A Home for the Firefighter

by Amie Denman

  “Hey,” she said, standing as he got out of his truck.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  She shrugged. “No big deal. Do you need a minute to change before we go out?”

  Brady stopped on the top step where he was eye level with Kate. “Would you mind if I order pizza and we eat here?”

  It would be intimate and private inviting anyone into his home, but with Kate, he was afraid it was something more: risky. She was clearly not a homebody, and her hesitation at the simple question made him wish he hadn’t asked.

  “Sure, that’s fine,” she said.

  Before she could change her mind, Brady unlocked the front door and waited for her to step through first.

  “Beer?” he asked.

  “Whatever you’re having.”

  He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “I’m having dinner with someone I care about and who reportedly has some good news to share.”

  “No hurry,” Kate said. She tipped her chin up and kissed him lightly. The gesture was friendly and playful, but her eyes were serious. Brady loved the feel of her in his arms, the way her hair brushed his cheek and tickled his neck. Having her in his home added to the poignant sense of time slipping away and the sad knowledge that their dinners, walks on the beach and conversations were finite. He rubbed her back and then let her go so he could hang up his keys and hat and put his wallet in the tray on the table by the front door. His brother’s wallet, keys and baseball cap were missing, and Brady knew Noah and Corrinne would be gone a few more hours on their trip with Bella to an amusement park an hour away.

  Brady watched Kate as she glanced around his living room. A colorful cardboard dollhouse took up a large space next to the couch, and there were princess DVDs stacked on top of the television. Plastic building blocks were on the coffee table next to a public safety magazine he subscribed to and a pair of his brother’s sunglasses. His house wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t a museum. The personal articles belonging to its occupants were part of what made it a home.

  “You probably don’t have plastic ponies next to your bathtub and fifteen different hair ribbons in the vanity drawer,” Brady said.

  “Not now, but I did growing up. I think I had some of those same movies.” Kate smiled. “They never go out of style.”

  Brady felt his shoulders relax. Kate wanted her freedom and had no interest in settling down, but she also never seemed to be judging him for his choices, his life.

  “Any special pizza requests?” He got his phone out of his pocket and his finger hovered over the number in his contact list. “I love extra cheese and sausage, but we could always get two smalls or do a half and half.”

  “I also like extra cheese and sausage, and could we have them put mushrooms on half?”

  “We can do the whole. My brother likes mushrooms, and I’ve learned to adapt since he’s living with me.”

  Kate cocked her head and he could see a question coming. “Will he stay, now that he seems to be...reunited with Corrinne?”

  Brady lowered his phone. “I wish I knew.”

  “You want him to, and Bella,” Kate said. It was more a statement of understanding than a question.

  Brady nodded. “It’s part of my reason for house shopping. Not all of it, but part.”

  He wanted to talk about what he suspected was happening with his brother’s family, but this evening was about Kate and her news. But first, he was starving. Brady called in his pizza order and then motioned Kate into the kitchen.

  “I think the glasses are in that cabinet,” he said. “But that could have changed. My brother helps out by emptying the dishwasher, and I’m never quite sure where I’m going to find things.”

  “You don’t have a prearranged place for everything?” Kate asked.

  “Do I seem that rigid to you?”

  Kate regarded him for a moment. “No, but you do seem organized.”

  Brady shrugged. “I’m organized about the important things like paying my bills on time, showing up to both my jobs when I’m supposed to and getting my oil changed. But cups and bowls? I don’t get too worked up about it.”

  Kate laughed. “My mother would absolutely lose it if someone moved stuff around in her kitchen.”

  “Picky?”

  “Petrified into a lifetime of habits.”

  Brady got two beers from the fridge while Kate opened and closed three cabinets before she found two tall clear glasses. She put them on the counter and Brady poured the cold beer into them.

  “I thought you were a creature of habit and that’s why you want your own house, so you can control the space and keep everything just as you want it,” Kate said.

  He smiled at her over the edge of his glass before taking a sip. “That’s a lot of accusations in one sentence.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation.”

  Brady leaned against the counter. “I want my own house so I don’t wonder where I’m going to be every night.”

  “But you’re renting this place and you don’t have to wonder.”

  He laughed. “Except for sleuthing out where the can opener is, you’re right. But it’s not the same as having a piece of property to call my own.”

  Kate sighed. “My parents would love you.”

  Brady felt his breath catch, and he felt like he’d just opened a window blind in a dark room to find glorious sunshine outside.

  Kate sat at the kitchen table and took a drink. She glanced up at Brady, a question on her face, and he realized he was immobilized when he should be sitting down with her. He pulled out a chair and eased into it, almost afraid to break the spell of conversation that might tell him what he wondered about Kate.

  “They believe personal property is very important. The house must be just so, the car leased so it’s always just a year or two old, furniture tasteful and a patio that looks as if it could be an advertisement for a magazine.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with liking nice things.”

  “It’s wrong to be owned by things.”

