Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it ~ Mark Twain
For most of his life, Buck felt expendable. His sister tried her best, but Maddie was a child herself, and it isn't surprising that once she was free of the echoing neglect of their childhood home, she never really looked back. It isn't like she truly abandoned him, because in the end, she helped him escape, too.
He sold the Jeep she gave him years ago, but he kept the key. That key is one of the only possessions he has that traveled from Pennsylvania to Los Angeles with him. Christopher asked about it once, the oddball key on his keyring, and he told Christopher about riding alongside Maddie in the Jeep when he was her age. Christopher reached for the fob on his ring, the one that goes to the current Jeep, and smiled that impish smile of his.
It took Buck a week to get an extra fob from the dealership. The look on Christopher's face when Buck gave him the original one was worth every penny it cost him.
Buck hasn't seen Christopher in weeks, and who he may not see again, because Eddie looked at Buck with such frustrated loathing at the grocery store that Buck knows he's never going to be allowed around Christopher again. He doesn't blame Eddie for it. If the weeks after the tsunami left Buck with nightmares, of course they'd be worse for Christopher. Losing his mom the way he did on top of the disaster? Buck can't imagine how his little buddy is coping, and Buck has been too wrapped up in what he didn't have to consider what he did have.
Used to.
No longer has.
That's something he needs to get clear about in his mind right now.
His gaze goes back to his keys, tossed carelessly on the coffee table, and for the first time since he landed in Los Angeles, he thinks about running. It would be so easy to throw a few things into a duffel bag and go. He's traveled randomly before, and he knows how easy it is to find work for someone willing to do manual labor. It's not like he's forgotten how to tend bar, either.
There's always the savings he's built up, both from overtime he rarely spends and from the money his parents send, but he tries to never touch that for himself, and it won't last long. He knew Eddie would never let him pay for Christopher's private school tuition or anything that big. Getting Eddie to accept the smaller things like zoo and museum trips and gifts here and there is hard enough. Buck's been leveraging a good chunk of his 'stay away' money into a college fund for Christopher instead. He'd always figured if he stuck around Christopher that long, Eddie wouldn't mind so much by the time the kid's eighteen.
Just when he's worked up the energy to stand, there's a knock on the door.
Hope blooms, making his chest ache with the sheer surge of joy. No one's knocked on his door since the lawsuit. Granted, they weren't supposed to, aside from Maddie, but she told him as long as he couldn't talk to Chimney, he couldn't talk to her. With the lawsuit dropped, maybe she's willing to forgive him. He can't imagine anyone else stopping by, unless the lack of a lawsuit means Athena is finally going to come give him the lecture he figures he earned by trusting the lawyer that this would work to get him his job back.
If Buck had to make a short list of people he never expected to see standing outside his apartment door, the woman standing there would probably rank right under his parents.
"Natalie?"
It's been seven years since Virginia Beach and the gorgeous brunette he met while learning to surf, who convinced him to attend bartending school because the work hours left you plenty of time in the water. When she ended things and he left Virginia to work his way west, he honestly never thought she'd be anything other than a bittersweet memory.
They study each other, neither speaking, and he wonders at what she thinks of how he's changed in the meantime. She still has those same deeply expressive brown eyes he always adored, and the laugh lines around them haven't changed all that much. Her hair is a lot shorter than he ever thought she'd keep it, close to a buzzcut actually, and it's as much silver as brown now. It doesn't matter any more now than it did to twenty-year-old Buck, although it does make it easier to recognize that she's fifteen years older.
She's still the most beautiful woman he's ever had interested in him.
"Hi, Evan. Can I come in?"
Nodding, he steps back to usher her into the apartment. She looks so nervous and out of place that his polite instincts kick in. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"Coffee, if you don't mind."
The pot is already set up for morning, since Buck always leaves it that way, so it's just a matter of flicking the switch to start it now. He busies himself with getting two mugs down, carefully avoiding the two that are designated as Eddie's and Christopher's. When he glances over his shoulder, Natalie is standing behind one of the barstools, her hands resting on the back of it, looking awfully pale.
