by Ella Roane
I step closer so that I can hug her and kiss her hair. Dealing with family is always stressful at some level. And when it comes to parents, there are always layers of expectations to manage. Her parents haven’t even met me yet, so I can understand their hesitancy. I’d be the same way with my daughter.
When Stella’s mom speaks again, I hear her loud and clear. “What about Todd?”
Ouch!
Stella had warned me that that question would probably come up eventually, still… Hearing it does hurt. But that’s okay. It just means I’ve got to prove myself to them. Prove that I’m the man who will dedicate himself to making Stella happy for the rest of my life.
“Mom, we’ve talked about this,” Stella whispers into the phone while doing a rolling turn out of my arms. Her absence makes me feel like a huge segment of myself has suddenly been cut away. My mind fills it in with a life-size cardboard cutout of Todd. My knuckles itch to shove my hand through his face. I don’t even know the guy, yet it feels as though he has woven himself through every aspect of my life—because those are the remnants he’s left behind in Stella’s life. Now that her life is my own, I’m having to deal with him, too. I’ll be happy—and relieved—when he’s gone. Completely gone.
I glance at my watch. I’m almost late for my shift at the firehouse. I’ve got to go.
I catch Stella’s eye, then hook a thumb over my shoulder to let her know I need to head out. Stella drops the phone atop a nearby box and rushes me, slamming her luscious, beautiful body against mine. Her mother’s voice is a muddled, distant murmur, growing all the more distant as I stare down into Stella’s heavenly face.
“I’m going to miss you!” Stella says before bouncing up on her toes to plant a kiss on my lips.
“I’m gonna miss you too, baby,” I tell her, and I mean it. My shift at the firehouse will be forty-eight hours long. Of course, it’s followed by ninety-six hours—four days—off after that, but Stella will be dealing with three twelve-hour shifts during those same four days. Getting the chance to spend quality time together will be a challenge with our combined schedules, but I know we’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes. She’s worth it.
We’re worth it.
Chapter 21
Stella
“A-ha, we’re moving out to his place,” I tell Mom. “He’s got a cabin next to the national forest reserve. I’ll finally get to have a dog!”
“But are you sure, honey? You and this guy only just met. You were with Todd for years! The two of you were so good with each other.”
Hearing the distress in my mother’s voice twists knots in my stomach, but I must hold to what I know is true. “Mom, I’m sure. Brad’s the one for me. And, you’re right. Todd and I were together for years. We had plenty of time to get to where I am now with Brad—but we never did. We just weren’t meant to be, not in terms of a happily ever after or anything like that.”
I put the phone on speaker and set it down on one of the boxes so that I can start taping the top of another box closed.
“Oh, honey, the two of you hadn’t gotten there yet because you were still so young.”
Mom was a little bit right. We were young, but we weren’t that young by the time things ended. Not anymore. But we’d stopped growing as a couple. I’d made the right decision in ending things.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Somebody’s here, Mom. I need to go,” I tell her, but she doesn’t listen. She just rambles on full steam, so I pick up my phone and take it with me to the door. I hurry. Brad’s always forgetting his key to the apartment, and if he’s had to come back for something, he’s going to be in a real rush to try to make it to work on time. But when I open the door, it’s not Brad I see. It’s Todd, and he looks awful. I mean really, really awful. His complexion is pasty pale, his eyes are wide, he’s slightly out of breath, and his hand shakes as he lifts his phone’s face so that I can see it. There, he has a text from my mom. It says, “Stella’s getting married to some guy named Bruce.” Mom hadn’t even gotten Brad’s name right.
“Is it true?” Todd asks. There’s a pained desperation in his eyes, a need for it not to be true.
I wish I could spare him the hurt of what he’s going through, but I can’t. I have to live my own life. I have to move forward. And that means a life without him, at least not in the way we’d imagined when we were kids.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, doing nothing to hide the sarcasm from my voice before hanging up the call. Somehow my mom had managed to send Todd the text during the course of our conversation. This is the same woman who has trouble sending an email to more than one person at a time. All I can say is, she got real tech savvy when it suited her.
