Cowboy Baby Daddy

by Claire Adams

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I said, as I swung the dolly around and pushed it toward the back door of the garage.

  “She’s supposed to do the inside stuff, and I’m supposed to do the outside stuff!” he protested. “She’s got me wrapping presents! You know I have no idea how to do that shit!”

  “You know, you’re kind of a dick, Tony,” I laughed, as we began pulling the plastic off the water and tossing it into the large tubs we’d set up near the grills. “Wrapping packages isn’t a gendered thing, my friend.”

  “But I shovel the walk and hang the lights!” he protested more loudly. “I’m supposed to be exempt from that girly shit!”

  “Oh, Tony, you have my sympathies, man, but you’d be wise to get with the program,” I laughed. “This is, after all, the 21st century. Besides, who are the packages for?”

  “My parents,” he said.

  “Jesus Christ, man,” I said, shaking my head. “You are so lucky your wife doesn’t kill you in your sleep!”

  “Hey, guys, who's killing who?” Cal asked, as he joined the conversation. Tony stared at him without saying a word as I ducked behind the cart and grabbed a couple boxes of soda and began putting them in a second tub. Cal tried again, “Seriously, what’s going on?”

  “Why don’t you go grab the rest of the drinks, rookie?” Tony asked, without looking at him. Cal sighed and then slunk away as Chief and two of the guys lit up the grills and signaled the start of the party.

  “Why do you have to be so tough on the kid?” I asked, as Tony rapidly threw bottles into the tub and then dumped bags of ice onto them.

  “He’s an idiot,” Tony grumbled. “Asking questions when he should keep his mouth shut. Doing stupid shit that he should have learned not to do in basic training. Idiot.”

  “We were all idiots, Tony,” I reminded him, as I grabbed a bag of ice and covered the cans I’d put in the tub.

  “Well, he’s a special kind of idiot,” Tony muttered. I knew Tony’s irritation was about more than the rookie, so I let him stew while I helped Chief get the meat ready for the grill.

  Every Christmas Eve our station threw a party on what was normally the slowest night of the year, to celebrate another successful year, and every year the members of the community came and brought food, drinks, and toys that we would donate to the Marines Toys for Tots drive and brighten the holidays for kids who might not otherwise get anything from Santa. We provided the food, and the community provided gratitude and gifts.

  It was more than a fair exchange.

  “You ready to light up the grill, Chief?” I called, as he emerged from the station wearing a tall white chef’s hat and a long white butcher’s apron. Chief loved playing the role of the chef every year, mostly because at no other time did he do any cooking at the station.

  “Ready and waiting!” Chief bellowed, as he cranked the gas and lit held a match to each of the three gas grills we’d borrowed for the event. Soon the grills were flaming hot, and Chief began dropping burger patties on one and hot dogs on the other.

  The smell of sizzling meat made my mouth water as the guests began to arrive, each carrying a side dish or a dessert. One after another they deposited their offerings, until the long tables groaned under the weight of all of the food. My stomach growled as I hugged two elderly women who’d been attending the festivities for longer than I’d been on the squad.

  “Come and get it!” Chief hollered, as he set two trays, heaped high with still-sizzling meat, on the tables next to the buns and condiments.

  “You guys eat first,” Bill Reynolds, the owner of Lexington Hardware, said as he gestured to the tables. “The rest of us have the luxury of knowing we definitely won’t be sent on a call tonight.”

  The firefighters crowded around the table and made quick work of the first grill offerings as the guests served themselves appetizers and drinks. Chief threw more meat on the grill, and someone cranked up the Christmas carols as the party shifted into full gear.

  Somehow the holiday magic extended to our station, and as the night wore on, things remained quiet. By midnight, the last of the guests had headed home to dream of the next day’s celebration, and we finished cleaning up the remains of the party. Tony’s mood had lifted a little, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught him telling the rookie that he’d done a moderately good job of keeping the drink tubs filled.

