by Barbara Lohr
The plate fell from Amanda’s hands, shattering in the sink. She remained mesmerized by the blackened shell of a building, red and orange flames shooting from every window. Black smoke charred the sky.
“Amanda, honey. You’re making a mess.” Pushing Amanda gently aside, her mom turned off the water and began picking up the broken pieces.
“Berwyn?” Her father frowned. “Next to here, right?”
Amanda nodded. Given its size, Connor was fighting this fire. Her heart thudded in her ears and an icy shiver snaked through her numbness. Crossing her arms tight across her chest, she drew closer to the screen.
“Although authorities say the fire is now under control, one fireman is reported missing. He returned to the building to save a pet dog.”
The news moved on, and Amanda collapsed onto the nearest chair.
“There, there.” Her mother gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sure Connor’s all right. He wouldn’t be so foolish.”
“Yes, he would.” If anyone would dash back into the fire to save a dog, it would be her husband. Skin prickling with nerves, she jumped up. ”I have to go to the firehouse. I can’t just sit here.”
“But it’s so cold out and it’s snowing. Can’t you call?” Her mother followed her into the hallway where her father was already reaching for his own jacket and then her coat.
Face stern, her dad grabbed the keys from the hall table. “Donna, let me handle this. We’ll be back in two shakes.”
Her mother’s face paled, her lips forming a thin, tight line. “We’ll be back soon, Mom.” Amanda rushed out, her father right behind her.
Outside, their breaths plumed on the cold night air. “Dad, my car is behind yours. Want to drive?” She fumbled in her purse for the keys and handed them to her father. No way was she driving. Walking had become a chore, let alone driving. Within minutes, they were headed for the station.
Familiar streets whizzed past, a blur in the darkness. Tonight, nothing looked the same. Except for his heavy breathing, her dad was very quiet. His eyes were trained on the road under what she called his “geezer hat” for cold weather. Shivering in her new wool coat, she choked out directions.
The what if’s clamored in her mind.
What if that missing fireman was Connor?
Chapter Five
Amanda teetered on the brink of disaster. Life without Connor? Unthinkable. Nothing else mattered anymore. Not the baby, the fertility treatments– what could be more important than Connor?
If she couldn’t see those warm brown eyes come through the door every night, what good was anything? If she couldn’t curl into Connor’s arms, cup his square chin in her hand, what would anything else matter?
“We’ll get the bottom of this, Amanda.” Her father broke the silence. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Connor will be fine. He’s a very capable young man.” Her father expelled a ragged breath that didn’t comfort her.
All around them, tidy brick homes were festooned with red and green lights, but Amanda’s mind flat-lined at gray. By the time they reached the neighborhood where the firehouse was located, Amanda had started to bargain.
Just give me back yesterday.
She would take it, no questions asked. Without children, without a big house, with students that often made her crazy. That’s what she wanted. Yesterday’s life. She wouldn’t ask for anything more. Yesterday, Connor had looked at her as if she were beautiful. Made her feel loved. She ached to be in his arms, taut muscles against her, stubbly chin grazing her cheek.
Biting down hard on her lower lip, she would not cry. But the road blurred in front of their headlights. Her dad had never been much for words. Now every jerk of the wheel, every clearing of his throat told her how nervous he was. When they reached the station, he squealed to a halt and put the car in park so fast her head snapped. “Sorry, honey. Not used to your shift.” He stared at the gearshift in his hand as if wondering how it got there.
“That’s okay, Daddy.” Amanda shoved her door open and it wedged into a mound of solid snow.
“Let me pull up,” her dad fumed, more to himself than to anyone. “Goddamn snow.”
The car was still rolling forward when Amanda hopped out.
Please, just give me Connor and yesterday.
I’ll never ask for a baby or anything else.
Her boots skidded on the icy walk. Finding her footing, she kept going, every icy breath searing her throat. The door of the fire station was up, and bright lights illuminated the interior. One of the trucks had returned, and the guys were hosing it down. Water pooled on the floor and damp mist clung to her skin. She marched in and grabbed the T-shirt of Will O’Malley, the first man she met.
“Will, where is Connor?”
Will stared at her from raccoon eyes left from the mask. “Connor? On the other truck, Amanda.”
Her grip tightened on his shirt. “Is he all right?”
“Ask him yourself.” He jutted an elbow in the direction of the street. Another truck was rumbling in, coughing as if it had inhaled too much smoke.
When Amanda saw Connor at the wheel, she swallowed a sob so big it hurt her throat. Wives of firefighters didn’t cry. Loosening her hold on poor Will, she dashed fingers under each eye. Coming up behind her, her dad clapped one hand on her shoulder. She squeezed his hand but she wanted Connor. She inched forward while the soot-streaked truck pulled into an empty bay.
Jumping down and coming round the truck, Connor looked like he’d just escaped from hell. His red-rimmed eyes widened. “Amanda? What are you doing here?”
