by Kathryn Shay
“I’m rescinding the brownouts for the fire department.”
“Seriously?” the chief blurted out. “Why?”
“Because in the last months, since the brownouts started, I’ve had a statistical analysis done on fire-related injuries. In three cases here in Rockford, people were hurt because they were unable to be reached in time. They were in the section of a brownout.” She faced him squarely. “Go ahead and say I told you so, Chief.”
He didn’t gloat. Instead, he raised blond brows. “I’m glad you changed your mind. And the injuries weren’t life-threatening.”
“Still, I’ve been proven wrong.”
More murmurs around the room. They didn’t know she had it in her. But she’d learned a lot in the last six months.
“Thank you, Madam Mayor.”
“Don’t thank me so fast, chief. All the other budget cuts remain. And the next item agenda includes your department. And the police force, Chief Corrigan.”
No one seemed surprised, since she’d emphasized aid for the elderly in her campaign.
“I’d appreciate your feedback, but ask you to wait until Andy’s finished presenting my facts.”
He clicked on a Power Point presentation, and the first item came up. “First off, we’re expanding our free cell phone program.”
“The one we have is working fine,” Corrigan put in, ignoring her earlier comment about interruption.
“We know, Chief. But we want to initiate a wider-based program, where the older person can use the phone for more than 911 calls.”
“Why?”
“I’ll take that one, Andy.” Vanessa faced Corrigan. “Because some older people in our community don’t have regular contact with others.”
“You’re a budget hawk. It’ll cost money to offer that service.”
“We already contacted the providers. Sprinkle and Verivison are on board to provide 250 minutes to all seniors for any kind of usage.”
She’d had to badger them for the service when Andy struck out. In only one year in office, she’d become a thorn in the sides of a lot of people.
“Second,” the budget guy said, “the fire and police departments will provide a check-in service for seniors through home visits and regular phone calls. And before you object—which I wish you’d hold till the end—we’ll start with computer-generated calls.”
“How will they do any good?” Corrigan interrupted the guy anyway. “If they don’t answer their phones?”
“Three consecutive non-answers result in personalized calls, or visits.”
Dane’s face reddened. Chase sighed heavily.
Vanessa intervened again. “This shouldn’t be too bad, guys, because it’s split up among every fire house and police precinct.
“Next, is training people who come in contact with elderly on a regular basis to identify danger signs and providing information on getting help. Upon noticing an elder who needs assistance, volunteer employees will make a phone call to the senior information and assistance office who, in turn, contact the elderly person. The appropriate health or social service organization is contacted and care is delivered. Supermarket clerks, bank tellers, pharmacists, customer service representatives, waitresses/waiters, paper deliverers and more.”
“You gotta be kidding me.” Dane was pissed now, she could tell.
So she answered again. “I assure you, we’re not.”
“How the hell will you implement this one?”
“Both departments will hold awareness sessions for those in your neighborhoods to train people to do these things.”
Back to Andy. “Last, we’d like to follow the example of the Birmingham Fire and Police Department that offer assistance by performing small household chores or errands during their breaks or after their shift ends. This relationship between seniors and firefighters and police officers may lead to seniors using those departments to connect them with other programs that prevent isolation and provide safety."
Absolute quiet.
“And while you’re in these homes, you can address some safety concerns. Firefighters can talk about kitchen safety, not to wear loose clothing, to stay in the kitchen when the stove is on. Both can address that space heaters must have a three-foot perimeter clearance around any device.”
Again, Vanessa spoke. “Firefighters can also help plan escape routes when a fire breaks out. 911 calls should be made once outside of the building. Police can instruct how to react when there’s a home invasion, and that includes escape routes if time allows for the victims. If not, where to go in the house and then call 911.”
More dead silence.
Then Dane Corrigan stood up and walked out of the room.
She looked at Chase. His brows rose, but he didn’t join Dane. She wondered why.
* * *
Present Day
Chase reached the diner before she did and found them a booth in a quiet section. He slid onto the bench, wondering which person would show up: the vulnerable woman from the hospital or the prickly mayor who he argued with all the time.
He also wondered about the scene he witnessed; she was estranged from her family over something that happened five years ago. And she mentioned not wearing a scarlet A. He didn’t know what on God’s green earth that meant, but he’d be sure to find out.
“Hi.”
Distracted, he hadn’t seen her arrive at his table. He slid out of the booth and stood. “Hi.” He sat back down only when she took a seat on the other side of the booth.
“You always do that. Stand, when a woman comes in the room.”
“My mama taught me well.”
The waitress arrived and they both ordered coffee. Vanessa wore a light cotton coat the color of wild oats and slid it off her shoulders. “I don’t know much about you. Where did you grow up?”
“South Carolina. NASCAR country.”
“Hmm, I should have guessed. You have a slight Southern accent that comes out when you get mad. Or are really nice. And you still use colloquial phrases.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Her face showed interest. “Did you drive stock cars?”
“Not competitively. But all down-home boys had to earn their stripes behind the wheel.” He grinned. “It was the manly thing to do.”
