping.” It looked like he’d even used the list Ty had stuck to the fridge.
Ollie shrugged. “We eat too. Besides, you’ve got enough on your plate.”
Yeah. Ty was starting to get a headache.
No, wait. He’d forgotten to eat breakfast. Or lunch. He probably needed to fix that.
Ty finished the pudding cup and took care of the garbage. Then he stuck his head back in the fridge. “Sandwiches for lunch?”
They were putting the finishing touches on the food when Ty’s phone rang. Caller ID readChicago EMS.
Oh good. Another fun way to spend his Saturday.
“You and Theo eat.” Ty held up the phone. “I have to… yeah.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let Theo eat all the pickles.”
Ty ducked into his father’s office, grimaced at the ostentatious, self-important-looking desk chair, and kicked his feet up on the tufted leather couch instead. “Tyler Morris.”
“Commander Morris. This is Field Chief Rivers.”
Of course it was Ty’s boss’s boss. “Chief Rivers, hi. To what do I owe the pleasure?” As if he didn’t already know.
“I just wanted to check in with my newest ambulance commander. How are you holding up?”
Ty puffed out a breath. “I’m doing okay. I have a lot of stuff to sort through with my dad’s estate, but I hired a company to help out with it. I should be back to work by the middle of June.”
Rivers sighed. “Tyler, I asked how you’re doing, not when you’re coming back.”
Right. “Sorry.”
“You’re supposed to let me get through the pleasantries first,” she said reprovingly. “I ask if you got the flowers the department sent, you thank me for the thoughtful gesture, we make small talk about grief for two minutes, andthenI move in and ask when you’re coming back to Chicago.”
Ty smiled. He liked his boss so much. She was a straight shooter. “You should just send me the script next time.”
She laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. You’re really doing okay, though?”
“I’m really okay. You know my dad and I weren’t exactly close.”
“That doesn’t always make it easier.”
She was not wrong about that. “No kidding.” He wriggled deeper into the sofa. “Anyway, I’m keeping busy. Keeping sharp, even. Got a fancy gig teaching the next generation of paramedics.”
“God, please tell me you’re joking. Samira’s great, but she’s not you. The paperwork isnotthe same.”
“Relax. An elementary teacher at my old school had a cryptic pregnancy, and they asked if I could teach some third graders first aid for a couple weeks until school’s out.”
“That doesn’t count toward your professional education hours. Just saying.”
Ty hummed. “I should see if they’re offering anything nearby, since I’m here anyway. Get it out of the way.” He had to take a set number of hours of CME credits every year to recertify.
“Nothing locally?”
Ha. As if. “You ever look at a map and try to find this place? We don’t even have a fire station. Nearest one’s ten miles from here.”
“At least I don’t have to worry about them stealing you away from me.” Ty’s disdain for any sort of commute was a running joke in Chicago. He took the L into work, Ubered home if he’d had a long shift, and usually made someone else drive the ambulance.
“They don’t evenlikeme here.” Ty could barely go to the grocery store without getting stink eye. “Believe me, I’ll be glad to be back home.”
