Something Worth Saving

by Chelsea Landon

  I understood why they were seeking comfort from each other. The pain was very much real for both of them, but why couldn’t he talk to me?

  Dispatch to command, where’s the male in custody? And what’s the position of the firefighter whose PASS was activated?

  Command to dispatch, we’re finding out now.

  * * *

  Sunday, December 16, 2012

  Jace

  WHEN THAT alarm goes off at the station, I’m ready and willing to give my life to save a nameless face. Why is it that I struggle with my own and can’t seem to give the life I depend on to breathe what she needs?

  It was Sunday night, and I should have been there with her, saying all the things I was saying to Brooke to Aubrey instead.

  “Her mom is a real piece of work, and it’s taken a part of her.”

  “So that’s why you guys never talk?”

  “That’s not entirely why,” I said, leaving it at that. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, but then again, this was my best friend’s wife. She knew everything about me.

  “You can talk to me,” she said, sensing my hesitation.

  “The thing is . . . I want to marry Aubrey. I do.”

  Just about the time I was feeling like this was some kind of intervention for me, or the therapy session they made me do at work the other day, Brooke asked, “Do you love Aubrey, Jace?”

  “With all my heart.”

  She knew by my answer, my instant, sure answer, that it was true. “Why are you with me . . . when she needs you, too?”

  The question was something I had considered. A lot, actually. Why was I here?

  More or less I wanted to make sure Brooke was okay. I wanted her to know someone was there for her. I wanted . . . I felt guilty. That was why I was here. If this had been me, and Brooke were Aubrey, I wanted to make sure she was okay. I wouldn’t want her to be alone.

  I knew what the guys thought. They thought I was moving in on the widow and stepping out on Aubrey. I would never do that.

  Tears rolled down Brooke’s cheeks as she watched Amelia sleeping on her lap, and my nerves returned. Amelia, bless her sweet innocent heart, had been so strong through all this.

  A familiar devastating sadness came over me, the kind of pain that made you feel hollow.

  “I . . . ” I stopped short of what I was about to say. She didn’t want to hear the words “I’m sorry” again. If anything, they meant nothing to her anymore. It didn’t change a goddamn thing.

  “When are you going to marry her?” Her question caught me off guard, but it was what a lot of people were wondering these days. Especially after Logan died.

  If I were to die in a fire, sure, my kids would be taken care of, but with Aubrey not being my wife, that left little help for her. In any situation, it made sense for us to be married. My problem wasn’t that I didn’t want to be married to her. It was that I didn’t see the point in a piece of paper for one, and I didn’t think she wanted that right now. Everything with Aubrey and me had been easy, just flowed naturally, aside from communication. I’ll admit the last four months hadn’t been, and that only complicated the situation. Her mom and Ridley, they were all putting doubt in her head when they had no idea what my intention really was.

  I thought Aubrey knew, but lately, it didn’t seem that way.

  “I don’t know if she even wants that,” I said.

  “She wants to marry you.”

  “How do you know?” Deep down I had a suspicion that Aubrey wanted marriage. Hell, we talked about it when we were younger, but we were kids. Life happened, and so did her mom. Like it or not, Georgia had done a number on Aubrey in ways she couldn’t see, or didn’t want to. Ridley did the same.

  “I see it on her face. She wants you to marry her.”

  You and me both.

  I nodded. I’d seen, it too. It’s a look you don’t forget. It’s those long looks at girls with rings that remind me she does want that.

  “I’m scared.” Never had I actually admitted that before, but I was. “I bought a ring two days ago and haven’t given it to her. The night I was going to give it to her, Ridley kissed her, and I went insane.”

  “Did she want him to kiss her?”

  “No. She slapped him, but it just got me thinking about how far we have gone in separate directions.”

  “Jace, life is really short. Really fucking short. So marry that girl. Give her what she wants. Because tomorrow you may not get the chance. All this other crap going on with you guys could be fixed if you just talked to each other. Just talk. Don’t blame one another . . . just talk.”

  Her words struck me right in the heart.

  Would this ever get easier?

  This time, would I say what I mean?

  These were the questions I asked myself every day. And every day, I had no answer.

  I would have given Aubrey anything she wanted. That goes without saying. But how can I ask her to marry me when I can’t even tell her that our problems, our lack of words, is because this tough guy I’m supposed to be breaks down every day at the shit I see.

  And that scares me.

  Command to dispatch, we’ve gotten confirmation from Medic 16 the male victim has died. He’s being transported now. No word on the firefighter lost on four. We have the team in there now.

  * * *

  Sunday, December 16, 2012

  Aubrey

  EVERYONE HAS nightmares, right?

  I had this one of Jace where I’m watching him walk away from me. I hate the dream because I’m screaming his name; he’s in full gear, but yet he doesn’t turn around. No matter how much I scream, he doesn’t even flinch. And then I wake up drenched in sweat.

  Being here now, seeing him turn away from me, I feel like I’m living that nightmare.

  He got home at ten-thirty that night and noticed immediately that my lip had been split.

  “Why is your lip cracked?”