“Is it true?” Todd asks again, this time turning his phone’s face so that he can look at it himself.
“I’m sorry, Todd.” I pause. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” Actually, I’m not sure how I wanted him to find out. I’ve been avoiding telling him. I knew he’d be crushed, and I didn’t want to do that to him. We might not be together anymore, but I still care about Todd. He has become a part of who I am at my very core, and to deny that would simply be lying to myself.
“You just met him,” Todd says, shifting to focus on me instead of his phone. There are tears in his eyes.
My throat constricts, and I fight against my own tears.
“I’m sorry, Todd. I am.” My voice is thick with emotion.
Todd’s mouth tightens and his shoulders square. He digs a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. When he pulls it out, he drops to one knee and holds up a ring.
I gasp but not because of Todd’s attempt to win me back. I gasp because of the ring he’s holding up. It’s a gold band with a lustrous pearl surrounded by tiny, sparkling diamonds. It had been my grandma Nora’s.
“I love you, Stella. I will always give you the best of who I am and listen to you when you say I need to be better. You’re my everything. Life only makes sense when I think about it with you in it, but that’s not why I want to marry you. I want to marry you because you’re my heart. I have never loved anyone more than you and have never been loved by anyone more than you. Stella, will you marry me?”
I’m still stunned at seeing the ring. “How?” I ask, lifting it from his fingers.
“It was your mom. She gave it to me a week after we broke up.”
“After?” That doesn’t make any sense.
“She told me to win you back, and I promised I would.”
“Todd,” I say, reaching for his hands and guiding him to stand. “I can’t marry you just because you made a promise to my mother.”
“Marry me. Don’t marry me. I don’t care. Please, just spend your life with me. Let me devote myself to you. Let me be the one who loves you and is there for you. I know you better than him, Stell. I’ve known you so much longer. I love you more than he does.”
I shake my hands free of his and fold my arms over my chest. I can feel the scowl that’s pulling down on my face. “And who do I love more? You or him?” I shoot back.
Direct hit.
I hate to know this about myself, but it gives me some satisfaction that my words hurt Todd. He’s being an arrogant jerk if he thinks he can tell me who loves me more without him even knowing Brad. But when I close the door on him and head back inside, I don’t feel like a winner. In fact, I’m miserable. With nobody there, I can let my guard down. I sit heavily on the floor with my back against my moving boxes. Then, I hang my head and cry.
“He didn’t!” Marcus exclaims.
We’re sitting in the cab of our EMS truck, counting down the hours of the second half of our shift. We had nonstop calls during the first half, but now things are quiet.
“He did,” I say.
Marcus scowls. “You were so mean…”
I slump in my seat. My shoulders hang, and my head feels heavy. “I was.” I’ve got no defense for it other than that Todd hadn’t been the only one trying to function through a tsunami of
emotions.
“What are you going to do?” Marcus asks.
My head snaps up. “About what?”
“Todd!” Marcus says, throwing his hands into the air.
“There is no Todd!” Saying that makes my heart hurt. But there is no other way forward. There is a me-and-Brad. There is not a me-and-Todd. That truth hurts, but it’s still the truth.
Marcus falls silent and looks away. The quiet drags, but he finally turns back and says, “What if—”
But that’s as far as he gets before being interrupted by the squawk of our EMS truck’s radio.
“Fire at abandoned gum factory at end of Fulton Road. Fire Department on scene. EMS backup requested.”
My heart stops.
“Isn’t that the sector Brad’s firehouse covers?” Marcus asks.
I nod. It’s the most I can do.
“I’ll drive,” Marcus says. “You strap in and remember to breathe.”
