Day One: Prosaicness
6:32 AM. Right on schedule.
Ethan took a long sip, savoring the bitter warmth. As he set the mug down, his gaze fell on the framed photo propped against the windowsill. A younger version of himself grinned back, dressed in full Army Rangers gear, arm slung around a fellow soldier.
The sound of shuffling footsteps came grabbing his attention. Ethan's sister, Megan, appeared in the doorway, her auburn hair tousled from sleep. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, another restless night he mused.
"Morning," she mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee pot. "You're up early. Again."
Ethan shrugged, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Old habits die hard, I guess. Once a Ranger, always a Ranger."
Megan snorted, pouring herself a generous mug. "Yeah, well, some of us mere mortals need our beauty sleep." She slumped into the chair across from him, inhaling the coffee's aroma before taking a cautious sip.
They fell silent, the only sound the gentle ticking of the clock and the occasional chirp of birds outside. The quiet should have been soothing, but Ethan could see the restlessness in his sister's fidgeting fingers, the way her eyes kept darting to her silent phone.
"Any word on those job applications?" he asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral.
Megan's shoulders slumped. "Nothing yet. I mean, I knew switching from ER to clinic work would be an adjustment, but..." She trailed off, he could tell she was frustrated from the way she set her jaw.
Ethan reached across the table, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Hey, you'll find something. You're the best damn nurse I know."
"I'm the only nurse you know," Megan retorted, but a small smile softened her features.
Their moment was interrupted by the thunderous sound of feet pounding down the stairs. Sixteen-year-old Zoe burst into the kitchen, all gangly limbs and barely contained energy. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and her T-shirt bore the faded logo of a band Ethan had never heard of and didn't want to.
"Morning, Mom," Zoe chirped, dropping a quick kiss on Megan's cheek before rummaging through the cupboards. "Uncle Ethan," she added, her tone noticeably cooler.
Ethan felt a pang in his chest, that had been occurring all too often. He and Zoe had never been close, the age gap and distance between them created a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. Her resentment at being uprooted from her life in Seattle and plopped in Washington following her mother and father's divorce only widened that gap.
"Hey, kiddo," he offered, trying to keep his tone light. "Sleep okay?"
Zoe shrugged, not bothering to turn around as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. "Fine, I guess. This mattress feels like it's made of rocks, but whatever."
Megan shot Ethan an apologetic look. He waved it off, used to Zoe's prickly attitude by now.
"So," Ethan ventured, "any plans for the day?"
Zoe finally turned, leaning against the counter with her bowl cradled in her hands. "Yeah, actually. There's this cool art supply store downtown I wanted to check out. Maybe grab lunch after?"
The hopeful note in her voice made Megan's face light up. "That sounds great, honey! I can drive you-"
"Actually," Zoe interrupted, her eyes fixed on her cereal, "I was kind of hoping to go alone. You know, explore a bit."
Megan's smile faltered. "Oh. Well, I don't know if that's such a good idea. You're still new to the area, and-"
"Mom, I'm sixteen, not six," Zoe protested, a familiar edge creeping into her voice. "I can handle finding my way around a small city."
Ethan could see the conflict playing out on his sister's face. He cleared his throat, drawing both their attention. "How about a compromise? I've got some errands to run in town anyway. I could drop you off, let you explore for a couple hours, then we meet up for lunch?" He directed the question at Zoe, careful to keep his tone neutral, not wanting to seem like he was imposing.
Zoe hesitated, clearly she had an aversion to spending time with her uncle. Finally, she shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that works."
Megan visibly relaxed. "That's settled then. Thanks, Ethan." The gratitude in her eyes spoke volumes.
As Zoe retreated to the living room with her breakfast, Megan leaned in close to Ethan. "You sure about this? I know things have been... tense between you two."
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. "It's fine, Meg. Maybe some one-on-one time is what we need. Besides," he added with a grin, "I've faced down insurgents in Afghanistan. How bad can one teenage girl be?"
Megan laughed, the sound brightening the kitchen. "Oh, brother. You have no idea what you're in for."
The rest of the morning passed in a flurry of activity. Ethan showered and changed, opting for a plain black t-shirt and well-worn jeans.
