Dear Mr. Firefighter: The Match Maker Series

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Dear Mr. Firefighter: The Match Maker Series Page 3

by Callahan, Kelli


  “I get to write my first letter! The guy Grace set me up with is interested!” Lola came walking into the living room with a pad in her hand.

  “That’s—great.” I nodded and pursed my lips. “You have fun with that, I’m still working on my job applications.”

  Lola had filled me in on how the matchmaking process worked at What the Heart Wants. Apparently, Grace was quite old-fashioned. She wanted the people that were matched up to write letters to each other instead of just meeting for a date. If they were still interested after exchanging a few letters, then they could have their first date. Surprisingly, she even asked that the couples refrain from engaging in any form of sexual contact for three months after their first date—just to make sure things were headed in the right direction before intimacy complicated things. I wasn’t sure how she would enforce a rule like that, so I had to assume it was more of a suggestion than a requirement.

  “Chloe, your phone is buzzing.” Lola motioned to my cell phone, which was sitting on the table in front of me.

  “Oh.” I leaned to the side to look past my laptop. “I assumed it was your phone—I never get any calls unless it’s you.”

  “Maybe it’s Mr. Firefighter.” She batted her eyes seductively.

  Great, she’s named him. I shouldn’t have told her anything about the guy Grace matched me with.

  “Hello?” I slid my finger across the screen.

  “Hi! Chloe! It’s Grace from What the Heart Wants!” Her voice was quite cheerful.

  “Hey…” I raised an eyebrow, unsure why she was calling.

  “I just met with the gentleman that I matched you with and he’s interested!” She sounded absolutely delighted. “I know you said that you weren’t sure, but I thought I’d give you one more opportunity before I break his heart.”

  “Break his heart?” I chuckled. “He doesn’t even know me.”

  “He’s kind of like you.” She sighed but didn’t lose an ounce of her cheer. “He’s not entirely sure about this either, but he’s willing to give it a shot. I really think you should do the same.”

  “Who is it?” Lola tilted her head and tried to communicate with me without speaking above a whisper.

  “It’s Grace.” I covered the bottom of my phone. “She’s just following up.”

  “Don’t you dare say no!” Lola’s eyes opened wide. “I’ll help you with the letter—please give this a shot.”

  Oh my god…

  “Chloe, are you still there?” I heard a bit of concern in Grace’s voice.

  “Yeah, I’m still here. Sorry.” I exhaled sharply.

  I can’t believe I’m considering this.

  “I have a good feeling about this.” Grace’s cheer returned. “I think you’ll regret it if you don’t give it a shot.”

  “Fine…” I sighed and nodded. “I’ll write him a letter.”

  “Wonderful!” Her cheer turned into extreme excitement. “I’ll let him know that he should expect a letter from you shortly! You can handwrite it and drop it off here, or you can type it and send it to me by email—your choice!”

  “Okay.” I sighed again. “It looks like Lola is going to handwrite hers, so I’ll do the same.”

  “Perfect! I look forward to seeing you again real soon!” She hung up the phone before I could respond.

  “This is so exciting!” Lola hopped up from her seat. “I’ll grab you pen, and we can figure out what you’re going to say. I can work on mine later.”

  “No, hold on.” I held up my hand. “If I’m going to do this, I should probably do it myself.

  “Oh.” She sat back down. “You don’t want my help?”

  “I probably need it, trust me.” I chuckled nervously. “But, if I’m going to write him a letter, I should try to make sure they’re my words, you know?”

  “I guess that makes sense…” Lola’s face twisted into an expression of understanding. “But if you need my help, I’ll be right here—working on my letter.”

  “I need to finish this job application first.” I turned back to my laptop.

  I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to go through with it, but I couldn’t deny that it was an interesting way of meeting someone. Communicating with the guy I had been matched with through letters was a lot safer than just going on a blind date with him. It definitely wasn’t the route someone would take if they were just looking to hook up. That was already an improvement over the guys I had been dating. The age difference was slightly concerning, but I definitely wouldn’t mind a dose of maturity in my dating life—if we ever got past the letter stage.

  “Alright, I got the application sent in.” I closed my laptop after reviewing the rules for my first correspondence with the guy I was matched up with. “I guess I’ll go work on my letter.”

  I went to my bedroom and found some stationary that I had received as a gift at some point, although I couldn’t remember who it was from. I pulled out a sheet of paper, picked up a pen, and stared at the blank page. I really didn’t know how to begin. I hadn’t written anyone a letter in—years. I was probably in middle school when I sent my last one, because once I got a cell phone, that became my only method of communication. I chewed on the tip of the pen and tried to figure out what I was going to say. Finally, I decided to just be honest. Wrapping my thoughts around pretty words and calligraphy was pointless—that wasn’t who I was.

  Dear Mr. Firefighter,

  I hope this letter finds you well. You should know that I didn’t go into the matchmaking agency expecting to actually get matched up with someone. My best friend forced me to go, and I was just trying to get her off my back. If you’re looking for some grand love affair, I’m probably not the girl for you.

  Truthfully, I’m not even sure I believe in love like most people do. It just seems too complicated.

