by Amy Briggs
Matt made it really clear that he didn’t want to be in the middle of it, that he would not tell me exactly what Brian said, and that if I wanted to know, I had to ask him myself. That’s just not happening.
When I left the bar, I told Matt I’d think about it and I apologized for putting him in the middle. I didn’t want to do that, it was not my intent, but he was glad that I shared with him what was going on; at least the PG rated stuff. Now, I have two days off if Jonah, the guy that always wants extra hours takes my last shift at 19. Then, we’ll see what happens. After all of this, maybe it’s just better to stay friends with Brian anyway. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t be friends with a man who fulfills every fantasy I’ve ever had in my life. Fuck. This sucks.
I sat at my dad’s desk for a while going through his stuff when I got home. These notebooks are everywhere. My dad had some journals in his bedroom as well, but I wasn’t ready to go through those, and he kept them hidden, I knew they were personal. I was tired. I was tired of thinking about Brian, tired of being angry at Danny, tired of being sad in general.
I happened upon a shoebox in my dad’s bottom desk drawer and pulled it out. It looked like he was in and out of it a lot because it had worn corners, but I don’t ever remember seeing it. I pulled it out and sat it on the desk, taking the lid off carefully. Inside, was a stack of envelopes, mostly a soft pink color. As I looked through them gingerly, they all had my dad’s name written on them, “Jack” in lovely cursive, definitely a woman’s handwriting.
Suddenly, I felt like I was snooping, and I even looked around to make sure nobody was watching. I took the box over to the couch, and opened the letter on top that was dated two weeks ago.
My Dearest Jack,
I so love that after all these years, we continue to write these beautiful letters to each other. Even though I see your sweet face grace my home often, it still tickles me each time I receive one of your letters. I look forward to seeing you on Wednesday, I’ve been thinking about what you said regarding telling the kids about our relationship, and you’ve worn me down. We’ll tell them next week, and then you must get Jo to come back to the firehouse. Then the family will all be together. See you soon, sweetheart.
Love Always,
Your Catherine
I looked around again. Is this real life? It is real life. Brian and Matt’s mom, and my dad were in a relationship? I’m not even mad, but man, am I shocked. I think we all kind of suspected it, but this was actual proof. My heart was racing, and I wanted to tell someone about this, but I didn’t even know where to begin. I couldn’t call Matt, this is just too crazy and it’s been a rough night of talking to him. I immediately picked up my phone to call my dad, then realized I couldn’t. I slumped over and felt tears forming.
My dad and I were so close; I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do without him. He used to let me tag along with him no matter what he was doing my whole life. I never felt like I was in his way, and I could talk to him about anything. When I found out what was going on with Danny behind my back, I was so embarrassed, and so angry. I went to talk to my dad at his office about it and he never made me feel bad or stupid about it ever.
Jo, some people will never deserve the love that’s in your heart. Don’t let it stop you from loving again, he said to me.
I feel so stupid, Dad. I know it moved too quickly, and I just think I wanted to find someone. I was ready, ya know?
I had been crying and he just handed me some tissues from across his desk and kept going. The man that deserves your heart is out there, hell you might already know him. You just keep being you. The strong, stubborn, hard worker that you are. You’re just like your mother, Jo, and she’d be just as proud of you as I am. Don’t let the actions of one fool change who you are.
We lived together, Dad. What do I do now?
That seems like a silly question. You come back home.
Dad, I’m too old to come back home. I rolled my eyes at him.
You’re not too old to take care of your old father. We both know I eat like shit, so you can help keep me on track while you regroup. You work too many different places, and could use some stability Jo. Maybe this is the man upstairs’ way of telling you to take a breather and rethink your strategy. It’s no different than on a fire sweetheart. Sometimes if something isn’t working, we need to back out and figure out a new plan. So, come home and figure out a new plan.
He was kind of right. Who was I kidding, he was totally right. Okay, Dad, thank you. It’s just temporary though, while I regroup.
Of course, just temporary. He winked at me.
No, seriously. I rolled my eyes at him again.
Oh settle down, he laughed. Stay as long as you want. It’ll be nice having you around, I absolutely hate texting you, now I can actually just talk to you.
Seriously, Dad, you have got to get with the technology.
Yeah yeah, that’s what you say. I like pen and paper best of all and I always will.
He sure did like pen and paper best of all. Between his notebooks, the journals I found in his room that I hadn’t read yet, and these letters, he was a true old fashioned guy. It was actually one of the things I always loved about him, was his sense of tradition, coupled with his progressive attitude about me pursuing my goals. He was one of a kind.
I brushed my fingers over the date on the soft pink paper. This letter was sent two weeks ago. They were going to discuss telling the kids, who must be me, Brian and Matt, on Wednesday. That means that…my dad died the day before they were going to talk about all of this. Tears started rolling down my face. Over the next several hours, I sat on the floor in the living room, reading all of the letters, dated as far back as fifteen years ago, when they started writing.