Chapter 22
Brad
“Bowman,” I call into my radio transmitter to identify myself. “Entering third-floor.” Old buildings like this are a death trap for firefighters. If the fire doesn’t get you, the rotting floorboards will.
The chief’s voice crackles over the radio, verifying the information I’ve just relayed. “Make it fast,” he adds. “The fire’s climbing.”
The stairwell is clear, but it won’t be for long. I could have anywhere from minutes… to seconds.
I step forward to view the hallway spanning left and right. A team has just finished checking all the rooms down the left side, so I go to the right. I break into a jog when I see Jackson step backward out through a doorway and wave his hand. I get there to find an old man with a hunched back standing in the far corner of the room with his arms lifted in the air like a referee calling goal. His desperate and anguished face is turned up to stare at the ceiling. The old fellow’s a squatter. The bed shaped pile of newspapers plus other items make it clear that this derelict building is his home.
“He won’t leave,” Jackson yells loud enough for me to hear.
“Why?” The old man is about to lose everything in a world where he has nothing else, but if he doesn’t’ leave, he won’t even have a world. The fire will scrub it and him from existence.
Jackson shrugs his shoulders and gives me an I-don’t-know head shake with lifted eyebrows.
I turn my attention back to the old man, then to where he’s staring. That’s when I see it. A little furry head peeking out from a hole in the drop-tile ceiling. I’m pretty sure it’s a cat.
I start toward the old man, but as soon as I do, the cat looks my way and then disappears back into the ceiling.
“Please help me,” the old man cries. I can see the tears in his eyes even from here. “He’s my best friend. I can’t leave him. Please don’t make me.” The old man’s knees are trembling so bad they’re knocking together and his uplifted arms are shaking. He’s giving saving his cat all he’s got, and he’s not backing down.
I respect that. I have to help.
“Grab the old man and go?” Jackson asks.
I shake my head no. This is one of those moments I’ll remember for the rest of my life. If I fail to help him save his cat, I’ll be haunted by it. If I succeed, happy dreams and restful sleep will be in my future—and I’m a man who likes his sleep.
“We get the man his cat,” I say.
“How?” Jackson looks torn. I see it in his eyes and his stance. Half his body wants to rush the old man; half his body is waiting to listen to me.
I glance around the room, then at the ceiling right above me. It’s the same drop-tile ceiling that’s above the old man.
I look at Jackson, then hook my thumb upward. “Give me a boost. Come on.”
I head for the building’s outer wall. There’s a large window with a deep windowsill. I put a foot on the sill and a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, then hoist myself up. I lift the ceiling tile away and scoot it to the side with my free hand before securing a hold on the drop tile’s steel frame.
Movement to my side catches my attention. It’s a person’s face, and they’re staring back at me, except this person is on the outside of the building looking in through the window.
“What the…” I don’t recognize the guy, and I have no idea how the hell he’s clinging to the side of the building. He’s wearing regular clothes. He’s not a fireman, and he’s not wearing any climbing gear.
We’re staring at each other, frozen.
I blink. It’s enough to break the spell.
The guy outside looks up the side of the building, shifts his whole body with a hop, then climbs right out of view. The last thing I see is his foot as it disappears from sight at the top of the window.
My hands are full from holding onto the ceiling’s edge. Jackson is busy steadying me and doesn’t give any indication that he spotted the climber. Regardless, there’s nothing I can do, so I focus on saving the old man’s cat.
I hoist myself higher so that my head goes inside the drop ceiling. It’s too dark to see anything.
“Flashlight,” I call down to Jackson, and he passes his up. I click the flashlight on, and it floods the space with light. A quick sweep lands the light’s focus squarely on the cat, which blinks against the sudden intense brightness. “Time for you to go, buddy,” I call. The cat doesn’t budge. I slap at the inside of the ceiling to no effect, but when I grab the dislodged tile and Frisbee throw it in the cat’s direction, the animal does a crouching run straight for the hole above the old man. This time it doesn’t hesitate at the opening’s edge but instead disappears immediately out of sight.