“Connor.” She threw herself against him, reveling in the rubbery feel of his heavy coat, the smell of smoke, and the rasp of his beard on her forehead.
“Stop. I’m a mess.” He tried to push her away.
Wriggling closer, she found his lips and kissed him hard. She felt his sharp intake of breath, the rigid set of his shoulders. Then his lips angled and softened. His arms closed around her and he lifted her off her feet. Connor landed a kiss that got the guys whistling. They were making a scene, and she didn’t care.
Breaking away, Connor took her in, one sooty palm cupping her chin. “Amanda, honey? What is this?”
Clearing his throat, her dad stepped up. “We saw the news, son. Amanda was worried, of course. We all were.”
“Someone was missing,” she choked out. “I just…”
“You thought the worst. Guess I can’t blame you. They found Jimmy. Took him to the hospital. That damned dog. But the mutt’s okay too.”
She backed off a bit and nodded. “Of course. Well, I’m so glad.” Tried to pull it together so the guys wouldn’t tease Connor too bad about her showing up.
Grasping her upper arms, her husband looked deep into her eyes. “I’m here, and I’m okay. Sure, we had a bad afternoon. But, babe, this is my job.” He shifted in front of her like he didn’t want the guys to see her.
Embarrassment hosed her. But the icy chill around her heart was melted by a jubilant, hot flush. The horrible pictures that had flashed through her mind receded. She wanted to crow from the rooftops. Climb the darn flagpole. Her imperfect world had been restored—the greatest gift she could ever receive this Christmas.
He guided her toward the front of the station, her dad trailing behind. “Would you take her home, Bill? I’ll be home when the shift ends. See you in the morning.”
Right. She’d be waiting for him that night, and he damn well knew it.
She should have felt silly, but she didn’t. Just relieved and suddenly very hungry.
“See you soon, babe.” He kissed her again.
Had his lips ever felt this tender?
Tonight, she had her life back. Gratitude left her limp.
Reluctantly, she pulled away from his puzzled smile and turned to leave.
“Stop worrying. Can you do that for me?” The words Connor threw at her back made her wheel around to drink him in with her eyes, one hearty visual gulp that would have to do…for now.
Her dad took her arm. Connor trailed them out. The other guys busied themselves. They sure as heck knew what was going on. Every wife or girlfriend harbored Amanda’s fears. More than one man took out his phone, trying to look casual as he strolled into a more private area to make a call.
“Any word from McKenna or Angie?” Connor asked while her dad pulled the car up.
“Talked to McKenna. No word from Angie. McKenna doesn’t know anything.” Just an hour ago, that had all been so important.
Her dad opened her door as if she were an invalid. Poor guy looked so worried. Thank goodness he’d been there with her tonight.
“Shoo. Go back inside. I’m fine.” She motioned to her husband with both hands.
One more kiss on the cheek and Connor backed away, straightening his shoulders so the guys didn’t tease him too bad about the PDA, not that anyone would dare question Connor Kirkpatrick.
Amanda collapsed into the front seat, limp as a noodle. Across the way, tiny white lights sparkled on fir trees in front of a small bungalow. Her world readjusted. With a shivery sigh, she slipped back into Christmas, a time to be glad.
“You okay, little girl?” her dad asked, pulling away from the firehouse.
Little girl. He hadn’t called her that in a long time. A billboard on the corner caught her eye. “Fine, Daddy. Just hungry. Can we drive through McDonald’s for an eggnog shake?”
“You bet.”
Her father snapped on the radio and Little Town of Bethlehem came on. She settled back, letting the lyrics sink in. In no time, they were driving through the carryout lane at Mcdonald’s and Dad was handing her a shake as if she were ten again.
“Don’t know how you can drink that when it’s freezing outside.” Despite his grumbling, her dad wore a little smile like he was secretly pleased. He pulled back out into traffic, which had picked up. Last minute shoppers must be headed down to Lake Street, the main drag in Oak Park.
“Trust me. It’s yummy.” The eggnog shake had never tasted this good. “You should have gotten one.”
“Not on my diet.”
“Oh, sorry.” Her dad followed his cardiologist’s guidelines.
“Never liked them anyway.” He fell quiet.
Listening to the music, Amanda imagined she was back in middle school and Dad was taking her to night rehearsal for her Christmas concert. When she was growing up, he played chauffeur for Amanda and her friends. After she got her license, she kind of missed those times together in the car. Her father had been the main man in her life until she met Connor.
They pulled into the driveway, and Amanda’s mother stuck her head out the door. She must have been watching for them. Her gray hair lifted on the cold breeze that set the lights dancing on the bushes. “Everything all right?” She clutched her burgundy fleece bathrobe tight around her neck.
Amanda got out and slammed the car door shut. “Get back inside, Mom. You’ll catch your death a cold.”
“Donna, what are you doing out here?” Her father ushered both of them into the warmth of the house. “Connor got out fine. Everything’s right as rain.” Her dad kissed his wife on the cheek, something Amanda didn’t see very often.