"If you want to have a seat, it won't be but a minute. You still like two sugars and a splash of milk?"
The bright smile she gives him makes him bless his memory about people's preferences. It made him a great bartender, works well in the rest of his life, but times like this? Setting someone at ease in his home is a boost he's needed lately. Natalie goes to sit on the couch, staring at the darkened television set much the way Buck had, and he wonders what brought her to his door with something so obviously weighing on her mind.
When he brings the mugs to the living room, she accepts hers with a muttered thanks, so Buck sits down in the armchair and searches for small talk. "Do you live in LA or just visiting?"
"A little of both, I guess." She sips at the coffee, grimaces that it's still too hot, and sets it down before twisting her hands anxiously. Even when she broke things off, she wasn't this nervous, and it's making him worry.
"It's a good city to live in," he says, setting his own mug aside. "Good surfing, if you're still into that."
Not that he'll manage anytime soon, not when the smell of salt water gives him nightmares.
"I'll keep that in mind." Natalie gives him a weak smile. "This isn't just a social visit."
"I figured as much. I mean, it's been over seven years. I'm surprised you even found me, to be honest."
The comment apparently gives her a place to start. "That part was harder than you'd think, even after I saw you on the news after the bombings."
Buck doesn't even try to hide the flinch at the reminder, and pain ghosts up his leg enough that he almost reaches out to rub it. The footage was broadcast nationwide and even went viral. It'll always be associated with his name, especially after the civilians rushed the truck to help get it off him. He's grateful for their help, and he understands why people see the video as heartwarming, but for him? It's just nightmare fuel.
"I'm sorry you had to see that and realize it was me," is all he manages to say.
The worry fades out of her expression to be replaced by sadness, and he gets the feeling that if he'd sat on the couch beside her, he'd be getting a hug right now. They're strangers now, more or less, but he feels a twinge of regret that he isn't closer. A hug would feel really good after the day he's had.
"I am sorry you had to go through it at all." Natalie sighs. "There's no polite way to say what I'm about to say, but I want to start off with the explanation that I did try to find you once before, after you left Virginia. But your parents and sister weren't helpful at all. You'd changed your number, so all I had to go on was contacting them."
Buck's heart sinks, thinking of just what sort of reception Natalie would have gotten from his parents. Maddie stonewalling Natalie feels odd, but he hadn't been gone long by them. Maybe Maddie thought she was protecting him somehow.
Natalie continues in a shaky voice. "We have a daughter. She's six years old, and her name is Brianna Eve. I call her Bree."
A lot of things have floored Buck emotionally over the years, and this year's been especially harsh. To hear he has a kid, and not only that, but a kid old enough to be attending school? It's like all the air's been sucked out of the room. He fumbles for his coffee mug, taking a big drink of the still too hot liquid, and wincing when he burns his mouth.
Then his brain catches up with the disclaimer Natalie made before the announcement.
"My parents and Maddie know?" His voice hits an embarrassingly high pitch as the implications of that wash over him.
He knows he's been irresponsible over the years, been far more promiscuous than he should have been, although he's always been extra careful when it comes to condoms. With Natalie, it hadn't been a one-night stand, and since neither of them were sleeping with anyone else for the six months they'd been together, they'd relied on her birth control. But as much as he knows his parents don't like him, surely at least Maddie would have told him he'd fathered a child.
"Just your parents, as far as I know. Maddie didn't let me get that far in conversation with her." Natalie grimaces, waving a hand over herself. "The second she realized our age difference, your sister turned ferocious and had me escorted out of her sight."
It helps, just a fraction, to know Maddie didn't keep this from him. Taking a deep breath, he considers his parents' likely reaction, and nothing about it is good. "What did my parents say?"
