The front door banged open, and a young woman stumbled inside, her arms filled. “Hey, Jake. I’ve got the salads for tonight’s movie. Oh, hi.” Big blue eyes peeked over the top of the grocery bags. Roman caught sight of a thick black braid curving over one shoulder of her white chef’s uniform. “You’re the new fire chief.” She angled a smile at him. “Alethea Costas. My brother mentioned meeting you. Nice to put a face to the name.”
“And you.” Roman nodded, tried to push aside Jake’s last warning, then plucked the bags out of her arms. “Kitchen?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve got more in the car outside.”
After divesting himself of the first load, he went to help her unpack the rest. “What is all this?”
“Leftovers from the food truck. We’re hosting that movie tonight to help raise money for Shirley’s new kitchen appliances. Her insurance is only covering about half.” She hefted one of the bags. “Going to make a big batch of spaghetti and then offer side salads and hot chocolate floats for dessert.”
“So it’s not just for the kids.”
“No way. Admission is ten bucks each or twenty for a family of four or more. If it goes well, we’ll make it a monthly event to raise money for a new van for youth center field trips. Hey, Jake.” Alethea nodded at him as they headed back inside. “Give him one of our flyers, would you?” She disappeared into the kitchen.
“Alethea was driving the van when it broke down,” Jake explained, doing as he was instructed and handing over a flyer. “She decided we need a new one. She’s probably right. The thing’s more than twenty years old and was donated to us.”
Roman glanced at the flyer, then scanned their calendar of events. “Do they teach machinery and mechanics at the high school?”
“Used to.” Jake arched a brow when Roman looked back at him.
“Right. Budget cuts. I can cover you on that if you want to add it to the schedule. Never too early to learn about cars, since most are going to drive one at some point.”
“How long for each class?” Jake was already scribbling.
“A couple of hours?” Roman was spitballing at this point. He’d jot down some ideas when he got back to the station.
“Ages?”
“Probably older than seven.” He thought of Phoebe MacBride, who could handle herself in the class. “Girls and boys. Everyone should know the basics,” Roman said.
“Especially with Cal Mopton talking about retiring and closing his repair shop.” Jake reached for the doughnut bag and peered inside. “If he does that, people will have to drive a good half hour for a tune-up or repair.”
“Right now that’s just talk.” Alethea joined them. “But it couldn’t hurt to know the basics. And I’ll be your first student. You going to teach how to do oil changes? Like on commercial vehicles?”
“Food trucks and vans, for example?” Roman suggested and earned a grin. “Yeah, sure. I can do that.”
“Great. I’ll get the flyers made up for after the first of the year,” Alethea said. “Schedule’s going to be super crowded between now and New Year’s.”
“Yes,” Roman said, thinking of Jake’s upcoming wedding. “I imagine it is.”
Once the doughnuts and coffee were gone, Roman took his leave and sent himself an email regarding the various classes he’d volunteered to conduct. He’d always enjoyed the community outreach part of the job, but he also knew it looked great on a résumé. Everything he could add to his experience level was just one more boost to his profile, a profile he hoped someone at the federal fire investigative task force would notice once he applied for a new position.
Something he really needed to do if he was going to keep his momentum going.
He took his now-familiar route around the edge of town, enjoying the cool air coming in off the ocean on one side, the line of stores and businesses on the other. It was still relatively early, but the diner was packed. Not that he needed breakfast after the tasty offerings from the bakery, but he could do with another cup of coffee. He was about to pull open the door to the diner when his phone rang. “Salazar. Go.”
“Is that any way to speak to your mother?”
Roman tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. He knew he was going to pay for having avoided her calls in the last week. “Hey, Mom. How’s the Baltic?”
“It was freezing. Which is why I’m now home. Something you’d know if you returned my calls or listened to your messages.”