April Embers_A Second Chance Single Daddy Firefighter Romance

by Chase Jackson

  “It wasn’t a dud at all,” I sniffed, glaring down at my beer.

  “Ok, so… what’s the problem?”

  The kiss instantly vanished from my mind, replaced with the feeling of guilt that I had felt when I ran into the firehouse and found my daughter asleep on the break room couch.

  In that split second, I had remembered every time my mother bailed on me for her boyfriend-of-the-week. I remembered every time she had stumbled home drunk, stinking of booze and another man’s cologne.

  I had never compared myself to my mother before, but in that instant, I had found myself wondering if Charlotte would feel the same way I did. Would she smell the scotch and Desiree’s perfume? Would she feel betrayed, the way I used to feel betrayed?

  Of course she would feel betrayed, I told myself. I hadn’t even told Des that I had a daughter. What kind of father does that?!

  The guilt churning inside of me felt hot like molten lava. Being with Des again had felt perfect. I wanted more than anything to have a thousand more nights just like tonight, so we could make up for all that time we lost. But I knew it wasn’t that simple. I knew that it wasn’t just about Des and me anymore...

  “I have to think about my daughter,” I said firmly, taking a deep breath. “She comes first. Always.”

  “Ok,” Bryce said. “But… you can be a dad and go on dates.”

  “I don’t know if she’s ready for that yet--”

  “Time the fuck out,” Bryce cut me off, making a ‘T’ with his hands. “Are you telling me you haven’t dated at all since you split up from Charlie’s mom?!”

  I just shrugged as I took a swig from my beer bottle.

  “I don’t understand,” he blinked at me. “Not one single date?! Not even, like, a fucking 2/$20 at Chili's?!”

  “Definitely not.”

  “But… you’ve gotten laid, right?” he sounded genuinely concerned for my wellbeing.

  I shot him a glare, and he backed away.

  “Ok,” Bryce held up his hands. “I’m just asking if the equipment is still functional, that’s all…”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. The ‘equipment’ was just fucking fine, and the truth was that I had had my fair share of one night stands throughout the years. They were always meaningless and going nowhere… and never, ever when Charlie was around. Those were two parts of my life that I kept completely separate.

  But Des was different. With Des… that wasn’t an option.

  “I guess I’m not seeing the problem here,” Bryce shrugged. “Being a single dad doesn’t mean your life is over. You’re allowed to date.”

  “But Charlotte--”

  “Jesus, you’re really a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy, aren’t you?” he grunted. “Charlotte is fine. She knows that you love her, and she knows that you’re not going anywhere. She also knows that you’re lonely. Kids are perceptive to that shit.”

  What about Desiree? I asked silently.

  I let out a deep sigh and was about to raise my beer bottle to finish off the final swig, when a little voice peeped into the kitchen,

  “Daddy?”

  Bryce and I both spun around and saw Charlie standing in the kitchen doorway, groggily rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Shit.

  “Charlie!” I dropped my beer bottle into the sink and crossed the kitchen to scoop my daughter up into my arms. She immediately wrapped her arms around my shoulders, squeezing me with all of her might.

  “Ready to go home?” I asked, planting a kiss on her forehead. She nodded silently, burrowing her head into my chest.

  Charlotte didn’t make another peep as I carried her out to the car and helped her squeeze into the backseat, then switched on the ignition and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. I thought she had fallen back asleep, until I heard her tiny voice from the back of the car,

  “Hey Daddy?” her feet tapped the back of my seat gently. “Do you think we can take Cooper home to live with us?”

  “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” I said. “Cooper is Duke’s dog. But you can always visit him at the firehouse.”

  “Hmm,” she mumbled. She didn’t seem satisfied with my answer, but her eyes drifted out the window and she stared up at the dark night sky.

  “Hey Daddy?”

  “Yes, Charlie?”

  “Did you fall in love tonight?”

  “What?!” my eyes flicked up, meeting hers in the rear-view mirror.

  “Mister Bryce said you went on a date,” she said, prodding my seat again. “I heard you talking about it in the kitchen.”

  “Charlotte, that was a grown-up conversation,” I said sternly. “You shouldn’t have been snooping.”

  “If you fall in love with her, that means she can come and live with us, right?” Charlie asked, ignoring me. “And then we can be a family?”

  My eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror again, and I saw Charlie’s giant orbs blinking back at me hopefully.

  “We’re already a family,” I told her.

  “Nuh-uh,” Charlotte shook her head from side to side. “Real families have a mom and a dad.”

  “Charlotte…” I sighed, leaning my neck against the headrest wearily. “You do have a mom and a dad, and we both love you very much… even if we don’t all live in the same house.”

  Charlotte was silent in the backseat, and when I glanced up at the rear-view mirror I saw that she had gone back to staring absently through the window.

  “Mister Bryce was right, you know,” she said softly, keeping her nose pressed to the glass.

  “About what?”

  “You are lonely,” she said.

  “Hey, don’t be silly! How could I be lonely when I get to hang out with you?!”

  “It’s not the same, Daddy. I’m just a kid. You need a grown up so you can fall in love and be happy!”