There were letters that detailed their feelings, apologies for misunderstandings. These were genuine, old fashioned love letters. They were brief reminders of occasions and moments that they shared. It seemed that they had dinner together once a week, and they sometimes did other things. They enjoyed walking together out by the lake. I felt even closer to my dad after reading them.
After reading for hours, I gathered that they had been in love for years. They'd been intimate in every way. There were no details thankfully, but it was implied that they shared several overnights together over the years, and it was also clear that my dad had initiated this old fashioned tradition between them several years after my mom died, which was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard in my life.
I cried for them. I cried for their secret love that they didn’t share with the world. I cried over the guilt I felt that they kept their love a secret from us kids. We’d been adults for so long, I felt ashamed that they were afraid of our reaction to it.
Then, I realized the loss that Catherine must have been feeling. I felt so terrible that she had to keep this secret that I was almost ashamed of myself. I assumed that I must have done or said something somewhere that made them feel like they had to keep a secret from me, and this brought the weight of guilt upon me. I truly would have loved for my father to find love, no matter who it was with. I’ve always been in love with love. The daydream of being in love always brought a smile to my face. Even just the fantasy of it as a teenager used to make me feel so enthusiastic about finding the boy I was going to marry. I didn’t really remember my mom. My dad talked about her a lot, it was important to him that I knew who she was, so I knew where I came from, but I didn’t miss her like I missed my dad. It was just different.
I needed to take these letters to Catherine; they belonged to her. I decided that I’d go see her the next day, I hadn’t seen her since my dad’s funeral, and she was the closest thing to a mom I’d ever had. She was always making us snacks, and letting us climb the trees in her yard. She used to yell at us for getting into trouble, and said we’d give her a heart attack one day with our shenanigans. Oh, man, if only she knew the shenanigans of the last week or so. I'd skip the confessions this trip, and give her the letters, she deserve
d to have them.
I went to bed that night feeling like I knew a part of my dad now that I didn’t know even existed. But, I was also so empty inside. Sad that I didn’t have someone I could talk to. Sad they felt they had to keep a secret from us. Brian would have loved to see these letters, maybe his mom will show him and Matt. That would be up to her, I feel like I’ve spied on something very private, and it’s not my secret to reveal. And it’s not like we’re speaking anyway. I’d give her the letters and apologize for reading them all. Until then, I was praying for just one decent night’s sleep where I didn’t have the same nightmare I’d been having for days. I didn’t understand it, but I’d been dreaming of Brian rescuing me from a fire. It’s the same dream over and over again, and I wake up sweating and crying in the middle of the night every time.
Today I’m just aggravated. I'm spending my entire day trying not to think about Jo, and she’s the only thing on my mind. I feel sick and weak, I kind of want to cry, and it’s all because of her. How the fuck did I get here? To the place where I’m now just a pussy that couldn’t have the girl. I knew she was worth it, but the waiting to take action was literally killing me.
I was driving around doing bullshit errands on my day off. I reminded myself of the plan; reaching down to my glovebox and taking out the box my mom gave me. I held it in my hands, and thought about my future. How I didn’t want one without her, how every image I have of myself in the future includes her now. I also thought about how this ring, was given to my mother from Jack. It was a silver Claddagh ring, very simple, no stones. The Claddagh is a traditional Irish ring which represents love, loyalty, and friendship. It is two hands representing friendship, holding a heart for love, topped by a crown symbolizing loyalty.
I didn’t ask her for details, I knew it was none of my business, but for my mom to encourage me to give it to Jo, says so much about how close she and Jack were. They were in love. I wondered why they didn’t just tell us; we were all adults so it’s not like we were going to be angry little kids. I’d have to ask my mom about it eventually; it really makes me sad that she felt she had to keep it from us. Jack too, he was a good man, he deserved to be happy. He was the kind of guy you would be okay with dating your mom.
As I drove around thinking about not thinking, I decided to go to the firehouse. I had an absolute shitload of paperwork to do. Normally when someone becomes Chief, there’s a transition, a period of time where you work together on things and kind of do a handoff of responsibilities. That obviously didn’t happen here, and it didn’t seem like the district was in any big hurry to make things official one way or the other. It was frustrating to me that there had been no talk of any official announcement yet, even though they had appointed me to the position immediately two weeks ago.
Being the Chief was a lot of work, and I wasn’t even sure that I really wanted the job right now. I always knew that I would eventually become Chief, it was my goal to be Chief someday, but it’s a little early in my career to not fight fire anymore. I wasn’t totally in love with being the Deputy Chief before any of this happened. The higher your rank in a mid to large sized department, the less actual fire you got to fight. The fewer accidents you worked on. You became the white hat dick at the top of the chain, and it wasn’t as glamorous as many would think. People become firefighters because they want to fight fire, they want to save lives and make a difference. Nobody ever said, I can’t wait to be a Fire Chief and sit behind a desk listening to other people’s shit and doing budgets and schedules all day.
That didn’t stop the need to submit the budget which would be due soon, and was extremely critical in terms of getting the gear and tools we needed replaced, as well as funding for some advanced training we were hoping to attend this year.