"Your father offered me substantial financial support to stay far, far away from your family. I told him no the first time, but when Maddie turned me away and I still couldn't find you, I called the lawyer whose card your father gave me. My medical bills for having Bree were covered, and there's been a substantial support payment every month since she was born, so long as I didn't contact anyone in the family again."
Natalie looks down at her feet, shoulders hunched. "Technically, I'm in violation of the agreement just by being here, but at this point, I don't really care."
"If you're here, does that mean…" Buck's voice cracks in that way he hates when he's emotional, and he has to swallow hard to settle it down enough to speak again. In the back of his mind, a voice is screaming that he's a father, and not pretending in the back of his mind the way he is with Christopher. "Does that mean you're going to allow me to see her?"
"Allow? Oh, Evan." Natalie is moving now, coming to stand in front of him. To his surprise, she cups his face between her hands. As touch starved as he's been lately, he finds himself leaning into the touch. "You'd have been seeing her from day one if it had been up to me. I never, ever would have kept her from you on purpose."
Buck can't help himself. He cries at the loss of years, literal years, of his daughter's life because his parents couldn't help themselves from adding just one more cruel act to all the ones that came before. How they end up on the couch, Natalie's arms wrapped around him, he isn't sure, but she isn't pushing him away. All he sees when he finally eases back enough to look at her is sorrow and compassion.
He uses the excuse of blowing his nose and washing his face to buy a few minutes to compose himself. When he steps back out of the bathroom, the sheer unknown starts to layer on him. He doesn't even know what his daughter - what Bree - looks like.
"Do you have any pictures?" he asks, hating that he sounds like he's a needy kid instead of a grown man.
Natalie reaches for the messenger bag she brought with her, taking out a series of framed photographs. When she lays them out on the coffee table, he realizes if these are his to keep, as he suspects, hanging them on a wall will give him a twice yearly progression of Bree's life. His breath catches as he kneels to study them.
From babyhood to young school age, Bree grows, her fluff of barely-there blonde hair progressing to a wild mop of curls. She reminds him more of Maddie than himself, especially with the big brown eyes she obviously got from Natalie. Amazement takes hold of him as he spots the dimples they share.
"She's beautiful, Natalie."
"I've got an Instagram, but it's private."
Natalie already has her phone out, so Buck fumbles for his. Instead of a dozen photos, he now has hundreds, maybe even thousands, and there are plenty of videos, too. Before he can stop himself, he presses play on the most recent video, laughing as he watches Bree giggle as a goat eats treats from her open palm, babbling to her mama about the goat licking her fingers. He recognizes the goat and sheep exhibit at the zoo, since he's taken Christopher there so often that he has a membership.
Despite his earlier tears, he feels them threaten again. "When can I meet her? Does she know that I'm her dad?"
"Yes, she knows you're her dad. For years, I told her about you, what I knew from when you were younger, and hoped that one day she'd get to meet you." Natalie laughs softly. "She used to make up stories about what you were out there doing. Maybe our kid is psychic, because being a firefighter was always one of her favorites."
When she pats the couch beside her, Buck realizes the kneeling isn't good for his leg and levers himself up to sit. He hits replay on the video, listening to the giggling again, and Natalie lets it play out before taking a deep breath.
"As for meeting her, what are you doing this afternoon? I know from your Instagram that you have a boyfriend and a son, and I won't say no to them meeting Bree at the same time, if you want to do it as a family."
Buck startles, giving her a sad smile. It isn't the first time someone has assumed he, Eddie, and Christopher are a package deal. He knows the last year of his Instagram is filled with photos of Christopher, although fewer of Eddie since he's not as much of a ham for the camera as his son.
"We aren't together."
Hell, after today, Buck's certain they aren't even friends anymore. He isn't immune to the chemistry between him and Eddie, but even if Buck were willing to risk his friendship and partnership with Eddie, he knows he can't compete with Shannon. Maybe if she'd lived long enough to get the divorce and disappear on Christopher again, Eddie might have lost that yearning he had for his wife, but Buck thinks that Shannon's dying will just cement her ghost into Eddie's life forever. Plus, Buck has no idea if Eddie's sexuality is even remotely flexible enough to consider a boyfriend as a possibility.