  I sighed, glancing at my daughter’s profile in the rear-view mirror.

  There wasn’t a single thing I didn’t adore about that kid… from her eyelashes down to her pinky toenails.

  I wasn’t sure how or why I had hesitated at dinner… but if I had the chance to do it over, I would rewind the night and tell Des everything.

  I stared out at the dark, empty road that stretched ahead of me. A tiny trace of her lip gloss still lingered on my lips, and I found myself tasting her all over again.

  Maybe it’s not too late… maybe I can make this right.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN | DESIREE

  “Alright everyone, settle down!” I barked from behind my desk.

  The first period bell had rung five minutes earlier, but my classroom was still buzzing with the sound of thirty-some restless students shuffling and clamoring to take their seats, all while giggling and chatting away.

  There was good reason for the excitement, today was the first day back at school after the now-infamous cafeteria fire.

  Although the blaze had mostly been isolated to the school cafeteria, there was still a fair amount of smoke and burn damage to the surrounding hallways and classrooms. So, the students and faculty of Hartford High School had gotten a week long ‘vacation’ while repairs were being made.

  As of the first period bell this morning, Hartford High School was officially back in business… but based on the chatter spreading through my classroom, it seemed like my students were still stuck on ‘spring break’ mode.

  There was a stack of freshly printed pop quizzes on my desk, still warm from the Xerox machine, and I rolled them into a makeshift megaphone and held it up to my mouth.

  “Last warning!” I bellowed loudly through the paper cone. “Take your seats and zip your lips, otherwise I’m going to have to resort to the clapping game!”

  The clapping game was a tactic of last resort, dreaded by teachers and students alike. The mere mention of the ‘game’ usually incited a reluctant hush or chorus of stifled groans, but not today.

  Today, even that wasn’t enough to incite a sense of calm in my unruly classroom. Undaunted by th
e threat of the clapping game, my first period students kept right on giggling and gossiping away.

  I huffed out a sigh and raised my makeshift megaphone again.

  “Alright, how about this,” I barked. “You have three seconds to take your seats. Any students left standing after I count to three will be joining me at the front of the classroom to offer a comprehensive overview of this week’s reading assignment. 1…”

  Well that did the trick.

  A collective hush immediately rolled over the classroom, and before I could even count to ‘2’ all thirty-some students had stuffed themselves into their desks and clamped their mouths shut.

  “Wow, no volunteers?” I grinned as I circled around to the front of my desk. My thirty-some students just blinked back at me in silence.

  “I hope this doesn’t mean you guys skimped on your reading assignments last week,” I said, unrolling my paper megaphone and hugging the pop quizzes against my chest, “Because we’re actually going to start today’s class with a pop quiz.”

  The students shifted around in their seats and exchanged panicked glances. One student raised his hand reluctantly.

  “Yes, Bobby?” I called on him.

  “Um…” he mumbled, grimacing uncomfortably, “I thought that since we were on a break, we didn’t have to do the reading assignments anymore?”

  “Oh,” I made my mouth into a little ‘o’ as I eyed the class. The general look of panic in the room told me that the rest of my students had reached a similar consensus.

  “I see,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “Well I was hoping that you would all keep up with our reading assignments, regardless of the break…”

  There was an audible gulping sound throughout the classroom.

  “But,” I said, turning my stern face into a smile, “After the fire, I think we all needed a week off to reflect and relax.”

  My students practically hunched over in their desks as they sighed with relief and nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

  “Good call, Miss L!” Cody clapped from the front row, while the student sat beside him raised his arms over his head like an Olympic runner triumphantly sprinting across the finish line.

  “There’s just one small problem,” I said, holding up the stack of papers. “I already printed off all of these pop quizzes…”

  I wrinkled my face thoughtfully, pretending to hem and haw while my students watched anxiously from the edge of their seats.

  “How about this,” I decided finally. “We’re still going to take the quiz--”

  Before I could finish, I was cut off by an immediate chorus of groans. Some students muttered complaints under their breath, others locked their knuckles together and made mercy pleas.

  “Hold on, hold on! Let me finish!” I held up my hands, silencing the classroom. Once everyone had quieted down, I continued, “We’re still going to take the quiz, but it will be open-book!”

  That garnered even more relief and excitement, and I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing as I passed out the quizzes. This was the most animated and excited my class had gotten all year, and I had to admit, I was impressed by their theatrics. Too bad this was AP English, and not drama club…

  After I had passed out all the quizzes, I settled down in the chair behind my desk.

  “You have fifteen minutes,” I said, glancing at the digital clock that was mounted on the cinderblock wall.

  The classroom immediately went silent; the only sound was the flipping of textbook pages and the scribbling of pencils on paper. I surveyed the scene for a few seconds, then I turned my attention to the stack of homework assignments that I still had to grade for a later class.

  I guess my students weren’t the only ones slacking off during the break… I thought to myself as I uncapped a red pen and poised it over the first assignment. I should have graded these ages ago…

  We had made it halfway through the allotted quiz time when I heard the dull rumble of a cell phone vibrating from somewhere in the classroom. My eyes flicked up, and I saw several other students glancing around, trying to determine the source of the sound.