  If you haven’t thrown this letter in the garbage and asked Grace to match you with someone a little more interesting yet, I guess it’s only fair that I tell you a little more about myself.

  “Damn it, this letter is awful.” I aimlessly spoke out loud and stared at the page. “What should I even say about myself? I guess I can be honest… If he doesn’t like the real me, it’s a total waste of my time.”

  My name is Chloe and I’m twenty-three years old. I just graduated from college and I’m looking for my first real job. That takes up most of my time right now. I majored in marketing and I’m hoping to find something in advertising. It won’t be as exciting as fighting fires, but it’s what I’ve always dreamed of doing.

  I mentioned that I’m not sure I believe in love and there is a reason for that. I’ve never really seen it work. It always seems to lead to someone getting a broken heart. My parents loved each other once upon a time, but it didn’t last. My own experiences have been similar.

  Anyway, I guess this is enough for one letter.

  -Chloe

  I stared at the letter for a few minutes after I wrote it. I thought about making some changes or rewriting it, but I realized that what I had written was from the heart. There was no reason to hand him a bouquet of hope when I felt like there really wasn’t much room for it in my life. He might as well know that I was a basket case from the beginning—a girl that had already been ruined by what most people called love. It was complicated and impossible. I certainly didn’t think I was going to find it with some random guy I got matched up with at a dating agency.

  Maybe he won’t even respond. That would make it a lot easier.

  “Okay, I’m done with my letter.” I walked out of my bedroom to find Lola hard at work—on the second page of her letter.

  “I’m still going.” She looked up at me and smiled.

  “What are you doing, telling him your life story?” I chuckled as I took a seat and folded my letter.

  “I figured I should let him know as much about me as I could fit into one letter.” She nodded quickly. “I guess you just hit the highlights?”

  “And the lowlights.” I shrugged. �
��I covered the important stuff.”

  “Let me read it. Maybe I can make some suggestions.” Lola reached across the table.

  “No, like I said before—they’re my words. If he reads them and never responds, then I won’t have to be disappointed later.” I pulled the letter away before she could grab it and immediately sealed the envelope.

  Lola finished her letter and decided to drop them off later that afternoon. Grace had mentioned that some of her clients exchanged letters through a post office box, but I didn’t see any reason to bother with it. We were both local and I didn’t mind her acting as our intermediary. Lola thought that was a good idea as well—it seemed better than constantly checking the mail. I wasn’t sure that I was motivated to keep checking anyway. If Mr. Firefighter never responded to my letter, then it would be a bullet that I dodged.

  It would be better to dodge it completely than to stand in front of it expecting it to go through my heart like Cupid’s arrow—I’ll never be that kind of girl.

  I seriously considered taking the letter and tearing it up several times throughout the day as I walked by the table and saw it sitting next to the one Lola wrote. It was nice to see her so hopeful about the whole situation, but I just couldn’t get rid of the lingering doubt inside me. I was happy and content with my life. I was ready to move on to the next chapter, and I didn’t need a guy to help me write it.

  Maybe he won’t. Maybe he won’t write back at all.

  Earlier that day

  “Hello! It’s very nice to meet you! My name is Grace Graham!” The lady in front of me was practically boiling over with excitement.

  “Cain Stevenson.” I nodded and shook her hand.

  “I won’t take up much of your time.” She started walking towards what appeared to be her office.

  Grace took me through a series of questions and most of them were already keyed into the website, but she felt that it was necessary to double check everything since Abby was the one who made the profile. I had to keep reminding myself that my niece would be disappointed if I got up and walked out before I finished my meeting with Grace. I wouldn’t be able to lie to Abby, and the truth would upset her.

  “Okay, so how does this work?” I leaned back in my chair after Grace verified all of my information.

  “Well, my agency usually tries to cater the experience to the individual—or couple, depending on where we’re at in the process.” She nodded and reached for a cup of coffee that was sitting on an application.

  “I saw your rules. They’re interesting.” I scoffed, remembering the one about avoiding sex for three months after the first date.

  “Obviously, I can’t hold you to the rules once you meet the girl you’ve been matched with, but a lot of people who have turned that first date into a lifelong romance will swear by them.” She sipped her coffee and sat it down.

  “I’ll keep them in mind.” I grunted and shrugged. “I don’t even know if I want to meet this girl.”

  “You’ll have some time to correspond with her before you need to make a decision about a date. I am a fan of letters. I think that it’s a good way for people to open themselves up a little bit without the butterflies that come with meeting someone for the first time.” She nodded quickly. “In your case, I think it would be best for the girl that you’ve been matched with to write a letter—you read it—and then if you want, you can write her back.”

  “Interesting…” I scratched my chin in contemplation. “She looked kind of young in her picture. I’m no cradle robber.”

  “She’s definitely younger than you, but I think she needs someone with a little more maturity than the guys she’s been dating.” Grace reached for her coffee again.

  “What about me?” I raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Is this all about the girl, or are you taking what I want into consideration?”

  “It’s less about want and more about need. You’d probably be happy with a woman your age, but Chloe is unique. I don’t think age will be a factor because I believe that both of you are searching for the same thing.” She nodded again.