Downstairs, he could hear Megan and Zoe's voices, the dynamic here was still new, all of them trying to find their footing in this makeshift family unit. Ethan knew his sister was struggling, torn between giving Zoe space and wanting to hold her close after everything they'd been through.
He made his way back to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to observe the scene. Megan was at the sink, washing the morning's dishes with more force than necessary. Zoe sat at the table, sketchbook open before her, charcoal pencil flying across the page. The furrow of concentration on her brow reminded Ethan so much of his sister at that age that it made his chest ache.
"Ready to head out?" he asked, breaking the silence.
Zoe looked up, a smudge of charcoal on her cheek. "Yeah, just let me grab my bag."
As she darted upstairs, Megan turned to Ethan, worry etched on her face. "Thanks again for doing this. I know it's not easy."
Ethan shrugged. "Hey, what's family for? Besides, maybe I'll finally get to hear about this mysterious art project she's been working on."
Megan's expression softened. "She's talented, you know. Really talented. I just wish..." She trailed off, but Ethan could fill in the blanks. Wished things were different. Wished their family wasn't fractured. Wished she could give Zoe the stability she deserved.
"Hey," Ethan said gently, "one day at a time, remember? You're doing great, Meg."
Before Megan could respond, Zoe reappeared, a battered messenger bag slung over her shoulder. "Okay, I'm ready."
The drive into downtown Tacoma was mostly silent, save for the low hum of the radio. Ethan kept stealing glances at Zoe, who seemed determined to stare out the window, her fingers tapping an erratic rhythm on her knee.
As they neared the city center, the streets grew busier. People hurried along the sidewalks, clutching coffee cups and briefcases.
"So," Ethan ventured, "this art store. What are you looking for?"
Zoe shrugged, not taking her eyes off the passing scenery. "Just some new sketching supplies. Maybe some watercolors."
"Sounds cool. You know, I always wished I had some artistic talent. Best I can manage is stick figures."
That earned him a small smirk. "Yeah, well, not everyone can be good at everything, I guess."
Ethan chuckled. "True enough. Though I'll have you know, my stick figures are top-notch. Could probably sell 'em for millions."
Zoe rolled her eyes, but Ethan caught the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.
As they approached a stoplight, a commotion on the sidewalk caught Ethan's attention. A cluster of people had gathered around a street performer, a man creating elaborate chalk drawings on the pavement. The artist's hands moved quickly bringing vibrant colors to life on the grey concrete.
"Wow," Zoe breathed, leaning forward in her seat to get a better look. "That's incredible."
Ethan nodded, somewhat impressed by the designs. "Yeah, it really is. You ever tried anything like that?"
Zoe shook her head. "No, but maybe..." She trailed off, her eyes still fixed on the artist as they drove past.
They lapsed back into silence, but it felt less strained now. As they neared the art supply store, Ethan cleared his throat. "So, lunch at 1? There's a pretty good deli just down the block."
Zoe nodded, already reaching for the door handle. "Yeah, sounds good. Thanks for the ride, Uncle Ethan."
As she stepped out of the car, Ethan felt a small surge of hope. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He watched as Zoe disappeared into the store, then pulled back into traffic. He had a few hours to kill before meeting her for lunch. Maybe he'd swing by his favorite coffee shop, see if they still offered that military discount. Yeah that he'd do.
No sooner did Ethan ease his weathered Ford F-150 into a parking spot outside Tacoma's oldest coffee shop, The Roasted Pine. He killed the engine, the truck's familiar rumble fading to silence. For a moment, he sat there, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, watching the ebb and flow of morning commuters on Pacific Avenue.
A convoy of olive-drab military vehicles growled past, clearly from Joint Base Lewis-McChord. Ethan's eyes narrowed, tracking their movement. Two years out of the Rangers, and still, the sight of those trucks made his pulse quicken.
He shook off the feeling and climbed out of the truck, boots crunching on loose gravel. .
The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside. Behind the counter, Sarah – the owner's daughter – looked up from the espresso machine she was tending. Her face broke into a warm smile.
"Well, if it isn't Tacoma's very own Davy Crockett," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "The usual?"
Ethan leaned against the counter, a half-smile playing on his lips. "You know me too well, Sarah. But make it a double shot today. I've got a long afternoon ahead."