  “Just a reminder,” I said, “The classroom cell phone policy still applies, even during open-book quizzes.”

  I turned my attention back to the stack of papers on my desk, but before I could reach for my red grading pen, I heard the dull purr of another short vibration.

  I sighed sharply and stood up from behind the desk, eyeing my class suspiciously.

  “Guys, I’m going to say this again,” I said, trying my best to sound stern. “Please refrain from using your cell phones during--”

  “I think it’s coming from your desk,” a student in the front row said. He pointed the end of his pencil towards my canvas school bag, which was resting on the edge of my desk.

  “That’s not--” I frowned, but before I could finish, there was another vibration… and this time, there was no denying the source. The sound was coming straight from my canvas bag.

  “Do you need a reminder of the cell phone policy, Miss L?” Cody cackled.

  My cheeks flushed pink and I bowed my head, ignoring the snickers from the rest of the class.

  “You have five more minutes to finish the quiz,” I said sharply as I snatched my bag off the desk and threw the strap over my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  I slipped out of the classroom and closed the door gently behind me, then I pulled open my bag and dug through the mess of textbooks and loose assignments until I located my cell phone. I brushed my thumb over the home button and the screen lit up.

  There were three unread text messages displayed on the home screen, and they were all from Rory’s number.

  My heart immediately spasmed in my chest and my mouth was suddenly as dry as the Nevada desert. My hands got so clammy that I nearly dropped the phone. I forced myself to close my eyes and take a long, deep breath.

  I hadn’t seen Rory since that night. I still wasn’t sure what to call it… was it a reunion? Dinner between old friends? A… date?

  I didn’t know what to make of it all, and I definitely didn’t know what to make of that kiss.

  God, that kiss…

  It was almost perfect… and then, in the blink of an eye, it was over.

  I knew that Rory had a perfectly valid reason to leave. He was a fireman, and duty called. I knew I couldn’t hold that against him… but part of me still couldn’t help but feel like it was deja vu all over again.

  That one kiss had proven that every feeling I ever felt for Rory was still alive and burning inside of me. But when he left… well, that proved that he could still disappear without a trace.

  I blinked open my eyes and glanced down at the phone screen, then read the texts in the order that they had been received,

  ‘I still can’t believe I pulled the vanishing act on the best date of my life. How about a second second chance?’

  ‘There’s something I want to tell you. Dinner?’

  ‘I promise I’m not going anywhere this time, Des.’

  I re-read that last text at least a dozen times, letting the words seep into my bloodstream like smooth, warm honey. My heart slowed to a purr and I let my shoulders slump back against the wall of lockers.

  I could have been giddy that he had called our night together a ‘date.’ Not just a date, but ‘the best date of his life.’ I could have been over the moon that he wanted to see me again.

  I could have fixated and flipped out over any part of his message, but the only part that seemed to matter was that final line.

  I hadn’t even realized how badly I wanted -- needed! -- to hear those words until I saw them on my cell phone screen.

  ‘I promise I’m not going anywhere this time, Des.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | RORY

  I made a final pass through my hair with a comb, then I stood back and glanced at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I barely recognized the guy staring back at me.
/>
  My beard was trimmed, my hair was slicked back into a catalogue-model coif, and I was wearing a freshly-pressed denim button-up shirt and navy blue chinos. Give me a pair of black-framed glasses and a vegan latte, and I’d almost pass for a fucking coffee shop hipster.

  I popped open the top button on the shirt and stretched out the collar, trying to make it look a bit more natural… a bit more me.

  “Come onnnn, Dad!” Charlie groaned impatiently from the other room, her voice muffled through the bathroom door.

  “Alright, alright!” I called back. “I’m coming!”

  I gave the collar another tug, then I sighed in defeat and pushed open the bathroom door.

  Charlie was bouncing impatiently on the edge of my bed, where she had set up a ‘judging panel’ consisting of Mr. Flipper and a few other stuffed animals-turned-fashion critics. She stopped bouncing when I stepped out of the bathroom, and her eyes locked onto me as she analyzed my outfit.

  I strutted out into my bedroom like I was on a catwalk, then I planted my hands on my hips and did a 360.

  A few years ago, this routine would have easily had Charlie rolling around on the floor and howling with laughter… but when I came full-circle, I saw that my seven-year old was all business. Her lips were pursed, her nose was wrinkled, and she was stroking her chin thoughtfully as she inspected my denim shirt.

  I gotta say, when I asked Charlie to help me pick out an outfit for my date tonight with Des, I hadn’t expected my seven-year old to morph into a miniature Anna Wintour.

  Then again, my daughter had been full of surprises lately.

  Our conversation on the drive home from the firehouse had opened the floodgates. When we sat down at the breakfast table the following morning, Charlie had proudly read me my ‘love horoscope’ from an app on her iPad. And it didn’t end there. When I drove her to school, she pointed out all the single mothers in the carpool lane. Later that night, she grilled me about my dating preferences over cartons of Chinese takeout…