It probably says something about his relationship with Ali that Natalie doesn't even seem to know about her at all. He tries to remember if he ever posted any photos of them together and figures that he must not have. With Ali's busy work and travel schedule, it's entirely possible.
"Oh. I'm sorry about the breakup. The little boy? Is he Eddie's son then? Not yours? I wasn't sure how old he was, and his coloring was similar enough to yours I thought maybe…"
Natalie glances around the apartment, which does have signs of a child spending time here. Buck bought copious amounts of Legos and art supplies after Eddie was insistent that Christopher come over during his recovery. They're tidied away right now, but the bins they're in are clearly a child's. Christopher's name is even emblazoned on the front of the colorful storage setup. One of Christopher's jackets is hung next to Buck's, and there's a child-sized pair of shoes next to Buck's spare running shoes. He knows if he goes upstairs, there's a spare set of crutches in the corner near the closet.
Christopher's presence is everywhere.
"Yeah, Christopher is Eddie's son. He's eight." Buck leans back on the couch. "It's a long story, but we weren't dating, and Eddie's wife died less than a year ago. Maybe you could still call what happened with me and Eddie a breakup, but only in how friends sometimes come to the end of the road."
"I don't mind hearing a long story," Natalie says after looking at her watch. "Although how good are you at talking and driving? If you like, we can pick up Bree from school together."
Buck's sense of time has been skewed since the lawsuit. He's lost the regularity of either his twenty-four hour shifts with the firehouse or the eight-to-five of the fire marshal post. Her offer sounds like the best thing he's heard in weeks, even if he doesn't think he's had enough time to wrap his mind around the existence of a daughter yet. There's time for a crisis about that later, after he's laid eyes on Bree.
It turns out Natalie took an Uber to Buck's place, so they take his Jeep. After giving him the address, Natalie looks into the backseat, where the safety seat Buck bought for Christopher is still strapped into place. "We can park the Jeep at my house and walk back to the school, or drive through the car line, since you have a seat."
Thinking about the times he's gone through a car line at Christopher's school, combined with the stories he's heard from the other parents in the 118, Buck shakes his head. "I'm guessing it isn't that far to walk?"
"Around half a mile. But we've got at least a forty minute drive. Think you can fit that story in?"
"A condensed version, maybe?" Buck considers the horrific mess his life has been just for the last seven months. He supposes the good thing about what he's about to relay to Natalie is that they're going to her house first. If she changes her mind about him meeting Bree, at least he'll be dropping her off near enough to get to the school on time.
He starts talking, and he can't stop, because for the first time in weeks, someone is listening wholly and intently to him.
By the time he's pulling the Jeep into her driveway, Buck can't bring himself to look at Natalie at all. He parks clear of the gate and studies the pretty little yellow house with its matching blue flower boxes and front door. An older model Toyota Camry is parked under the carport, and he wishes he had asked her just how much his father decided was sufficient to support a child. She's lost that now, all for contact with him, and he's effectively unemployed.
The neighborhood isn't outrageously expensive to live in, but it's not cheap either. He thinks it must be nice for a child, though, to be further out of the city and in the San Gabriel foothills. Maybe Bree likes the outdoors, which is likely with him and Natalie as parents, and if so, he can figure out places to take her hiking.
Natalie's gentle touch on his arm makes him jump, and he tries a sheepish smile that fails miserably. Just like before, he sees compassion in her gaze. "You still want to introduce me to her?" he asks.
"We're going to unpack all the things I want to say about what you told me later." She squeezes his arm lightly before letting her hand drop away. "For now, let's go meet our daughter."
Buck knows that later, there are probably a million things he needs to know about Natalie and Bree's lives, including how Natalie found him. As much as he tends to take things at face value, and how desperately he needs a kind and friendly presence in his life, he has questions. Hopefully, those answers won't extinguish the embers of hope sparking to life in his chest.