  I smiled as I stored the rest of the leftovers in the fridge and then headed to the bunkroom to get some sleep. With any luck, we’d sleep through the night, and I’d be well rested for my family’s Christmas celebration in the morning.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emily

  I was sunning myself on a warm beach as Blake Gaston began slowly rubbing sunscreen up my leg. I tipped my head back and sighed as his strong fingers worked their way up the inside of my thighs, spreading the slick substance higher and higher.

  “What the hell?” I spit, as something fuzzy lodged itself in my mouth. I sat up coughing and spitting as I slowly realized I’d been dreaming. I whipped around to find Howard perched on my pillow, licking his wet little paw and ignoring my outraged utterances. “You are a little bastard, you know?”

  The air in the room was well below a comfortable temperature, so I pulled the comforter around me as I quickly crossed the room and turned on the space heater. I hated using them, but until my landlady fixed the furnace, I really had little other option than to do what I could to keep the place warm.

  “Damn it, I told that woman I wanted the heat fixed before Christmas!” I muttered, as I slid my feet into my slippers and moved into the living room to flip on the heater before heading to the kitchen to make coffee.

  I turned on the oven so I could make a pan of baked French toast, and soon the house was warm enough for me to drop the blanket. Howard padded out to the kitchen and sat at my feet mewing as I brewed my first cup of coffee.

  “You think I’m going to feed your dream-wrecking ass, do you?” I asked, as I grabbed his bowl off the floor and filled it with dry food. He shot me a look that told me he was not the least bit amused before turning his attention to his breakfast.

  After breakfast, I did a load of laundry and cleaned the bathroom and the bedroom. It was late afternoon before I settled down on the couch to watch Die Hard. I laughed as I recalled how, the day before vacation, a couple of faculty members debated whether it was a Christmas movie or not. Personally, I thought it was, and had a hard time understanding how others couldn’t see it.

  Just as John McClane began climbing up the ventilation shaft to get to the bad guy, the phone rang. It was KO calling from home.

  “Hey, Em, how’s it going?” she shouted over carolers in the background, belting out an enthusiastic rendition of “Jingle Bells.”

  “It’s going good,” I laughed, as I heard her turn and tell everyone else to zip it. “Quiet day at home with me and Howard, nothing major. How’s your trip?”

  “These people are crazy,” she said, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial level. “I cannot believe I’m related to them.”

  “Ah well, once a year exposure is good for you,” I said, as Howard jumped up on the couch and patted the hand holding the phone.

  “Yeah, it reminds me why I left in the first place!” she laughed, before getting serious. “You okay, Em? Seriously.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, as Howard pawed my hand a little harder. “But I think your biggest fan wants to speak to you.”

  “Tell that fat little boy I’ve got a surprise for him, if he’s good,” she laughed, as I lowered the phone down and listened to Howard mew a couple of times. KO responded with an interested, “Is that so?”

  “Okay, well, if you two BFFs are done, I’m going to finish watching my movie,” I laughed. We wished each other a Merry Christmas and then hung up. I looked over at the screen to find the plane on fire already and grumbled, “Oh great, I missed the best part!”

  Howard blinked before turning around a couple of t
imes and then curling up on my lap, where he promptly went to sleep. I watched the rest of the movie and then flipped the channel to find the old version of A Christmas Carol just starting. I pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and covered Howard and I with it as I snuggled down to watch the movie.

  A few minutes later, my phone rang again. Thinking it was KO calling back, I answered laughing, “My God, can’t you just enjoy the holiday without harassing me?”

  “Merry Christmas to you, too, Emily,” an icy voice replied. My stomach clenched as I realized I’d said pretty close to the absolute wrong thing I could have to my mother.

  “I’m sorry, Mother, I thought you were KO,” I said, trying to convey remorse I didn’t feel. “Merry Christmas. How are you?”

  “How do you think I am when I only have one of my daughters home for the holidays?” she replied tersely.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I know it’s a disappointment, but I just couldn’t get away in time,” I said, fudging the truth. In reality, I had zero desire to return to my parents’ home for any length of time, and especially not during the holidays, when I’d simply be on display as a testament to their outstanding skills as parents and mental health professionals.