  “For the same reason Lauren has stitches in her chin and Kari fell down two flights of stairs.” I said this so nonchalantly you would have laughed at my expression.

  But Jace wasn’t laughing.

  “What?”

  “I was stalking you when you went to Brooke’s. I was paranoid that maybe you were looking for someone else to make you happy.” There. I said it. “And I was almost arrested.”

  Despite the look of concern, he laughed. “Are you serious?”

  “I wish I wasn’t.” If only he knew how shameful last night really had been for me . . . in so many ways.

  When he laughed, I realized how much I’d missed the sound. How much I craved it.

  The man before me with the dull blue eyes and dark circles, the one with the five-day beard and the mess of black hair in his eyes, this wasn’t Jace. Or . . . maybe it was. Maybe this was what I was left with when Logan died. Maybe this was who he’d become.

  Everyone has been there. A place, a dark place where your life, and your relationship, isn’t what you wanted it to be. It resembles none of the elements it did in the beginning, and now you’re left wondering where it will end up.

  It’s on the tip of your tongue and a warmth to your words you can’t put there. Instead it’s in the sharpness of your tone and the coldness that surrounds them.

  We’ve been here so many times. It’s the same fire, same situation, but this time it’s different — the words, the fire he breathed that made me crazy. Made me want to rescue him.

  I don’t know if it’s in you when you’re born or something you learn, but fighting fires is a way of life. It’s who he is. I would never change that. It takes a special kind of person to be able to run into a burning building and give your life for theirs.

  But at the end of the day, when you have to live a life outside of the fire, then what?

  Where does that leave the ones who give their hearts to these heroic, obsessed men?

  I wish I knew.

  “What do you want Aubrey?” Complicated eyes drew mine toward his. I was so ti
red that I could barely keep my own eyes open. I did for the simple fact that we needed this. Right now, in the darkness where my reservations rooted us, we were talking.

  “I don’t know.”

  His tone was frustrated as he repeated his question. “Tell me what you want.”

  Marriage. You home.

  “You.” I settled on one. For now.

  I can’t lay it all out there right now.

  “You already have that. I’m here.” Forcefully, pressing his eyes shut, he asked, “Do you love me?” His voice was like gravel, and my heart was an open wound.

  I wanted to tear this feeling from my chest. Rip the motherfucker away. “Always.”

  Jace gave a nod. His eyes closed and then opened slowly, watching mine.

  “You put up a good front. You do. But I see what this has done to you. To us.”

  He wasn’t saying anything again.

  “You make me so insane sometimes. It’s like watching a fire destroy everything you love. I have the ability to put it out, but I can’t. I need you to get it. I need you to understand now how hard this is on me, and now . . . ”

  “I understand.” He shook his head, as if he didn’t want to hear anymore. “I’m not sure you do.”

  “Why were you out so late with Brooke?”

  “We were talking.”

  I knew I had nothing to worry about, but our brains sometimes work in funny ways and put doubts where they didn’t need to be.

  “I’m just trying to help out her, Aubrey. She’s struggling, and it helps to have someone around who understands.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No. You can’t.” He seemed to sense immediately that his words hurt me, and he hastened to add, “It’s no fault of yours. It’s just . . . I don’t know what it is, but it’s nothing besides me being a friend for her. She doesn’t expect anything. I’m just there for her to talk.”

  Brooke did need someone. I understood that, and had I been in her place, I would have been grateful for the support around me.

  The feeling returned and rose up, coating my cheeks with a mixture of sadness and anger.

  When would Jace be there for me? When would he stop saving others and save what was right in front of him?

  Monday, December 17, 2012

  Aubrey

  MONDAY NIGHT Jace and I drove out to his parents’ house to get the kids, only the snow storm they had been predicting literally happened while we were trying to get there.

  Seattle doesn’t get much snow; I’ve said that before. In a matter of thirty minutes, at least two inches had formed on the already frozen streets, leaving them a mess. Everywhere we looked, cars were colliding with guardrails and other parked cars.

  Some people even stopped and got out of their cars, leaving them in the middle of the road, as if that would solve the problem. “What a bunch of assholes,” Jace grumbled, pulling around a Nissan that had stopped in the left lane of the two-lane street.

  When we reached Capital Hill, that was when we saw the worst of it. Two buses had collided with each other and smashed into a guardrail, and were now dangling over I-5.

  The accident had just occurred, as no emergency personnel had arrived yet. Jace reached for the center console to retrieve his phone.

  He must have dialed 911, but I was too stunned to understand what was happening. My eyes focused on the bus that was in front, teetering dangerously close to the edge. Bystanders stood rendered silent as they slowly approached it, but I don’t think anyone knew what to do.

  “What are you going to do?” My voice shook; he knew immediately I was scared.

  His hand found mine in the dimly lit truck. “I’m going to go help who I can. Stay here.”

  “There’s no fire.” I was only pointing out the obvious. “How can you help them?”

  “There doesn’t have to be. I do more than run inside burning buildings.” His remark was kind of sarcastic, but I could tell he was in his work mode now. He wanted to save those people, should they need him.

  I knew that.

  “I’m scared, Jace,” I said. My hand wrapped around his forearm as he put his hand on the door to get out.

