by Amy DeMeritt
“You’re pretty damn smart. Did you go to college?”
“I did. I majored in psychology.”
Ashton laughs hard, earning her a beautiful proud smile. “Damn, yet another woman in my life who’s way too good for me. Thanks for helping me today. Do you want a drink while we wait for Gloria?”
Gloria quickly and quietly walks to the front of the apartment and slips out of the door unheard by Ashton and Skylar.
As she starts to button Ashton’s shirt for her, Skylar nods, saying, “Yeah, I’m a little thirsty.” She stops buttoning just at the top of Ashton’s sports bra, then tugs the bottom of the shirt down to smooth it out and smiles. “This looks really good on you. Gloria doesn’t like this shirt on you?”
“Well, Gloria likes most of my clothes as individual articles, but she doesn’t always like how I pair them together. She’s a complicated woman.” She grabs her cellphone and wallet off of her long chest of drawers and hands Skylar her purse. “Can I ask you something now?”
“Yes.”
While they walk out of the bedroom and out to the kitchen, Ashton asks, “How are you available in the middle of the day to apartment hunt?”
“You mean, why am I not at work?”
“Yeah. Here,” she opens the fridge, “take a look and see if there’s something in here you want to drink. I can also make coffee, tea, or cocoa if you want something hot.”
“Tea actually sounds really good.”
“Do you drink it English or American style?”
Skylar pinches her brow, and asks with a grin, “What’s the difference?”
“The English drink tea with milk and sugar and American’s drink it plain or with lemon and sugar or honey.”
“I must admit I have never had tea with milk.”
“It’s time to correct that.” She turns to grab two mugs out of the cabinet. “Can you grab that bottle of milk out of there?”
Skylar grabs the fresh unopened bottle and sets it on the counter. She leans back to get out of Ashton’s way as she reaches out to another cabinet to grab a box of tea bags.
“How sweet do you like your tea?”
“Two teaspoons of sugar.”
Ashton measures the sugar and cream into both mugs, then fills a kettle with water.
“So, work?”
“I’m a contractor for the company I work for and they let me set my own hours. Most days I get up pretty early to get through emails and voicemails, then I take off to do whatever I need to for a few hours in the early afternoon. Then I get back to work around three and work till six to seven on selling new insurance policies. Some days I just work straight through. It just depends on what I need to focus on and what I want to do in the evenings.”
“It must be nice to set your own hours. So, as a contractor, does that mean you work from home?”
“I do. It was a couple of days before I could get back to work because I lost everything in the fire and had to go buy all new equipment. The internet at my parents’ house isn’t as fast as what I had, so that has been making things a little more difficult.”
“Speaking of your parents – how do they feel about you hanging out with me?”
Skylar’s brow furrows, and she asks, “Why would they have a problem with it? You saved my life. I mean, you seriously did the impossible to get me out of there. You were incredible.”
Ashton smiles as she shakes her head and walks to the stove to lift the whistling kettle off of the burner. “I’m twice your age. I’m basically your parents age.”
“And, what’s your point? All of the guys in my uncle’s band are my parents age. Believe it or not, I have more friends your age than I do my own age.”
“Interesting. Why is that?”
Skylar shrugs a shoulder as she accepts a cup of steaming milky tea from Ashton. They walk out to the living room and sit side by side on the couch with only enough room for their elbows between them.
“I had a small tightknit group of friends in high school, but I had a falling out with two of them a couple of years ago. I clicked with a few people in college, but most of the people I talked to or hung out with in college were just acquaintances and we lost touch shortly after graduation. And since I work from home, I don’t have work friends. Most of my friends were neighbors before the fire or my uncle’s and parents’ friends.” She takes a sip of the slightly sweet milky tea and releases a surprised humming moan. “Oh, this is really good. I really like this.”
“It’s my favorite way to have tea. Erin teases me because I like cream and sugar in my tea, but I drink my coffee black.”
“That is kind of weird.” Skylar laughs a little. “You’d think you would like them prepared the same way.”
“Why though? They’re two completely different drinks. One is basically bean water and one is leaf water – very different.”
Skylar laughs again and nods. “Good point.”
“So, you’re used to being friends with old people – but do you like being friends with old people?”
“Old people?” Skylar lifts her eyebrows in an incredulous way. “You’re not old.”
Ashton runs her finger through her short gray hair, tilting her head towards Skylar. “This is evidence enough that I’m old.”
“Hey.” Skylar palms her hand up the back of Ashton’s head, combing her fingers up through her hair. “I like your hair. It’s a nice color, it’s soft, and I love the way you have it cut. It doesn’t make you look old at all.”
“You’re full of shit.” Skylar laughs and playfully tugs on Ashton’s hair. “But you’re sweet. So, your parents would be okay with this?”
“Yes, they’re okay with this.”
“Good.”
Ember comes running over from across the room, where she had been playing with a plush toy, and as she tries to climb Ashton’s leg, she bends down to pick her up and sets her on her lap. After taking another delicious sip of tea, Skylar leans in closer to Ashton so she can pet Ember, bringing her shoulder flush with Ashton’s. The contact sends comforting warmth through both of them, and as if in agreement with how nice the company is, Ember purrs and meows as she bends her head into Skylar’s tender touch.