  “If you’d have planned better, you wouldn’t have had to miss out on the family gathering,” my mother said, pointing out my shortcomings, as usual.

  “Yes, well, you know me and planning,” I said, making a weak joke to avoid having to deal with the reality. “How’s Dad?”

  “Your father is the same as usual,” she sighed. “Working way too many hours and not taking care of himself. You know, you’d better make it a priority to come home soon and see him or else you might regret not having done it while you had the chance.”

  “Is Dad sick?” I asked, alarmed that I’d been excluded from something like that.

  “No, of course not,” she said in an exasperated tone. “I’m just saying that nothing lasts forever, and you’d be wise to make more of an effort to come visit us while you can. It’s been entirely too long, Emily.”

  “I know, Mother, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got a lot on my plate,” I said, offering another weak excuse.

  “I’ll never understand why you chose to follow such a low-paying career path with so few benefits,” my mother sighed. “It’s tragic to see you wasting such an outstanding education on something so…so…menial.”

  “I enjoy it, Mother,” I said, gritting my teeth to keep from telling her what I really thought. The incredible irony of my family was that my parents were both world-renowned psychiatrists who were completely unable to have a direct conversation with anyone in our family. As a result, we never actually addressed the issues that drove us apart. As a teenager, I’d tried, but having been rebuffed by the professionals one too many times, I gave up and now was extremely adept at playing the family game.

  “There’s more to life than just enjoying your career, Emily,” she said, in a mildly scolding tone. “You need to be financially responsible for yourself.”

  “I am, Mother,” I said testily. “I just don’t have a lot left over for extras.”

  “That’s part of being responsible, darling,” my mother reminded me. “Do your father and I need to send you money again?”

  “No, Mother, I’m fine,” I snapped.

  “Well, I sent you a package with your presents in it,” she said, as I eyed the beautifully wrapped packages sitting under my small tree. “Did you receive it?”

  “I did, thank you,” I said. “They’re beautifully wrapped.”

  “Aren’t they, though?” she said happily. “I had Bella, at Saks, work her magic on them. She always does such an amazing job of making things look perfect.”

  “Indeed she does,” I agreed.

  “Well, I hope you can get some use out of them,” she said. “I paid a lot of money for the highest quality I could find thinking it would last you longer.”

  “I’m sure whatever you sent will be phenomenal,” I said, trying to find a way to get her off the phone before she gave me a rundown of where she’d shopped and what she’d spent. Normally, I’d just sit and make mouth noises as she chatted, but tonight I wanted nothing more than some peace and quiet with my little bit of holiday cheer.

  “Call me in the morning and let me know how you like your gifts,” my mother said.

  “Will do, Mother,” I said, as I quickly came up with a plausible excuse. “Oh, gotta run! I’ve got something in the oven, and the timer just went off! I don’t want it to burn!”

  “No, of course not,” my mother said. “Go take care of it before you burn your house down.”

  “Merry Christmas, Mother,” I said. I listened to her pause and then wish me the same before I disconnected. I sat petting Howard for a long time as the ghosts of Christmas past and present appeared in the bedroom of old Ebenezer Scrooge. Howard and the quilt combined to create a soft, warm pocket, and I drifted off just as the ghost of Christmas future was about to reveal Scrooge’s destiny.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blake

  I woke up the next morning with the eerie feeling that someone was watching me. I rolled over and found Tony sitting on his bunk wearing a ridiculous Santa hat and holding a package wrapped in bright red paper. For a moment I was confused, and then I remembered it was Christmas morning.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I grunted, as I pulled the blanket up over my head and tried to go back to sleep.

  “Dude, it’s Christmas!” Tony whispered excitedly. I pulled the blanket down and rolled halfway over, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Are you high?” I asked.

  “No, I’m serious! It’s Christmas morning, and we didn’t get a call all night! I’m going to make it home for present opening, and my wife is going to be happy!” he whispered.