Daring to smile, he falls into step beside her in the warm fall sunshine, each step bringing him closer to an entirely new life.
He likes the neighborhood and can see the appeal of living here. While many of the houses are on the small side and similar in some ways, they don't have the cookie-cutter feel of a more modern development. At one time, maybe they did, because he thinks they were all built in the fifties in the post-war boom, but decades passing means they've been changed and expanded in various ways to make them far more unique.
The sidewalks are a bit narrow, though, and they have to dodge a few vehicles using the sidewalks as parking, which makes him frown. "Do you normally walk?"
Natalie laughs as she shrugs. "When it's not raining, yeah. It's good exercise for us, and she's good at navigating."
"How long have you been in California?"
"Just for the school year. We arrived in August, just in time for school. Rented the house through an agent I contacted online, sight unseen, but we got really lucky there."
They'd been here when Buck had the embolism, it seems. He's kind of glad Natalie hadn't contacted him yet when that happened. He's even happier that she picked a house up in the hills instead of down in Santa Monica. But he mentions the time gap anyway.
"Were you just not sure of contacting me?" She'd mentioned seeing the bombing video, after all, and that was in April.
"Do you know how hard it is to contact a first responder when you don't want to blow up his entire life by walking into his workplace and announcing who you are? You don't own any real estate or anything else that's public record other than your place of employment." Natalie huffs, looking exasperated. "I'm not sure if the private investigator I finally hired would have turned over your address at all if I hadn't agreed to let him investigate me as thoroughly as he liked. I think the man knows what I had for breakfast in seventh grade by now."
Buck does own the loft, but the agent who sold it to him suggested setting up a trust so his address wasn't easily available to the general public. After the catfishing experience, Buck figured it was good advice and took it, just like he decided to get a mortgage rather than pay rent because the mortgage payment was cheaper. The down payment took a huge chunk of the money from his parents, and he takes satisfaction that he used it in a way they'd never imagine: responsibly.
"I don't think you could have done any more damage to my reputation than I've done myself by going to the firehouse."
It earns him an exasperated look from Natalie. "I'm glad I didn't have to. It would have felt wrong to tell anyone but you about Bree first, and I'm guessing even as fractured as you describe your relationship with your coworkers now, none of them would have handed out your address for anything less than that."
She's probably right about that, but Buck doesn't have time to comment because they're turning onto the street where the school is. He can see the person on duty standing there with a walkie talkie, leaning in to talk through the passenger side window. A tiny brunette jogs through the gate to hop into the back seat, already chattering happily. By the time they get across the street, another kid is parceled off in a vehicle, and two more have trotted out to join adults on foot.
Unsurprisingly, Buck feels panic flicker. As usual, he hadn't really thought ahead to the important question. "Does she know who I am?"
Natalie shakes her head. "Not yet. I was almost one hundred percent certain you'd want to meet her, but just in case…"
"I understand. Smart not to get her hopes up."
They've reached the front of the walkup parent line, and as soon as she closes the door on the most recent car rider, the woman on duty smiles brightly at Natalie.
"Good afternoon, Miss Bradford! I'll call for Bree." There's a crackle of the walkie talkie while the elderly lady summons "Bree Bradford, first grade" before she's off to the next car in line.
The five minutes it takes for Bree to appear at the school gate might be the longest five minutes Buck's ever experienced, although he knows it doesn't truly compare to being trapped under the truck or searching for Christopher after the tsunami. When Bree appears, clad in a bright red t-shirt and blue denim overall shorts, her backpack nestled on her back, his breath catches, and he has to remind himself that she has no idea who he is.
"Mommy!" she cries, running up to Natalie and hugging her before taking her hand. "We are learning about how people lived long ago."
"Oh, really? Why don't you tell me and my friend Buck all about that while we walk home?"
Bree smiles brightly, revealing that she's missing both of her bottom teeth. "Hi, Buck! Social studies is my favorite class ever!"