Relaxing back into the booth, she said, “Ah. Well, you don’t seem to have any problem in that area.”
Startled by her comment, it took him a minute to come up with a response. “Is that a compliment? Coming from you?”
A small smile curved up the corners of her mouth. “It’s a compliment. But I will admit, they’re a sparse occurrence between us.”
“That’s an understatement. If I recall correctly, you accused me of being a hard-headed s-o-b, stubborn as a mule and not knowing my head from a hole in the ground.”
“All in private, Chief.” Another smile. Broader this time. “But you do bring out the worst in me. I think your words were pushy broad, uptight and stubborn as all get-out.”
He sipped his coffee. “We probably should behave better.”
“As I said, it’s all been in private. But you’re right. Let’s try from here on out.”
“Okay.” He held out his hand. “Truce.”
She actually laughed before she shook. “Truce. For now.”
“I knew this was too good to be true.” He watched her over the rim of his mug. “Vanessa, you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to, but would you like to talk about what’s going on between you and your family?”
The vulnerable woman was back. “I blew up our lives five years ago. They’ve been angry since then.”
“Five years is a long time to carry a grudge.”
“It was a pretty big explosion. The shrapnel was far-reaching.”
“You said you wouldn’t stand in the line of fire anymore.”
“Yeah. I’m sick of Paul’s animosity. And Holly’s distancing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What about you?” Her eyes narrowed on hi
m. They were as green as the grass in spring. “I suppose you had the perfect family life.”
“Hardly. I only had one child, like you.”
She actually reached across the table and squeezed his hand briefly. “That was a thoughtless remark. I’m sorry you lost him.”
“Me, too. Thanks again for coming to the memorial here.”
“You have a lot of friends who wanted to support you.”
He would never have called her a friend. “And for the fruit basket.”
“Not very original. But I guessed you’d have people over. And I heard you got custody of your grandchildren.”
“I did.”
“Two of them?”
“Both girls. The little one is seven. The older one is fourteen going on thirty-six.”
“I heard at the memorial that your wife passed away years ago.”
“Celine died when Scott was ten. Cancer.” He cleared his throat. “My boy and I had a lot of years alone.”
“Losing a child is the worst thing that can happen to a parent.”
Chase cursed fate once again. “He was coming to live in Rockford, but he had to finish his smoke jumper tour out there.”
“Oh, that’s worse for both you and the girls. Isn’t their mother in the picture?”
He felt the anger and resentment rise inside him. “No, she left them all when Colette, the youngest, was two.”
“That’s awful.”
“We didn’t even see her when Scott died. Not that I’d let her have the kids.” He had to lighten this conversation. “Listen to us, sharing our woes like old people.”
“Today I feel like a hundred.”
“Nah.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Are you even forty?”
A chuckle this time. “That and more. You?”
“Passed the big 5-0, I’m afraid.” He touched his skin above his mouth. “I shaved my moustache because Kassie—my other granddaughter—said I look old with it.”
“How are they taking all this?”
“I’m afraid I have a long row to hoe there.”
She got a faraway expression on her face. “I remember when Holly was Kassie’s age. Girls are troubled, insecure and moody then.”
“Just when I think we’ve made progress, something else pops out.”
She sipped her coffee. Her skin was relatively unlined, and her cheekbones high. Damned if he knew why he noticed her hair, her eyes, her mouth.
“Do I have something on my face?”
“No. You seem tired.”
“I am.”
“Do you want to talk about the fire while we’re together?”
“I don’t think I can handle all that right now.”
Must be the mayor had disappeared for the night.
“All right. But know I get a monthly a report with signatures of the firefighters who check the alarms.”
“Maybe tomorrow, I’ll deal with that.”
There wasn’t anything to deal with and, ordinarily, her comment would have irked him. Not now, though, because she was exhausted, and remembering their earlier assaults on each other, he’d been glad to return to talk of how to handle teenagers.
But he had some re-evaluating to do. This was a side of Vanessa Jordan he’d never seen before.
He liked her a lot better this way.
* * *
Before Holly and her father could leave the hospital, the nurse came out and told them that her grandmother had woken up. Instead of leaving, the two of them hurried to her grandparents’ room. Grandpa was dozing, but Grandma was sitting up. The faint smell of smoke still hung in the air. Holly crossed to Grandma’s bed and kissed her cheek. It was cold. “I’m so glad you’re awake and alert. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, child. But you shouldn’t have waited at the hospital this late.”
“I’m taking care of her, Ella.” Dad circled her and kissed Grandma’s cheek too.
After a bit of conversation, a fit of coughing rumbled out of her chest. “Oh, dear. Don’t worry about this. It’s normal.”
“Aren’t you on oxygen, like Grandpa?”
“I have it over there.” She pointed to the nose mask on the nightstand.
“You should have it on.” This from her dad.
“I will when I go back to sleep. Now tell me what you learned about us being discharged. We don’t know much because of how sick we were.”
