by Kathryn Shay
“Us.”
A frown marred his brow. “You haven’t changed your mind about marrying me.”
“No, I haven’t.”
His face was suffused with regret. “One of us will have to give up our jobs.”
She said, simply, “I will. I’ve got it all figured out.”
“Seriously?”
“Very seriously. I have a lot to tell you, Chase.”
“Okay, love, I’m listening.”
So Vanessa began to talk.
Chapter 24
* * *
The bus ride to the firehouse was loud and bumpy. But Holly didn’t care. She wasn’t anxious to get to their destination. She’d found out when she called the firehouse that Joe and his crew would be leading the afternoon field trip tour of the place. His group had been called in to do this because the one working couldn’t get subs, as they usually did. So she’d have to see him. Face what she’d lost. Or maybe thrown away. The thought left her depressed as they halted in the driveway of the red-brick building.
Holly stood and faced the kids in front of the bus, and the other teacher in the back got up, too. Holly said, “Let’s have a good time today at the fire station. And remember, we’re their guests. What does that mean?”
One little boy raised his hand. “To be polite. Like say thank you and not run around.”
Holly smiled. She loved these kids. “What else?”
Susie, another student, added, “Ask good questions.”
They discussed a few more points of etiquette and then she asked, “Shall we go in?”
A chorus of “Yes!” answered her.
They exited in an orderly fashion, and were met by Joe and four others. The sun glinted off his hair and made his eyes look like pools of dark chocolate. He seemed tall and fit in his light blue shirt and navy pants. His face lit when he saw her, then he doused the reaction and transferred his gaze to the kids. “Hello, there. I’m Lieutenant Santori. And this is group number three. That’s what each of the shift members are called: Group one. Group two. And Group three.”
He introduced Hildy Grant, Liam Murray, Norm Preston and Trevor Tully. Holly had never met any of his colleagues.
“We’re not officially on duty, but some firefighters are. So if there’s a call, you freeze in place and stay quiet. There’ll will be a loud bell, then a lot of commotion. Understood?”
The kids nodded vigorously.
“We’ll split you up into four groups because we have four places to visit in the firehouse. We want you to learn about us and the work we do, but also enjoy yourselves. And I think somewhere along the line there are cookies and milk.” He gave them his most beautiful smile. Damn him.
“As for teacher assignments, Ms. Michaels will come with me and Mr. Johnson can go with Firefighter Tully.”
Holly frowned. “I thought I might float from group to group.”
“Nope. My house. My rules.” He turned to the kids. “Ready, gang?”
Jay Johnson gave her an askance look. It was obvious what Joe was doing, keeping her with him, but Jay wouldn’t know that.
“My group is to stay right here in the bay,” Joe went on. “That’s what we call the garage that houses the fire truck.”
The other students were led away.
Holly could leave, despite what he said, but what kind of example would that give the kids? She’d gotten a direct order!
So she’d grin and bear it.
He put his hand on the fire truck. “This is our rig, or vehicle. It’s called a truck because it carries tools and equipment to fight a fire.”
Bobby Jones raised his hand. Joe nodded for him to talk. “Don’t you carry water?”
“No, it’s an engine that carries water and hoses. But we carry a pump with nozzles to plug into a water source if we have to.”
“Into a fire hydrant?” Bobby asked again.
“Or pipes that go high up into buildings that the water can be pumped through. These are called standpipes.”
Joe led them to the side of the truck. He took out a tool. “A halligan is like an ax with a pick on the end. It’s to break through doors or other things standing in our way, or the water’s way. The end can also pry open a door on a car.”
Then he removed a small generator and a long, scissor-like thing.
“This is the Jaws of Life. It cuts through the roof of a car or any other metal needed to be ripped open.” He pulled on the cord of the generator and a huge noise rent the air. One shy little girl, Mary, ran to Holly and clung to her. “Shh, Mary, it’s okay.”
Joe turned off the machine, set the Jaws back in the truck and went to her. He knelt down. “Mary, did I scare you when I turned the machine on?”
Her face peeked out from Holly’s skirt. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m sorry. I should have warned you. How about if you stay at my side and hold my hand for the tour?”
Big brown eyes rounded at his comment. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“’Kay.”
Joe stood and held out his hand. He led the little girl to the truck itself, hoisted her up first and let her honk the horn. He laughed when she got excited about it.
After the others took their turns inside the truck and they finished in the bay, he asked, “Who wants to see where firefighters sleep?”
A lot of “I do’s!” answered him.
Making sure she stayed in the back and away from Joe, she followed the group of kids to the bunkroom. Huh, she never thought about where firefighters slept. The room was neat and orderly. Mark Olsen raised his hand. “You got girls in this firehouse. Do they sleep here with you?”
“Their cots are in here as well as the guys’.”
“My mom won’t let me go on overnights with girls.”
He smiled. “I’ll bet she won’t. But we aren’t here to have fun with our friends. We get woken up in the middle of the night to rush out and fight a fire or help at an accident. We all have to be together to do that.”