Jack had his own system, he had been the Chief for so long, I knew some of it, but certainly didn’t comprehend his personal filing system, and I’m not sure what he kept electronically or not. Jack wasn’t a lover of his smartphone or his computer for that matter, however he did believe that a progressive department technologically, as well as training wise was a sustainable model for a fire department, and he was committed to transitioning us to things like electronic maps in the trucks on tablets, and other 21st century treats for a department. The only way to have those things though was to include them in your budget requests, nothing is free, and budgets were consistently getting cut year over year, even though it was getting more and more expensive to maintain equipment and keep up with the ever evolving technologies.
When I pulled into the station, I saw that Jax was there. It was his day off too, so I went looking for him to see what he was up to. Jax was kind of a quiet guy, he went to high school with us, he was actually in my graduating class, but he didn’t join the department until he got back from two tours with the marines. He was infantry, so he probably saw some shit, but he really never talked about it with any of us. Always cool, he never got mad at the dumb petty shit that can happen when you spend twenty-four hour clips together.
I found him in the computer room reading some stuff on the internet, not unusual for him. “Hey, man, what’s happening?” I asked.
He looked up from the screen at me. “I was just reading about these new flat airpacks that allow you ‘theoretically’ to get in and out of a confined space more easily. I’m not convinced they’re any better than what we have, and you know how I love new shit.” He smiled. He really did love to ask for the newest and hottest thing in fire suppression, and it was usually really expensive too.
I laughed. “Why theoretically?”
“Well, in order to have the same amount of air that a firefighter is used to, while making the pack flat, it seems that they have elongated the whole setup. This means that anyone that isn’t five foot ten or taller is going to have mobility issues with it. So, it’s crap if you ask me. It looks cool though,” he pointed to the screen. It did look pretty cool, but his point was valid.
“So don’t ask me for it in your next wild request then, eh?” I laughed.
“No worries. I was thinking we should get a boat though,” he grinned at me.
“Oh I’m sure you were. None of us even knows how to operate a boat,” I rolled my eyes.
“Scotty knows how to work on anything. Just sayin', a sweet boat would be nice,” he laughed at me. Thank God, he was only half serious.
“Yeah, he sure does, however the only thing we’d do with a boat is tow it in parades, so we’re gonna pass on that for this year. Besides, I need to see where we stand with our current requests, and the budget for next year. That’s what I’m doing here today. What brings you in on your day off besides free internet?” I questioned.
“Basically free internet. Matt and I are going to hit the gym in a little bit, then maybe go out for some drinks and look for some ladies. You should join us. You’ve been kind of crabby lately, man. Maybe you should get some ass,” he chuckled.
The thought of any ass except Jo’s turned my stomach. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the local bar and pick up hose whores. All I wanted to do was to come home to her, kiss her, talk about our days, and make love—yes, make love—to her every night.
“I’m gonna pass, you two have your fun, may the odds be in your favor. I’m actually going to try to get through some of Jack’s stuff and figure out what we can afford for next year before they decide to bring in some new asshole as Chief and tell all of us what they’re going to give us from behind a desk,” I replied.
The real fact of the matter is that the district could be taking their time because they’re screening other potential Chiefs. They could decide to move someone from another station to be our Chief leaving all of us with a new boss. That would suck, mostly because we have such a great team, and a great camaraderie, a stranger would really put a kink in that. Even if I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do in terms of my own career advancement, it was better for my guys, and our team if I did the work now without ruffling feathers, and then figured out what I
wanted to do myself along the way.
“Your loss. It’s ladies' night at the Yard.” He went back to reading.
“Have a good time. I’ll catch you later,” I left and went back to my office.
I sat down at Jack’s desk, my desk I guess, and turned the computer on. I hadn’t really had much of a chance to get into the meat and potatoes of the job with everything that had been going on the last two weeks. I started looking through the budget requests for the upcoming year, as well as the expenditures from last year. I already wanted a drink.
Jax needed new gear, his was old and worn, so that was a must in the budget. We already purchased the tablets last year, so we were going to have to get the software that goes on them. It basically told you all of the hydrants and other pertinent information in a location when a call comes in. It’s synced to the paging system, so it already knows the address of the call you’re going to, and this enables the officer in the truck to assist the driver in proper truck placement by hydrants or whatever they may need for a particular call. In the old days, you either had to know already, or you had to look for it when you got there, which takes time. Maybe a few minutes, but a few minutes could save lives. That was definitely going to go in for the upcoming year.
I mulled over some call reports that needed a signature on them. It was our policy to have a senior officer or the Chief review all call reports to ensure they were accurate. After about an hour of that, I was done reviewing the ones that still needed a signature. I closed them up, and decided to poke around on the computer to see what kind of electronic filing system Jack had, if any.
An icon in the lower left corner lit up awhile ago, it was a message that looked like it was synced from someplace else. I opened it, and it was Jack’s text messages, they started popping up from the last two weeks. As I watched it load, I saw messages from myself, from Jo and from several others all pop up. Most of them were over two weeks old of course, but there were several from one number that wasn’t programmed in as a contact, and it seemed like they didn’t know that Jack had died.