  “Do you think I’ll be owned by a house if I manage to get one?”

  Kate took a long sip of her beer and didn’t meet his eyes. “No,” she said quietly.

  “So this is why you’re always on the move, not wanting to get tied down to anything or anyone.”

  Anyone like him.

  Kate’s silence answered the question for her.

  “It doesn’t have to be that way, Kate. Lots of people have a nice house and a car and a comfortable reclining chair in front of a television, and they keep their perspective.”

  “I’d rather be out on the open road than behind a television.”

  Brady clinked his glass against hers. “Which brings us to your big news, which I’m guessing has something to do with flying away.”

  The words cost him almost as much as the light tone he mustered up to deliver them. If he could keep Kate at his dining room table long enough to convince her he was worth taking a risk, risking her abhorrence of permanent things, risking her heart... Or maybe they could sit there all night and it would never change her mind.

  He had to take whatever she was willing to offer, no matter how transitory. The glimmers of happiness were worth it.

  She looked at him with a faint smile that told him that he’d managed to turn the tide of their conversation. He couldn’t offer her much—she wouldn’t take it—but he could offer her an ear and his friendship.

  “I got into the flight attendant school and got a big scholarship,” she said.

  Brady leaned in and kissed her temple. “Congratulations. They’re lucky to have you.”

  If only he were so lucky.

  “Thanks. I could double my scholarship if I commit to a year of international flights.”

  Brady kept his expression the same—at least
he hoped so—but his heart sank. He knew she was going away, but as long as he could look up and imagine her crossing over the sky above Cape Pursuit, and as long as the airport only an hour away remained in business, he could keep alive the hope that she might drive into town. Hadn’t he been surprised to see her at the beginning of the summer? Maybe she had some surprises left.

  “And I’m sure you’ll say yes to that,” he said, smiling. “What a great opportunity.”

  The doorbell rang, and Brady got up to get the pizza, but he knew food would never fill up the gaping hole inside him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “YOU WON,” BRADY said as he got on the trolley the next morning to join Kate as her coguide.

  “You mean the surfboard, right?” Kate asked from the driver’s seat. She had looked at her phone before she got in the shower and was surprised to be the random recipient of the employee prize of a surfboard. She had never owned anything large, other than a car, and her first thought was to wonder where on earth she would stow a surfboard. Could she get a roof rack for the Escape and drive around looking like someone on a permanent vacation?

  Brady smiled, but he cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem very enthusiastic for someone who just won a prize valued at around five hundred bucks.”

  She raised her shoulders and held both hands palms up. “I don’t know how to surf, and I don’t have any place to keep a surfboard. I’ll look pretty silly trying to stuff it into the overhead storage on an airplane as part of my crew luggage.”

  “You could leave it at my place, but I can’t guarantee I won’t use it.”

  “You know how to surf?” Kate didn’t know why that surprised her. Brady seemed more like a guy who, by his own admission, liked to keep both feet on the ground. He was uncomfortable with the idea of flying, but he surfed? Maybe she shouldn’t try to define him into a neat box.

  Brady laughed. “You said that as if I told you I knitted a prize-winning blanket for the county fair last year.”

  “Did you?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing against yarn, but no. But I do like to surf. I’m not likely to win any competitions, but I don’t always disgrace myself, either.” He propped a hand on the pole behind her driver’s seat. “How about going to the beach after work so you can try out your new board?”

  “You want to try it, don’t you?” Kate asked.

  Brady leaned in and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “I want to have fun with you. And maybe your new board. I could teach you.”

  Kate was not one of those girls who went to summer camp where kids swam in lakes, paddled canoes and climbed trees. Her parents would have considered that a dangerous invitation to scraped knees, leeches and poison ivy. Their family vacations were to carefully controlled and perfectly manicured resorts where, usually, some of her parents’ friends or her father’s business associates were also vacationing. There had never been surfing or water sports. Instead, there had been five-course dinners and trips to art museums.

  “I don’t know,” she told Brady as she pulled away from the office parking lot. They headed for the first stop where tourists might already be waiting even though it was just eight in the morning.

  Brady sat down on the front seat and put his chin on his hands. Kate glanced up at the mirror above her head and saw his dejected-looking reflection. He looked like a boy who wanted a puppy but had been summarily rejected as a pet owner.

  “Maybe we could build a sandcastle or something. I’m afraid I’ll humiliate myself trying to surf,” she admitted.

  “Of course you will,” he said. “You’ll eat a mouthful of sand as you wash in on your face. I may even have to rescue you. And you’ll be too sore tomorrow to even crawl up the steps onto the trolley.”

  Kate laughed. “So why would I want to do this?”

  “Because you of all people aren’t afraid to try something new, especially with someone like me as an instructor.”

  “Someone like you?” she asked.

  “Experienced, trustworthy and invested in your survival until at least the end of the summer,” Brady said.