Holly had to admit that was a pretty good save.
Next on the tour were the workout spaces, where Joe let the kids run off some energy. He also led them in jumping jacks and stretches. The kitchen and living area were last, then they ended up in the bay where the truck had been driven out and cookies and milk set up for everybody. The kids took seats at tables and the firefighters all sat with them.
Touched by witnessing Joe at work, so different from the hungover, guilty man she last talked to, she stepped outside. For a minute, she let the sunshine seep into her skin.
“Having fun, Ms. Michaels?” He’d apparently followed her out.
“The kids are.”
“Not you?”
She cocked her head. Screw it, she’d tell him her feelings! “It’s hard to see you so competent, such a good leader, and terrific with kids.”
“But that’s not enough, right?”
“Enough for what?”
“I want to be with you, Holly. This is me. I’m also the man who teases you, makes love with you and yes, even disappoints you. Forgive me, I guess, for being human!”
With that, he turned and walked back into the firehouse.
* * *
Holly was miserable by the time the students left late that afternoon. Seeing Joe today, in his professional role and what he said to her, made her wish things were different.
You can make them different!
What the hell, alter ego? You said it was over, too.
I changed my mind. Especially after today.
Her phone pinged, bringing her from her confusion and hurt. A text from her grandmother.
Hello dear. Would you be able to come over and have tea with me on your way home from school? I haven’t seen you in a bit.
Hmm. A visit with her grandmother might be exactly what she needed. As she drove to Dutch Towers, though, she remembered going there with Joe. How gentle and concerned he was for his grandparents. How much fun they had. But she pasted a smile on as she ente
red the building and found her grandmother’s apartment.
“Holly, dear.” Grandma hugged her in the doorway.
She held on tight. “Hello, Grandma.”
“Come inside.”
When she reached the living room off the foyer, she found Josephine Santori on a couch, a cup of tea on the coffee table. “Hello, dear. I hope you don’t mind. I came down to Ella’s because of the racket in my apartment.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” In actuality, it formed another layer of hurt in her heart.
Grandma brought her tea. They sat and she asked Holly how school was.
“This will interest you, Josephine. I took my students on a tour of Joe’s firehouse.”
“Yes, he told me when he came over today.”
“He’s here?”
“That’s the racket I was talking about. Moses thinks the shelves my dolls are on need replacing. He and Joey are hanging them.” She looked in the direction of the door. “I hate imposing...”
“I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”
Talk turned to the apartment. “I love your furniture, Grandma.” The soft microfiber couch in a slate blue and the matching love seat were not typical of her grandmother’s taste. There was also a leather recliner, the kind Grandpa favored.
“Your mother helped me pick all this out.”
“I’m so glad.”
Josephine dropped little nuggets about Joe in the course of conversation: He took Moses bowling every single week. He came to dinner at least once every two weeks. And he helped them with their finances and taxes. He even took his grandmother to church once in a while. After a couple of hours, feeling bombarded by all the new information about Joe, Holly stood to leave.
“This has been nice. Goodbye, you two.” She kissed her grandmother’s cheek, touched Josephine’s shoulder, and headed for the door. A few feet away, it opened and she bumped into Joe—literally. He steadied her with his hands on her waist. “Whoa there.”
Behind him, Moses said, “Ah, bellissima donna.” And hugged Holly.
“Hello, Moses.”
Joe stepped back. His hair was disheveled and he had smudges on his face. He looked young and healthy and content. He told her once being around his grandparents made him calm and happy.
“Hello, Joe.”
“Holly.” He ducked inside first and went over and kissed Josephine’s cheek. She said something to him in Italian.
He said, “I can’t stay. I got something else I have to do tonight.”
“Thank you, son.”
Holly had no choice but to walk out with him. He was silent for a bit, but as they took the elevator down five floors, he said, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Same here. It’s another unfortunate circumstance.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
They reached the bottom, the doors opened and she hurried out, saying, “Goodbye, Joe.”
When she got to her car, she clicked the automatic lock on the fob, got inside. But her hands fumbled as she tried to put the key in the ignition. She was...shaken. “Stop it, Holly.” She finally got the damn thing into its socket and turned on the engine.
Nothing. She tried again. Nothing.
She buzzed the windows down because it was hot in the car, and tried to control herself. No luck. She pounded her fist on the steering wheel and swore words she never used.
Joe came to the door. “You’d better watch it, Holly. Swearing like that makes you sound like a bad girl. And we both know you’re a saint.”
She ignored the dig.
He loomed over her. “What’s wrong?”
“The car won’t start.”
“Ah. The first thing we tell people to do when their car won’t start is to check the gas tank.”
She looked down. “Oh, shit.”
“Come on, I’ve got an empty can in my trunk. I’ll take you to a gas station, we’ll get some fuel and I’ll bring you back here.”
“You don’t have to. I can call Triple A.”
“Now isn’t that silly?”
“Don’t you have something else to do?”
“It’ll take us ten minutes.” He studied her. “Or are you afraid to be with me even that long?”