  “You stupid idiot!” I hissed. “You don’t say that shit out loud! Jesus, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Sorry, I forgot,” Tony said, hanging his head. I chuckled as the pom pom on the top of his Santa cap flopped forward, covering half of his face.

  “Just shut the hell up and go back to bed, would you?” I grumbled, as I pulled the blanket back up and closed my eyes. I knew it was too good to last.

  The sirens blared as the announcement came over the loudspeaker telling us that we had a call. I threw the covers back and shot Tony a look that could have frozen ice. He tossed the box on his bunk and tore off the cap before breaking into a dead run toward the garage. I hopped out of bed and followed Tony down the hall as the alarm blared and the voice on the intercom calmly told us we were heading to a residential structure fire.

  “Great, someone’s Christmas is totally shot to shit,” Tony said, as we sped down the street toward the fire.

  “Maybe they don’t celebrate,” I suggested. “Then it’s just a shitty way to spend a winter morning.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Gaston,” Tony said, as he fought against the grin that threatened to spread across his face. He added, “My wife is gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

  “I’ll write you a note,” I offered. “She likes me.”

  Tony rolled his eyes and turned to looked out the window as we rolled up to the scene. The house, engulfed in flames, burned brightly against the inky pre-dawn sky. I surveyed the scene and noticed a small blonde woman standing off to one side with her back to us, stomping her foot as she yelled something at the house. It wasn’t until we got out of the truck that I could hear what she was yelling.

  “HOWARD! HOWARD! Get your ass out here right now! Do you hear me?” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “I’m not fooling around here, mister! HOWARD!”

  “Looks like there’s someone still inside the house,” I said to Chief as he joined the scene.

  “Gaston, you and Williams take Jordan and get in there with the hose,” Chief said, gesturing toward the front door.

  “Aw man, Tony is not going to like having the rookie with us,” I said. Chief ignored me and turned to the ladder guys.
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  “Tony! Rookie! Get the hose; we’re going in!” I shouted. Tony turned and shot me a look that I ignored simply because we didn’t have time to argue. If there was someone still inside the house, time was running out for him.

  I yanked on the hose and pulled the mask down over my face as we headed for the front door. Up top, the ladder team was getting ready to get on the roof and vent the fire. I knew we had about ten minutes to locate the resident and get him out. After that, the roof was going to start to cave. We busted through the front door and found the living room smoldering, but not yet fully engulfed in flames.

  “HOWARD! Fire department, call out!” I yelled, as I turned the water on a patch of smoldering carpet. We moved through the living room putting out the embers as we headed toward the back bedroom. I hollered again, “HOWARD! Waltham Fire Department! Call out! We’re here to help you! Can you hear me?”

  I listened for a moment, but heard nothing. I shot a stream of water down the hall and put out the flames that had climbed up the walls and were threatening to spread to the front of the house. When the crackling sound died down, I heard a small sound coming from the bedroom.

  “Tony! I think he’s in there!” I shouted, as I yanked on the hose. I kicked open the bedroom door and came face to face with a wall of flame that shot out at us. I quickly raised the hose and opened the valve as wide as I could, hitting the flame with the water and watching as it sputtered out under the weight of the liquid. When it was out, I listened closely and heard a small sound coming from the closet.

  I walked over and looked inside the smoke filled space. In the far corner, I saw a fat tabby cat laying on its side, panting with its eyes closed.

  “Are you Howard?” I asked, as I reached down to lift the cat up. It opened one eye and hissed weakly at me before he let me pick him up and tuck him under my jacket. I handed the hose to Tony and said, “I need to get him out to the medics; finish putting out the hot spots in here, and I’ll be right back.”

  I could feel the cat struggling to draw a breath now, so I quickly retraced my steps and exited the house in a dead run toward the medics. I handed the cat over and headed back into the house where I saw that something had ignited in the living room. The flames had spread across the front of the house, and I had a bad feeling as I pulled my mask down and ran headlong back into the building.