  Kate was happy to agree to the first two qualities he attributed to himself. The third one gave her heart a little squeeze. She had warned him not to get too involved with her, had never led him to think she’d stick around. He was putting her in an unfair situation.

  “And by invested, I mean I’m still hoping to win the top prize and you may be my toughest competition. If I let you die surfing, people will say I’m bumping off the competition,” he said with a huge grin she saw reflected in the mirror above her head.

  Kate sighed. “Fine. I’ll try surfing for a little while, but I have to be able to work tomorrow so I can’t take too many chances.”

  “This is going to be fun,” he said.

  Later that day, Kate and Brady clocked out after hours of driving tourists to the beach and they headed to the beach themselves. They both went home to change first, and once Kate was in her apartment, she seriously considered chickening out. She had an ocean-blue bathing suit—a one-piece practical garment—that she liked, but she regretted her uneven tan. With fair skin and a lot of time driving the trolley, she was very pale except for tanned forearms and a swath of leg ranging from midthigh where her shorts ended to the sock line at her ankle.

  She didn’t like looking ridiculous, and she certainly didn’t like the feeling of being out of control, which would certainly be part of learning to stand on a narrow board on top of water. Someone else should definitely have won the surfboard prize.

  Kate thought about faking a headache or claiming George had called her in to work on some paperwork in the office. Even if Brady suspected it was a ruse, he would smile pleasantly and let her off the hook. But he didn’t deserve to be lied to.

  She put on the suit, tossed a long T-shirt over it, slid her feet into flip-flops and trudged back to her car. Brady was already waiting at the company office building right next to the beach, and he had her surfboard tucked under his arm. He wore red swim trunks and a white swim shirt.

  “I took the liberty of picking up your board for you,” he said.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she admitted.

  Brady slung his free arm over her shoulders. “You’ll love it so much you’ll be looking for a way to squeeze this board into your car when you leave town.”

  Kate tried to imagine the surfboard sticking out of her car as she waved goodbye to Cape Pursuit, but she couldn’t complete the image in her mind.

  They stopped at the rental shack on the beach and Brady rented a board for one hour. His was a scarred, serviceable-looking board with most of the painted design rubbed off and a chip at one end. The ankle strap was frayed. Kate’s new board was shiny and colorful, untested.

  Brady laid both boards on the sand near the water’s edge. “Just stand on it for a minute,” he said. “Get the feel of it while you’re on solid ground.”

  Kate hesitated, unsure how that would help. She already knew how to stand on a nonmoving surface.

  “Trust me,” Brady encouraged.

  Kate stepped onto the board and the added inches brought her height closer to Brady’s as he stood right in front of her. She was getting used to the feelings of attraction that wouldn’t let go of her when she was with Brady, but the feeling that surprised her as she stood on the board on the beach was that of freedom. Even with Brady standing guard with a steadying hand, she felt weightless and unfettered. Was it the unexpected win of a surfboard that would allow her to glide over the waves, or was it something about having Brady there to catch her if she fell?

  She took a deep breath and wished she could put into words what she was feeling, even though it would be far riskier than putting herself at the mercy of the Atlantic Ocean.

  “Now or never?” Brady asked. “Let’s paddle out.”

 
“And then what?” she asked. Wasn’t there going to be more instruction? She couldn’t just go out there and start surfing.

  “We’ll go out and wait,” he said. “Surfing takes patience while you keep your eye out for the perfect wave to try to get on top of. I’ll tell you everything I know while we’re hanging out in water above our heads.”

  Kate had spent the past six years relying only on herself, but she followed Brady’s example, put the ankle strap on her leg and entered the surf right behind him, ready to let go for just a little while.

  * * *

  BRADY BOBBED NEXT to Kate about thirty feet from shore. The waves weren’t ideal, and they had to wait in between crests for a good one to attempt. The mid-July evening was hot and humid, but the beach was almost deserted. Most visitors had already had their fill of sun and surf and were showering off in their hotels or going out to enjoy the nightlife of Cape Pursuit. Brady’s idea of a perfect evening was exactly like the one he was having—good company and the hope of catching a good wave.

  At first, Kate was timid, jumping onto her board and moving a little too late each time. He showed her how to be ready and start paddling.

  “How exactly did you learn to surf?” Kate asked.

  “From one of my mother’s longer-lasting boyfriends when we lived for a summer in Virginia Beach.” Things had seemed like they might work out that summer he was fifteen, but when the relationship ended, his idyllic summer did, too. He took a deep breath of ocean air.

  “That was ten years ago, but I still remember my first surfing lesson. You’re doing great, you just have to let go and trust the water. And yourself.”

  Brady hopped on and caught two decent waves, riding them onto the beach. Was Kate watching and taking notes? She always seemed confident and in control, so showing her how to enjoy something outside her comfort zone was, he suspected, something not a lot of people experienced. He paddled back to Kate, who was still floating and waiting, and he laid down on his surfboard, relaxing and bobbing with the small waves.