“Afraid of what?”
“That you’ll change your mind about us.”
“Just take me to get gas.”
* * *
By Wednesday morning, news had broken about Betsy Lucas and her part in the fire at the Jordans’ home. Joe sat in the house office and read the details on his phone. Holly’s mother must be so upset. Joe wasn’t even mad at her anymore for suspecting firefighters.
An email came in from Pat Green, the captain in the house.
Dear Joe and Abe,
I’m directing the two of you to keep to yourselves the mayor’s plans to interview our colleagues. It’s a moot point now, but know that Bob Zeleny told me this morning she’d called him about canceling the interviews even before her assistant confessed. I hope you’ll cooperate. If you’d like to talk about this, call me.
Pat
Joe agreed. Why drag that out of the shadows? It didn’t matter to him. Nothing did. And he knew why. She came in a cute little package with blond hair and blue eyes. He snorted at the sexist thought. She’d call him on it and make him apologize for his chauvinism. But Holly wasn’t in his life now, and claimed she’d never be.
Sinking further into depression, he turned to the paperwork. It never seemed to end, and he was immersed in filling out forms when the call came in. “Car accident at Main and Broad Street. Truck 8 and Engine 5 go into service.”
The flurry of activity erupted. Joe yanked the paper from his computer as four people whizzed by him. He met them in the bay. “No coats and masks needed yet,” he called out before they donned the turnout pants and boots. “But put them in the rig.” They’d go fully prepared for a fire at the scene or anything else. Once on the rig, the siren screeching through the streets, Joe forced himself to concentrate on work. He’d never had to make the effort. What had the woman done to him?
Their vehicle came to a halt by a black Bronco which had clipped an SUV on the passenger side. The SUV must have spun around and hit a parking meter right between the front and back seats.
They dismounted the rig and Joe hurried to the driver’s side. A woman was slumped in the front seat. He tried the door, but it was jammed. So he knocked on the window. “Ma’am, can you roll down the window?”
Dazed, she looked at them.
Then he heard it. A cry from the back. When he checked, he saw an infant dressed in all pink, her car seat facing the trunk. His crew checked the other side of the car. Those doors didn’t work either, or they were locked.
“Get the ram to pop one, Tully.”
Tully raced to the rig to get the rabbit tool.
Joe said, “Tape the window on the passenger side, Murray, in case this doesn’t work.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Murray put tape on the glass window to make sure it didn’t shatter inward when removed, the baby began to cry in earnest. Tully returned and Joe worked on the front door. It finally opened. The woman inside was awake, and Joe could see the seatbelt practically choking her. Reaching over her, he tried to unlock the belt. Tully, behind him, held out a knife. Joe cut the belt off. Then Preston handed him a collar, and Tully and Joe eased the woman out onto a backboard Murray had brought. They crossed to the ambulance, which had arrived only seconds before.
Joe said, “Grant, climb in between the front and back seats and get the kid.”
He moved away from the car and Grant slid into the front. It took some effort to crawl between the seats, even for someone smaller and more flexible. The child still cried, but the sound was more of a whimper. On her knees in the back bench, Grant uttered soothing words. “Shh, love. You’re okay. We’re here for you.” She was able to unlatch the harness and ease the child out. Meanwhile, Joe knelt on the front seat, took the little girl and, once
out on the street, he held her to his chest. His hand on her head, he brushed down a full head of dark hair. And even in the midst of a dicey call, Joe was overcome by one thought: he wanted a baby who would wear pink. And he wanted Holly to have her.
Chapter 25
* * *
Still shaken from yesterday and what happened with Betsy, Vanessa was headed down the hall to her office after a meeting with her communications director, Carolyn Reese. They’d crafted a public statement to put out tonight, and Carolyn would be handling the herculean task of dealing with the press. Earlier, Vanessa had informed her whole staff about Betsy’s betrayal and everyone was stunned. Betsy’s actions had brought chaos to her administration.
The elevator pinged when Vanessa was about five feet away from it. Oh, Lord, she recognized the man who got off. “Dad?”
Her father turned. His face was lined with fatigue, his shoulders slumped and his eyes bleak. “Vanessa.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’d like to talk to you, but I was afraid you’d refuse my call.”
She touched his arm. “Never. Come with me.”
They entered the reception area and went into her office. “Sit down, Dad. Want coffee?”
“Yes.”
She was even more concerned about his condition when his hands trembled as he took the cup from her. She sat in the chair next to him.
“Are you all right?”
“No. I haven’t been all right for years.”
Vanessa steeled herself. Was he here to berate her about her affair with Craig again? Complain about her mother moving out? “What do you mean?”
“It’s been hard since your mother rented the apartment. Harder because I didn’t move with her.” He searched her face. “I want to tell you why.”
“Okay.”
He grasped her hand. His was cold and thin. “I’ve been unfair to you. I blamed you for everything five years ago, when in truth, I caused the whole family more hurt than you did.”
“Oh, Dad, that’s in the past. I’d like to move forward as a family.”