Holly tried for a light tone, but seeing her grandma so frail shook her. “What I know is the doctors want to wait until they repeat the blood tests. You have to stay here until your lungs clear in case you need another hyperbaric session.”
Next to her, Holly’s grandpa turned over. He was wearing the oxygen nose contraption, and his face was red. The doctor explained the discoloration was the result of chemicals in the combustion causing direct injury to his skin.
Her grandmother’s eyes tracked their gaze. “Edward’s not doing as well as me. He’ll probably have to stay even if I don’t.”
“That’d be the best for him, Ella.”
Her grandma’s eyes teared up. “Do you know the condition of the house, dear?”
“The fire chief said it’s unlivable right now. We don’t know the long-term prospects. But when you’re released, I want you to come home with me.”
“I think my house would be a better place to recuperate.” This from her dad.
Holly wasn’t surprised at his comment. Her father liked to be in charge, decide things for her life and her grandparents. Which was one of the reasons she hadn’t moved into her own place until she rented an apartment for a year and then bought her condo.
Grandma frowned. “That’s kind of you, Paul, but I’d prefer to spend time with Holly.”
As if they always hadn’t. Holly had stepped into her mother’s shoes when she finished college. She’d been the daughter to them that her mother hadn’t. But to be fair, her grandpa pretty much ostracized her mother. Grandma was more open to her.
As if she read Holly’s thoughts, Grandma asked, “Did you notify Vanessa of the fire?”
Holly hadn’t, which, now that she’d seen her mother, she was feeling guilty about. But she said, “My mother knows. She was out of town, but flew back in and was here tonight.”
Her grandmother’s hand fluttered to her chest. Holly noticed how papery, how translucent it was. “D-didn’t she want to see us?”
Holly’s father answered. “We thought it best she didn’t.”
“I, um, I wouldn’t have minded.”
Like he often did, her father changed the subject. “You don’t have to decide about her tonight.”
Her dad shouldn’t have said that. Apparently, Grandma had already decided she wanted to see her daughter.
When a nurse came in with sleeping pills, Holly and her father said goodbye. As they walked to the elevators, her dad took her hand. “I don’t want them to see your mother.”
“Grandma wants to, Dad.”
“She’s feeling vulnerable. It’s our job to make her secure, which is why I think you and the two of them should move into my house for a while.”
Holly couldn’t possibly live in that house again. Too many memories. Good and bad. If Dad knew about the former, he’d get mad.
“Honey, nothing has to be ironed out tonight. You’ve been here since six a.m. We’re both tired. I’ll take you home and we can meet back here tomorrow.”
“I have my car. That sweet firefighter drove me here in it from their house.”
“No worries. I’ll take care of you.”
Maybe she would have objected, but she was hit by a sudden bout of fatigue. And she’d been traumatized by the events of the day. Now wasn’t the time to stand up to him. Her friend Lizzie would say she was copping out, like always—and she’d be right. Ever since her mother betrayed them all, Holly always took the easy way out with her father.
Which was beginning to be a problem.
* * *
Two days later, eight a.m., in front of room 318
at Memorial Hospital, Vanessa took in a deep breath and smoothed down the skirt of her beige suit. She’d been to visit her parents yesterday and it had been strained. Still, she stayed and talked to her mother when her father fell asleep.
Now, she walked into the room determined to improve their relationship. She’d almost lost them. Her mother sat in a chair, and her father on his bed. They were all packed and ready to go. Her father looked up. His face was still red from the carbon monoxide burns, but the doctors said he could go home.
“Hi, Mom. Dad.”
“Hello, child.” Standing, her mother approached her. Took her hands. At one time, there were hugs in this family. “Thank you for picking us up. Holly had to go back to work after taking two days off.”
She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t tell them that this was her responsibility in any case.
Her father stood, too, and lifted his suitcase off the floor. “We’re ready.”
Not even a hello.
Despite his coldness, Vanessa dived right in. “I wish you two would come and stay with me. I have more room than Holly.”
“We don’t need much room.” This from her dad, of course.
“I’ve been thinking,” her mom put in. “If the house turns out to be inhabitable, maybe we could come and stay with you for a while.”
Her father harrumphed.
“That would make me very happy, Mom.”
Now her father shook his head.
Two nurses walked in through the door. The older one spoke. “You have to go in wheelchairs, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan.” To Vanessa, she said, “Pull your car around the loop. We’ll wait for you at the entrance.”
“I’ll take their bag.” Holly must have bought them some stuff.
“I’ll carry it on my lap.” Again, Dad, who wasn’t giving an inch.
Vanessa left the room feeling battered, but memories of the unkind words between Vanessa and her father five years ago wouldn’t let go...
How could you do this to Paul? To us? To your daughter?
I’m sorry, Dad. But you don’t understand the whole of what happened.
I understand we’re losing Linc, Marion and Doug. But I’ll tell you one thing, young lady, we will never lose Holly. But you might!
Edward Jordan had been right about Holly, and Vanessa’s heart was still broken over it.