I duck my head back out of the ceiling. Sure enough, the old man has the cat in his arms. He tucks it under his shirt and then cradles it in place. The cat sticks its head through the stretched-out neck of the old man’s well-worn sweatshirt.
I hop down from the windowsill and then freeze again. Yet another climber is staring back at me, but this one I know. It’s Todd!
We stare at each other for half a second before he continues his climb. Just like the guy before him, he’s not wearing any climbing equipment whatsoever. Somehow, they are scaling the rough, brick wall of the building without any assistance.
“We got climbers on the south wall,” I call into my radio.
Radio silence follows, then my chief’s voice comes through. “We’ve spotted them. We’ll get the crane on it. You guys need to vacate now. The stairwell is clear but won’t be for long.”
The chief’s orders are clear. But I have to do what my conscience can live with.
I try to open the window, but it’s jammed. I bust the pane of glass out with the butt end of the small ax I carry beneath my jacket. I run its wood stock around the edge of the window frame to clear it of glass shards. Once clear, I stick my head through and then twist so that I can look up the side of the building. I can see Todd, and I can see the climber above Todd. They’re getting close to the rooftop.
“Todd!” I hold my breath when his body freezes, and he shifts in order to look down at me, hanging on with nothing more than toes and fingertips. But he doesn’t fall. In fact, he looks stable as a rock. “What are you doing?” I yell.
Todd looks about to answer but the window below me explodes outward. A plume of black, hot, acrid smoke rolls up the side of the building to engulf both the two climbers and me.
Being careful not to breathe any of the noxious fumes, I duck my head back inside the building and take a few steps back from the now shattered window. Thankfully, the smoke’s path takes it up the side of the building and very little of it drifts in through the broken window.
“Get them out of here,” I tell Jackson with a nod to the old man and his cat.
“What about you?” Jackson asks.
“I’m heading for the roof.”
It takes breaking open two locked doors and ripping a hole through a wall to get there, but I make it. I find the first climber already there when I burst through
the roof’s door. He’s waving celebratory arms in the air and whooping like a damn idiot while sure-footedly pacing back and forth on the building’s narrow ledge.
I turn my attention to the spot where Todd should be appearing over the edge, but he’s not there. Fear hits me like a Mack truck, but I ignore it. I compartmentalize it. I don’t have time for that right now. But then Todd’s arm appears over the wall’s edge and his hand slaps down, anchoring his hold on the top of the building. I take a step toward him to help him up, but I needn’t have bothered. He’s all the way up and standing on the ledge before I take three steps.
“Skip, you’ve done it. You’ve made your point. Now let’s go!” Todd yells at the other climber.
“You’re history, old man! You’re washed up! You’re a has-been, and now everybody will know!” Skip yells back at him.
“Fine!” Todd yells, throwing his arms into the air. “I’m a has-been, now let’s go!”
“No! Not until the cameras get here. The world needs to know that it’s me, that I’m the new breed of risk taker. Climbing a burning building! I’ll be a legend!” He slaps his hands on his chest, emphasizing his words. “I’m the one to watch!”
I see movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to look. The roof has a slight dip in it that’s deepening. “We don’t have time for cameras,” I yell at Todd and Skip. “We have to go!”
As if on cue, my radio squawks. The voice of one of my fellow firefighters sounds over it. “Stairwell lost! No longer passable.”
I hear my chief next. “Bowman! Check-in!”
Fast steps take me to the roof’s edge, and I look over. We’re four stories up.
I press the button on my radio. I say one word. “Mayday.”
“Location?” Chief barks.
“Roof,” I respond. “With the two climbers. There’s buckling,” I tell him, letting him know that the fire has started to impair the integrity of the roof’s structure. It’s about to collapse, and when it does, we will be standing at the edge of the pit of hell.
