“You put in for the day shift a few weeks ago.”
Cisco tried not to let his excitement show.
“You also made a notation that you’d be interested in working with kids at one of our town’s schools.”
Cisco couldn’t help it. His interest was piqued and his fingers tapped on his knees.
Was it possible he’d get both his wishes?
He’d been patient and bided his time in the job he’d held for the past nine years, but in the last few months he’d realized that as much as he loved his night-owl hours, it limited his connection to people with “regular” nine-to-five schedules. As well as that epiphany, he’d long since known that as a motorcycle cop, his bike had given him an “in” with the youth around town, and those interactions had led him to want more time mentoring the younger citizens of Orono.
“But as you know,” Uncle Frank continued, “we have several resource officers already covering all those school positions.”
Well, so much for fishing both wishes.
“However…”
Cisco’s ears perked up. This sounded like a good, “however”.
“…I’ve had a request from a woman who runs an overnight camp called Camp Venture out on Pushaw Lake. She’d like to run some self-defense courses for her campers, and asked if I had any recommendations for an officer who could help her out or take on the program.”
Hell, yes! That sounded like a job squarely in Cisco’s wheelhouse.
Ildavorg continued.
“Knowing the training you’ve had, not only with us but with your SWAT team, I figured you might be interested.”
“I am.” Cisco didn’t hesitate, and didn’t bother to hold back his excitement. Uncle Frank knew him too well for Cisco to play the indifference card. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” Frank stated, succinctly. “Which means that starting next week, you’ll be on the seven-to-three shift, Monday through Friday. Two days out of your work-week, you’ll head to Camp Venture to run some classes.”
The chief pushed a piece of paper across the desk, because… Right. His uncle was old-school, and if he could write something down, he’d never bother texting.
“Here’s the camp director’s contact information. I want you to take the next two days off to get in touch with her, scope the place out, and come up with a schedule that suits you both. How does that sound?” He sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face, crossing his arms over his still taut belly, as Cisco—who wasn’t a paper-person—adeptly keyed the date into his phone.
“You know it sounds awesome, Uncle Frank.” Cisco couldn’t help but beam. He’d been needing a shake-up to his boring routine, and here it was being handed to him on a platter. “Thanks for this. It’s just what I’ve been jonesing for.” He picked up the paper and stuffed it into his top, uniform pocket.
Still smiling, Cisco got to his feet. “I’ll let you know—"
“Wait,” his uncle interrupted. “Don’t you want to know how long the assignment will last?”
Cisco lost a little of his exuberance. Right. It was mid-June now, and even if camps were starting to ramp up for the summer, the season only lasted a few months and would be shutting down at the end of August. Did that mean both the camp gig and his change of shift were only temporary things?
“How long?” he asked cautiously.
“Well, the camp part of your assignment is only for two-and-a-half months.”
Just what Cisco had figured. His enthusiasm waned.
Frank, however, was still talking. “But after that’s wrapped up, if the day shift still seems to be agreeing with you, we can make that part of your schedule permanent.”
“Seriously?” Now Cisco was smiling again.
“I wouldn’t kid you about something like that,” Uncle Frank told him, also standing up. “You’ve worked hard. Probably harder than anyone on the force to prove your worth. And you’ve had to do it because everyone knows we’re almost family. Which means I waited this long to give you a better schedule so no one could cry favoritism. Now, any potential naysayers can one-hundred percent see that your years of service and your merits speak for themselves. You’ve earned this, son.”
Cisco would normally shake the man’s hand if there were people around. But since they were alone, he practically danced around the desk to give his nominal uncle a big, heartfelt bear hug.
“Thanks, Uncle Frank,” he said, his voice choking up a bit. “You won’t regret this.”
Uncle Frank clapped him on the back and spoke gruffly. “I know I won’t. But if I do, I’ll kick your ass back onto the three-to-eleven without blinking.”
Cisco stepped away and grinned. “Of course you will. But we both know that’s not going to happen.”
“See that it doesn’t. And son?”
His words stopped Cisco as he turned to head to the door. “Yeah, Uncle Frank?”
“Now that you have your nights free, your Aunt Suze wants you and your parents to come over for dinner this Thursday night. How does that sound?”
“Great,” Cisco replied. “But I’d like to be the first to tell Mom and Dad the good news. So can Aunt Suze hold off before she calls with her invitation?”
“Not a problem. She’s not back from her quilting thing until Sunday night. Does that give you enough time?”
“Perfect,” Cisco agreed. He normally saw his parents on Monday or Tuesday evening for dinner since those had been his full days off, but now that he was going to have a “regular person’s” schedule, he’d surprise the hell out of them by dropping in tomorrow afternoon. He’d surely have his business at the camp wrapped up by then.
He didn’t live far from his childhood home. Five years earlier he’d purchased his own small, rough but well-appointed bungalow just a few miles east of town, and had done a lot to fix it up and make it home, but he still liked his mom’s cooking, that was for sure.
Cisco grabbed the doorknob, but before he let himself out, he turned back. “I can’t say thank you, enough,” he told his uncle, nearly tearing up. “This is going to be a life-changer for me.”
