Spencer Hernandez is a kind-hearted firefighter in Haughville, Indiana. After working his long 24 hour shifts, he goes to diner where he spends time with her.
Between her gorgeous face and fast wit, Harper Kennedy is the woman of Spencer's dreams...
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Bleak.
Grey.
Miserable.
There were no words deep or dark enough to describe my life after Harper. I tried stopping by the diner to see her, but she refused to see me. Dorothy had become a buffer between the two of us, and after a few weeks, she seemed to change Harper's schedule, and our paths stopped crossing, well, unless I wanted to fully look like a stalker.
It was apparent that I had to move on with my life no matter how much I didn't want to. It's probably why I found myself at my mom's more nights of the week than not.
"Es bueno que estés aquí de nuevo." Mamá scooped another helping of rice on my plate.
I hummed. Of course, Mamá was happy to see me more as of late, but it wasn't lost on her that I was depressed.
Mamá looked at Dad who was clearly not paying much attention to either of us. She gave him a nudge, and he looked at her.
"What?"
"Talk to your son."
Dad looked at me. "You like the rice?"
I nodded. "It's good."
Dad looked back at Mamá. "There you go." He went back to his dinner.
Mamá clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.
The front door opened, and I looked up to see Hector coming in. He unwrapped his scarf from around his neck.
"God it's cold out there. Coldest Indiana winter in a long time." He looked startled when he saw me in the kitchen. "Spencer. You're here? Again?"
"I could say the same about you, brother." I shoveled more rice in my mouth.
"I'm here to put up the Christmas lights. You're clearly here to mooch off Mamá and Dad."
"No one is mooching," Mamá stood up for me in Spanish.
"He's been here how many times eating your food?" Hector leaned against the counter, continuing the conversation in Spanish.
"He's my son. He's always welcome."
"He's right here. Stop talking about him like he's not." I felt irritated.
"I really hate when you all talk in Spanish and exclude me," Dad chimed in.
"You're not even listening!"
Hector shook his head. "Look. You all eat, and Spencer when you're done, you're joining me on the roof."
"I'm going home."
"No," Hector said firmly. "You're helping out."
I groaned.
"Stop acting like a child." Hector scolded me in Spanish before he pushed himself off the counter. "I'll see you out there."