“She likes you.”
Skylar smiles at Ashton before looking at Ember again. “I like her too.”
The door opens and both of them crane their necks to the side to see Gloria walking in with a warm smile.
“Hello.”
“Hey, babe. You want some tea? The kettle should still be hot.”
“Sure. I’ll get it. How are you feeling?” She walks into the living room and sets her bags down on the chair. “You look nice.”
With a grin, Ashton looks down at herself, and as she looks up, Gloria runs her fingers through her hair to correct the mess that Skylar made of it and bends down to kiss her lips.
“Thanks. I’m sore. I had some trouble getting my bra on. I, uh, needed help.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I should have been here earlier to help you. Did you take any medicine?”
“No, I forgot.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
She lovingly caresses Ashton’s cheek, then Ashton watches her walk out of the living room in her burgundy wine-red skirt suit and go to the kitchen.
“I saw that.”
Her head snaps around at Skylar’s whisper and Skylar giggles over the rim of her tea as she takes a sip.
“Saw what?”
“You checking her out.”
“She’s gorgeous – can you really blame me for noticing?” Gloria suppresses a proud laugh from the kitchen, while Skylar laughs freely in amusement. “Anyway, you can’t tell me you didn’t check her out. Well, you can try, but I won’t believe you.”
“It’s hard not to notice her when she walks into a room.”
“Exactly.”
She waits a few moments to see if their conversation about her is over, then Gloria walks back into the living room with a mug of tea in one hand and three
tablets of ibuprofen in the other.
“Here, honey. This should be enough for a little while.” After dumping the pills into Ashton’s hand, she sits on her other side and crosses her legs at the knees, causing her skirt to ride up some, showing off her beautiful smooth bronze thigh. “Is Erin staying with you tonight?”
“I think so. Why?”
“If she doesn’t, I’ll stay with you so I can help you get ready in the morning. I don’t have an appointment tomorrow till ten.”
“You’re the best, babe.” Ashton leans over and kisses her lips. “How’s your day going so far?”
“Pretty good. This fantastic four bedroom in Silverdale that I’ve only had on the market for two days already has three serious offers. The family I showed it to today is very well-to-do upper-middleclass and the house is the perfect distance from the parents’ offices and within the kids’ school district. They basically told me they’ll pay anything. They want that house like a bratty kid wants cake. It has been too long since I’ve had a bidding war. I’m so hoping this turns into one.”
“Why does it have to be a bratty kid? Don’t all kids like cake – the angels and the hellions alike?”
Gloria slaps Ashton’s thighs while making a clicking sound with her tongue. “That is not your takeaway from my story, you brat. I am having a good day. Do not antagonize me.”
“But wouldn’t it be an even better day if you give me a proverbial ass whooping with a rousing verbal battle?”
“Later, baby. I’m on a different high right now. We need to get going soon. You need to put shoes on.”
“Ah,” Ashton looks over at Skylar, “see, this is where I always get in trouble with dressing myself.” Skylar and Gloria look at each other and share an amused smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make my best guess at what goes with this shirt and pair of jeans. And when I come back, there’s about a seventy-five-percent chance Gloria is going to send me back to my bedroom for a different pair.” She picks Ember up off of her lap and gives her a kiss. “You mind looking after my baby?”
She offers her to Skylar, and she takes the meowing kitten. “Yes, I’ll hold your baby.”
With a playful slap on Gloria’s exposed thigh, Ashton stands up, and after setting her half-empty mug on the coffee table, she walks out of the room. Gloria takes a sip of tea then shifts in her seat to face Skylar better with a calculating smile.
“Thanks for helping Ash. She can be a bear sometimes when it comes to accepting her limitations.”
“She wanted to wait for you, but I insisted. I hope you don’t mind.”
Gloria shrugs a shoulder and momentarily raises her perfectly groomed and arched eyebrows with a nonchalant head tilt. “Getting to see Ashton topless is always a nice treat,” Skylar blushes from her silent agreement, “but getting her out of that sulking state as quickly as possible is always best. You made the right call.”
“Okay, how do I look?”
Ashton walks into the room wearing a pair of casual box-toe black loafers and both Gloria and Skylar smile, but Gloria answers first. “Hello, sexy.”
“Ha, the twenty-five-percent wins today. I think I should buy a lottery ticket and throw some cash down on a horse at the tracks today.”
“How about you just take us to lunch after our first two appointments, honey?”
“Even better. I’m ready if you are.”
Chapter Sixteen
The sound of sneakers slapping against pavement and grinding small pebbles and bits of dirt between the rubber tread and asphalt is like the sound of a pendulum racing the beats of her heart. If Ashton was pounding out the beats in a park, she would have buds in her ears playing some of her favorite music. But she’s running on side-streets, the highway, and through parking lots – places with moving cars that she needs to hear to avoid. She needs the thrill, the danger; she needs action. But this isn’t cutting it. It’s not satisfying her need because she’s not saving lives. She doesn’t need the risk – she needs the purpose.