  He paused with one foot out the door, the other on the steering wheel as he twisted away. “Don’t be. I’m not. I’m just going to go over there and make sure everyone is okay.”

  I sighed, not feeling relieved in the slightest. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

  “Stay in the car.”

  There wasn’t a chance in hell I was getting out. It was cold. I was positive penguins would have struggled in that cold. It was a living hell, and Jace was going out in it. To save others.

  Nature raged outside, and the tires on the snow made a crunching sound as cars fought for control on the slick road. Dozens of vehicles lost control, slamming into other ones all around us, some nearly missing our truck, and Jace.

  Once the fire trucks and ambulances started to arrive, I could hear him outside the truck, helping the passengers as they lay on the ground just feet from me. The wind had picked up and the snow swirled as if it was dust, constricting my view and, I’m sure, Jace’s.

  It was a surreal experience to see this up close and personal, knowing some of these people I was watching being carried away wouldn’t make it another few hours.

  “Can you feel your fingers and toes, buddy?” Jace asked a kid lying on the snow-covered pavement.

  “No.” The kid, who looked to be a teenager, started to cry. That was when Jace took his jacket off and draped it over the kid’s chest. “I can’t.”

  “Get a neck collar and a long board over here!” Jace yelled over his shoulder, and then turned back to the kid. His eyes caught mine and he looked at me for just a split second. “What’s your name, buddy?”

  “Chris.” The boy sniffed. Everything from his waist down was completely still. It was fairly apparent he’d broken his neck.

  “Mine’s Jace . . . we’re gonna get you on this board and get you to the hospital where they can help you out.” Jace laid his hand on the boy’s chest, reassuring him with a soft tone and a gentle touch. “Just stay calm.”

  One by one, he helped the passengers off the bus and then assisted in getting them all the help they needed.

  I was in awe of him and what he did, but also scared.

  He didn’t look afraid. He looked full of determination to save these people. I saw him work firsthand for the first time in my life, and I finally understood why he did what he did.

  I wondered how he did it. How could he have a level of detachment that allowed him to save small children and then come back out from saving another, only to see them being covered in a tarp?

  How could he stomach seeing people crushed to death and then trying to pull them to safety? How could he look into the eyes of that boy and not cry, knowing he wasn’t going to be okay?

  “How do you decide who to save or who you’ll go after first?” I asked when he got back in the truck. “Is that boy going to be okay?”

  “He’s paralyzed.” His eyes seemed distant, as if he had to be so he couldn’t feel what this was doing to him. “You go off instinct usually.” Rubbing his hands together, he cranked the heater to restore the heat in the truck. “Whoever is closer. A child, a woman, or how bad their injuries are.”

  “So you can save people . . . aside from saving them from fire?” My thoughts went to the boy and the tears I’d seen in his eyes.

  Jace looked at me curiously for a moment. I guess, when I thought about it, I hadn’t understood the extent of his training. I knew he could do CPR and all that, but this looked above and beyond that. “I’m EMT certified, all firefighters in Seattle are, but I’m not a paramedic. I could save them if I had to. I’m just not allowed to administer drug therapy or start IVs.”

  One would think I would be proud of what I’d seen, and I was. He saved those people’s lives. But the other part was scared shitless that I would be sitting with Brooke tomorrow night, and she would be comf
orting me.

  “Why do you do this?” I asked, feeling my anxiety rising as we tried to get to his parents’ house. Every street we turned on there was wreck after wreck, and I knew he wanted to stop and help. He probably would have, but when he looked over at me, he saw it. I was scared.

  So many cars had nearly hit him when he was out there, but selflessly he risked his own life for the unknown.

  “Where is this coming from, Aubrey?”

  “It’s coming from me.” My voice was starting to shake, mirroring the actions of my body as I fought the nerves and the cold. “I’m scared.”

  “You have nothing to be scared of.”

  “Yes . . . yes I do.”

  He nodded; he knew exactly what I was referring to. He knew he was wrong. I had a lot to be scared of.

  “Why do you always have to be the hero? What about me? What about the kids? Do you ever stop to think about how we feel?”

  “Don’t.” He wanted me to stop talking, but with what I’d just seen, I couldn’t. I had never been that close and seen how dangerous his job really was. He always told me it was different, that yes, it was dangerous but like this? I wasn’t prepared for that.

  “Why do you always have to be the hero? I can’t do this without you, Jace.” I was so pissed by the time he got inside the car that I said what I was feeling.

  Just when I thought he might see this for what it is, he didn’t.

  Why? Why did he always have to do this? Why were we never important?

  His expression shifted from hurt to anger in the blink of an eye. “Don’t, Aubrey.” He shook his head, snow falling from his hair, and then resting his hand back on the steering wheel. We hadn’t moved in a couple of feet. The traffic was stopped ahead of us for what looked to be another accident, judging by all the lights. Sirens could be heard in either direction. All around us the snow fell in large flakes that coated the streets in a heavy slick sheet. The windshield wipers swished on high, but it didn’t seem to make a difference, as it was packed in white clumps and accumulating more quickly than the wipers could clear it.