  So, her name is Chloe.

  “I don’t know that I’m really searching.” I chuckled under my breath. “I wouldn’t even be here if my niece didn’t stick her nose where it didn’t belong.”

  “I think she did you a favor.” Grace smiled warmly. “I’ll let you know when I get Chloe’s letter.”

  “Alright…” I shrugged. “I guess there’s no harm in reading it.”

  I finished up with Grace and headed to the gym. My job required me to work twenty-four hours on, forty-eight hours off, so I had to get my workouts in when I could. I would have another night of helping Abby with her homework after I got back home, and I’d have to hope she could fend for herself the next day when I was at work. I had contemplated trying to find something with a more traditional schedule for her sake, but I really did like being able to help people, and there weren’t many jobs that offered those opportunities. I considered law enforcement after I left the Navy, but I had enough violence in my nightmares to last a lifetime.

  After I finished up at the gym, I took care of a few errands, grabbed some groceries, and when I got back home, I had a text message from Grace. My letter had arrived. I wasn’t expecting to get one that quickly. I considered waiting until the next day and picking it up on my way to work, but I did have a bit of curiosity about the young woman Grace matched me with. If nothing else, the letter might confirm that we weren’t a good match and I could let Abby know it wasn’t going to work out.

  Then I can have Grace remove my profile from her system and put this ordeal behind me.

  * * *

  Later that night

  “What’s that?” Bridget walked into the living room after putting Abby to bed.

  “It’s my letter—from the young woman I got matched with. Her name is Chloe.” I folded the letter and put it back into the envelope.

  “What? Why didn’t you tell Abby?” Bridget sighed as she sat down across from me. “She would have been so excited. You saw how happy she was when you told her that you actually went down to the agency.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I shrugged and stared at the letter. “I’m just not sure…”

  “You have to write her back.” Bridget nodded quickly. “She took the time to write you—the least you can do is respond.”

  “She’s twenty-three.” I raised an eyebrow.

  “A younger chick, huh?” Bridget chuckled and shrugged. “Age is just a number, Cain. You shouldn’t let that bother you too much.”

  “I’m not too hung up on that, but—she doesn’t sound like she’s very interested in a relationship. Her friend forced her to sign up for the matchmaking service and she’s had bad experiences in the past.” I sighed and shook my head.

  “It sounds like you two might be a match.” Bridget grinned. “Maybe you could be miserable together.”

  “Maybe…” I leaned back in my chair. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to write her back.”

  Bridget went outside for her nightly dose of herbal relaxation and after she came back in, we watched television for a little while before she called it a night. I read through Chloe’s letter a few more times and decided to go ahead and start working on my response. I retired to my bedroom with a pen and a piece of paper. I stared at it for several minutes, trying to figure out what I should say. I finally decided to try and be as truthful as Chloe was. If we were ever going to become more than pen pals, she deserved to know what she was getting into.

  Dear Chloe,

  Thank you for your letter. My name is Cain and I’m thirty-five years old. I graduated from high school, joined the Navy, took advantage of an opportunity to join the SEAL team after serving on a ship for a couple of years, and then I became a firefighter after I returned to civilian life. I’m proud of what I did to serve my country, but it wasn’t my real calling.

  Surprisingly, we had a similar route to What the Heart Wants. I would have never gone there on my ow
n, but my ten year old niece decided to sign me up without my knowledge. She’s kind of become my whole world since I returned to civilian life, and it’s hard to disappoint her, even if it requires me to do something outside of my comfort zone.

  I don’t know if I’m as jaded as you when it comes to love, but a relationship was the last thing I was looking for when I got Grace’s call. I’m not opposed to love, nor do I believe it’s impossible, but I know that I’m a complicated person. Real love requires work and absolute devotion from both people, and that doesn’t seem to be in our nature as human beings anymore. Too many people take the easy way out when their fairy tale ending hits a few bumps. I can’t imagine putting that much work into something, sharing everything with another person, and then walking away because it stopped being easy. That makes it hard for me to trust, and trust is everything.

  I hope things are going well with your job hunt. If you’d like to write me again, I’d love to know more about you. I don’t know if this is going to lead to anything, but Abby would be very disappointed if I didn’t try.

  -Cain

  I stared at the letter and decided to seal it up before I changed my mind. I shared more than I normally would, especially with someone I just met. Writing it out seemed to be a lot easier than actually saying the words. Chloe had been open and honest about her feelings, so I figured it was best to give her a glimpse of who I was as well. We had different reasons for the hesitation that kept us from finding someone, but there were definitely some similarities.

  If she doesn’t write me back, I won’t have to feel guilty when I tell Abby it didn’t work out.

  I laid down in bed and my mind started to wander. Chloe might have been younger than me, but she had felt heartbreak before. It seemed like it made her stronger, even if it did leave her with a lot of hesitation when it came to love. It was possible that her experiences would make her value a relationship like I did, if we ever got to that point. Trust would never be easy for me. That was more complicated than just giving away my heart—that was severing a piece of my soul and putting it in another person’s hands—while hoping they didn’t crush it.

 

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