Four miles from home, she stops at a corner in the center of the small historic section of town bent over at the hips, panting for air and wincing in pain with every deep breath that flexes her bruised ribs. As she stands upright, she slowly lifts her arms up, weaving her fingers behind her head, further stretching her ribs in an effort to allow much needed oxygen into her lungs. She kicks out at a stone in frustration, sending it skittering a few feet before it hops off of the curb.
“This really fucking sucks.”
“Yeah, realizing you’re insane must really suck.”
She spins around and laughs hard. It’s only been a few days, but seeing Juan Perez’s face is a huge boost to her mood. He’s ten years her junior, but he’s a great friend and one of the best firefighters she’s ever worked with.
He leans in to loosely hug her, and asks, “What the hell are you doing out here talking to yourself, Lieutenant? Aren’t you supposed to be home healing from saving Fields and me from that fucking staircase?”
“I’m going crazy at home. I need to be at work.”
“It’s only been four days.”
“Yeah, four days of my crew going into an unknown number of deadly situations without me there to back them up. How’s it been going?”
“If it makes you feel any better, we’re all anxious to get you back. Captain Hunt and Lieutenant Decker – the douche have been splitting your shift.”
“Fucking Decker.” She grunts in frustration and kicks at another stone as she wipes her forearm across her forehead to wipe trailing sweat away. “Is he even going into the fires with you guys?”
“Yeah, right.” He scoffs. “The dude is a douche.”
“God, that pisses me off. Even with my busted ribs and shoulder, I’d still be able to do more than just stand outside and bark orders over the radios.”
She exhales hard as she looks up and down the street at the many boutique shops, just as a weak attempt to distract herself from her anger.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“The inflammation has gone down, but it’s a little bothersome still. What are you doing out here? You off today?”
“I’m actually out here on official firefighter business.” He holds up a black duffle style tool bag. “The post office had to install new fire alarms and smoke detectors. I just finished inspecting them.”
“Nice.” She pulls her chiming cellphone out of her pocket to check a new text message. She smiles and tilts the phone towards him briefly. “I’ve actually been doing similar work this week. I’m helping a friend find a new apartment.”
“Friend?” He extends it with a chuckle, making Ashton roll her eyes. “Does DeLuna know about this friend?”
“Stuff it, Perez.” He laughs. “Alright, I’m off.” She extends her hand and they shake as they loosely hug goodbye. “Be safe out there. Tell everyone I said hey.”
“Will do, Lieutenant. Go home and heal.”
“Right.”
She slaps his shoulder, then takes off at a light jog down the street to retrace her steps home. She has been going to view apartments and rental houses with Skylar and Gloria for the past three days and it has been a great distraction from her medical leave. But when she woke up today with no plans to see either of them, she was faced with the magnitude of her situation – she was sitting at home doing nothing while her crew was going into life threatening situations.
This near-obsession is exactly why she can’t get herself to retire from the life of a firefighter till her body forces her to. She can’t stand the thought of not being there to support her crew and have their backs. Her current medical condition is a result of the need for her to be on site and in the heart of the danger. If she hadn’t been there, if she hadn’t reacted when she did, Fields and Perez would have been seriously injured or killed. They didn’t see the heavy wooden spiral staircase give way. She had to tackle them both to the ground to avoid being crushed. She was struck by the corner of the underside of a step before
she got them out of the way, but it was just a near miss.
Knowing Lieutenant Decker is filling in for her has her blood boiling even worse. The man knows how to organize the crew, but since he was promoted four years ago, he rarely enters an active fire with the crew anymore. He doesn’t put himself in dangerous situations – he waits till he is ordered to do so by the captain or chief.
She mentally curses him as she gains speed to burn up the anger in her veins, promising herself that if anyone on her crew gets injured or killed under his watch, she’s going to rip him apart. Then she releases a grunting exhale and shakes her head in frustration with herself because she knows she’s not a violent person and wouldn’t be able to do anything so dramatic. Sure, she’d cuss him out, she might even grab him by the shirt and throw him against a wall, but she couldn’t actually do him real physical harm.
Her bruised shoulder and ribs are aching, but the pain and discomfort just spur her on even more. She needs to be strong for her crew. She needs to be strong for the members of this community she vowed to protect. Her lungs and thighs burn with each mile she runs under the heat of the eighty-seven-degree summer sun. An occasional light breeze catches the dripping dampness of her sweat to offer momentary reprieves from the heat. But while she burns onward, unyielding to the heat or the fatigue in her body, her head clears and the anger lessens. The anger is replaced with fortitude. Everyone needs a break sometimes – even the lieutenant. This may not have been her choice, and there’s no convincing her otherwise that she wouldn’t rather be at work, but she knows she’ll return stronger and sharper after she has healed.
She picks up her speed again for the last few blocks to force her muscles and lungs past their burning point and into a state of near panic and complete rejection of her treatment of her body. But as she reaches the entrance to her apartment building and slows to a light stride to let her heartrate come down, she releases a small gasping laugh of self-satisfaction. She might be forty, going on forty-one in a couple of months, but she’s still strong and agile.