"I thought it was art," Natalie says, grinning as she twirls Bree to direct her down the sidewalk to clear the way for other parents.
"Well, yeah, art is my favorite, too. I can have more than one favorite, Mommy. You know that."
Buck has to drop back behind the pair as Natalie leads Bree back toward the house, but he doesn't mind. It lets him just take in the sight of his daughter and listen to her stories about her day. She's curious about him, but too excited to update Natalie about her day to pester the new person yet. The walk to the house is both too long and too short at the same time, and Natalie is unlocking her front door before Buck can even manage to figure out how in the world a father introduces himself to his six-year-old daughter for the very first time. No words seem adequate.
For now, he stays out of the way of their afternoon routine, memorizing every step of it. Once Bree's backpack is hung by the door, Natalie fetches a snack from the fridge along with a juice box while Bree trots off to the bathroom. Natalie motions for Buck to take a seat at the table before measuring out coffee and starting the machine. Buck sits opposite of where Natalie put Bree's snack, just in case Bree needs a little space for this conversation.
Curls bobbing as she shakes half-dry hands further dry, Bree favors him with a curious look as she climbs into her chair, reaching for an apple slice and jamming it into peanut butter. He isn't surprised when she manages to smear a portion of it over one cheek and doesn't bother to hide his smile, which makes her grin cheekily at him. She's even more amazing in person than in the pictures.
"Want an apple, too? The green ones are my favorite. Mommy doesn't like them because they're kind of sour, but they're the best kind to put peanut butter on."
"The green ones are my favorite, too," Buck says, reaching for a slice when Bree nods happily and pushes her plate closer to him. He does take a slice, not wanting her to think he's just humoring her.
Natalie's been darting little glances their way, and Buck wonders what she is thinking. Is she going to let him take the lead? Or is she just as jittery as he is about how to introduce them? Before Buck can decide to just take the plunge, Natalie stops fussing with coffee prep and comes to take the seat next to Bree.
"Sweetheart, remember how I said Mommy knew someone in California that we'd meet once we were all moved in and settled?"
Bree nods, crunching into another apple slice as she looks back and forth between the two adults. "You said he'd moved and you had to find his new address."
"Buck is the friend I was looking for. But you see, Buck is just a nickname. His real name is Evan."
"Just like my daddy?"
The excitement in Bree's voice—and the proof that Natalie's never hidden his identity from their daughter—makes Buck's chest ache.
"Yeah, baby, just like your daddy, because he is your dad."
Her latest apple slice hovering near her mouth, Bree stares at Buck for a long, long moment before taking a bite and chewing slowly and swallowing. He feels like he can barely breathe, waiting on her reaction, and it's only all his experience with Christopher that gives him the patience to just wait.
"Do you like Frozen?"
Relief floods through him, and he wonders if it's really going to be as easy as that. From what he remembers, Christopher welcomed Shannon back without any hesitation, so maybe he shouldn't be surprised. He's also glad he recognizes the movie thanks to one of the B shift guys having twin daughters obsessed with it last year.
"I love Disney movies, but I haven't seen that one. Maybe after your snack, you could tell me all about it?"
Bree looks a little horrified that he hasn't seen the movie, much like Chimney does when Buck doesn't recognize a movie made before Buck was even born. He knows the expression well, although it usually comes from someone older than him, not so much younger. "Or we could watch the movie, can't we, Mommy?"
From the mischief in Natalie's smile as she assures Bree that her daddy most certainly needs to experience the entire movie, Buck thinks he's about to be introduced to a little kid's obsession.
His first afternoon as a father is spent tucked up on the couch in a sunny living room, patiently learning to sing along with a song he knows is going to get really, really old one day. But when Bree wriggles close to wrap him in a hug when he rewinds the movie to get one more try at the lyrics, he knows it is absolutely going to be worth every single repeat. Returning the hug, he presses a kiss to the top of Bree's messy curls and revels in how much his life has changed for the better in a single day.