Sarah raised an eyebrow as she began preparing his drink. "Oh? Big plans?"
"Heading out to the woods later. Scouting some new territory before the season opens."
"Always the hunter," she mused. "You know, one of these days you're going to have to take me out there. Show me what all the fuss is about."
Ethan chuckled, a low, warm sound. "Careful what you wish for. You might not like the 4 AM wake-up calls and the smell of deer urine."
Sarah wrinkled her nose but couldn't hide her grin. "Charming. Maybe I'll stick to the coffee shop after all." She slid the steaming cup across the counter. "There you go, one double-shot Americano. On the house for our local hero."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "Sarah, you don't have to—"
She waved him off. "Consider it a 'thank you' for your service. Besides," she added with a wink, "maybe it'll convince you to finally ask me out to dinner."
A flush crept up Ethan's neck, and he rubbed the back of his head, suddenly sheepish. "I, uh... I appreciate it, Sarah. Really. But with Megan and Zoe staying at the house, things are a bit complicated right now."
Sarah's smile softened. "How are they settling in?"
Ethan sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. The rich, bitter flavor rolled over his tongue. "It's... a process. Megan's still job hunting. And Zoe..." He trailed off, shaking his head.
"That bad, huh?"
"Let's just say she's not thrilled about leaving Seattle. Can't say I blame her. Being uprooted at sixteen, forced to live with an uncle she barely knows... it's a lot."
Sarah reached out, her hand brushing his arm. "Hey, you're doing a good thing, giving them a place to stay. It'll get easier."
Ethan nodded, not entirely convinced. "Thanks, Sarah. I hope you're right."
The bell chimed again as more customers entered. Sarah straightened, professional mode kicking in. "Duty calls. Don't be a stranger, Ethan. And good luck out there today."
Ethan raised his cup in a mock salute and turned to leave. As he reached the door, Sarah called out, "Oh, and Ethan? That dinner offer stands. Whenever you're ready."
He felt the warmth of her words follow him out onto the street, where the day was now in full swing. The sidewalks bustled with people hurrying to work, the air filled with the honking of car horns and the distant wail of sirens – the heartbeat of O' beautiful Tacoma.
Ethan checked his watch. Still a few hours before he needed to pick up Zoe. He decided to swing by Tacoma Sportsman, see if they had any new gear in stock.
The store was a hunter's paradise, walls lined with rifles, bows, and every piece of outdoor equipment imaginable. Ethan breathed in the scent of leather and gun oil, this was where he felt most at ease.
"Ethan!" A booming voice called from behind the counter. Mike, the store's owner and Ethan's longtime friend, grinned widely. "Here to drool over the new Remington?"
Ethan laughed, making his way over. "You know me too well, Mike. How's she handling?"
Mike's eyes lit up as he launched into a detailed description of the rifle's specs. Ethan listened intently, asking questions and sharing his own insights. It was a dance they'd performed countless times over the years.
As their conversation wound down, Ethan's gaze drifted to a compound bow mounted on the wall. Mike followed his look and smirked. "Still pining after that beauty, huh? You know, with your military discount..."
Ethan shook his head ruefully. "Don't tempt me, Mike. Between the house repairs and helping Megan get back on her feet, that bow's staying on the wall for now."
Mike's expression turned sympathetic. "How're they doing, by the way? Megan and the kid?"
Ethan leaned against the counter, his voice lowering. "It's... complicated. Megan's trying her best, but this divorce hit her hard. And Zoe..." He sighed. "Let's just say we're still finding our footing."
Mike nodded sagely. "Teenagers, man. They're a whole different kind of wildlife." He clapped Ethan on the shoulder. "Hey, why don't you bring Zoe out here sometime? Maybe getting her hands on some gear will spark an interest."
Ethan considered it, picturing Zoe's likely reaction to the suggestion. "Not a bad idea, actually. Might be a way to connect, if I can convince her to put down her phone for five minutes."
Mike grew a wide smile. "Glad I could help friend, don't want a repeat of Lisa now do we." He said in a non mocking tone but Ethan could barely hide his grimace.
"Right.. Well I've got a few more errors to run, make sure that compound keeps sitting pretty you hear."
Mike chuckled, casting a glance at the compound bow. "Aye, but don't take to long now, can't keep that pretty bird up there forever."