“Thank goodness. Oh, my.” Her mother’s face slackened with relief while her dad closed and locked the door behind him.
Shrugging off her coat, Amanda hung it up in the closet before taking her empty cup out to the kitchen to pitch it. Her red Christmas hot pads and the dish towels decorated with holly berries—it all looked so cozy, so welcoming. This was their home, hers and Connor’s. The thought warmed her heart.
“Coffee?” Her mother brightened, heading straight for the coffee maker.
“Oh, I don’t think so, thanks. We stopped for a shake.” Amanda sagged against the counter while her mother opened the bag of coffee, the familiar scent reminding her she was home and all was well.
“Think I’m going to watch the late news.” Her dad looked ready to collapse.
“I’ll bring your coffee out when it’s done, Bill.” After starting the pot, her mother cracked open the refrigerator. “Guess you had your eggnog, but I could sure use some about now. Sure you don’t want anything?”
Amanda shook her head and pulled out a kitchen chair. She felt wired. No way could she sleep just yet. And she sure didn’t want to watch more footage of that fire on the news.
Her mother poured herself a small glass of eggnog and tucked the container back into the fridge. Bringing the glass back to the table, she sat down with a sigh.
“You must be exhausted,” Amanda said. “That long drive and then this. Sorry, Mom. Didn’t mean to worry you but…”
When her mom reached over to squeeze Amanda’s hand, her skin felt paper thin and dry. Her folks were getting old. The thought shook her. “Oh, I have plenty of time to rest. You worry way too much, Amanda. Always have. From the very start, you wanted the world to be perfect. Why, your dollhouse was so neat and tidy, I wanted to move right into it. I sure did.”
They both laughed. Her father had made the dollhouse for her one Christmas. How her friends had admired the dainty prints of the real wallpaper in every room. Amanda actually used to dust the tiny furniture.
“I’m just trying to get my life in order…,” she began.
The tumbler of eggnog hit the table with a thunk. “There. You see? Life isn’t like that, sweetheart. Most of the time it turns out, well, just the way it should.” Her mother was good at giving advice she herself did not follow.
Looking back, Amanda had to agree. After all, she did marry Connor. “Maybe you’re right, Mom, but this baby thing…I never dreamed it would be this hard.” Her voice caught on the last word. Hadn’t she just promised the universe that she would never ask for another thing? Gratitude still stretched the confines of her mind.
Her mother ran a fingertip around the lip of her glass. “You know, we tried for another baby for so long after we had you. Didn’t happen. You were all that was in the plan for us, I guess, and you were more than enough. We always felt so grateful to have you. After all, I was older when I married your father. Well into my thirties when I had you.”
More than enough. Amanda’s mind circled those words.
“Tonight was a big wake-up call for me, Mom. If I lost Connor, if anything every happened to him, I just don’t know.” Her throat closed.
“But it didn’t.” Her mother was around the table in a minute. Her soft fleece robe pillowed Amanda’s cheek when her mom hugged her. “You do have him, and you two love each other so much. Some day you’ll have a baby. You’ll see. Why, even if this adoption doesn’t work out, if that girl decides she wants her baby, something else will come along. I just know it.”
Amanda wiped her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
When the coffee was ready, her mother carried a steaming mug into the living room. Amanda heard her say, “Why, Bill Treadwell, are you sleeping?”
By the time Amanda got to the door, her dad was on his feet, eyes bleary and scratching his head. Her mom was trying to turn off the TV with the remote. Amanda took it from her hands. “Why don’t you two go up to bed?”
Didn’t take much to persuade them. Her mother was already steering Dad toward the stairs.
Amanda clicked the TV off. “I might stay up a while.”
“See you tomorrow then. I’m going to make dinner tomorrow night. Don’t you worry about a thing, it being your last day of school and all,” her mother threw over her shoulder.
Amanda made the rounds, locking the doors and leaving the outside lights on for Conner. She stopped in front of the tree. Many of the ornaments were from her childhood or Connor’s. The rocking horse ornament Mrs. Pendergast, their teacher, had given her in play school. The bread dough letter “C” Connor had made in kindergarten. She smiled and clicked off the lights. Tomorrow night, she’d have time to sit down and enjoy the tree.
Tiny white lights dotted the hillside of books be
hind the crèche set. Amanda hesitated for just a second, waiting for that tiny twinge around her heart when she looked at the empty cradle.
Not tonight.
Tonight her life was more than enough. Turning off the tiny white lights, she felt around under the white sheet until her fingers found the baby Jesus figurine she’d hidden there. Christmas Eve she’d place the figure in the cradle. Comforted, she dragged herself upstairs to bed.
Shortly after Amanda snuggled down in the sheets, she heard the opening and closing of the bathroom door and then all was quiet. Turning onto her side, she ran one hand down the other side of their queen size bed, from the pillow to the pocket where Connor usually lay on his stomach like a little boy.
She must have been dozing when she heard Connor’s pickup. The side door opened downstairs and Connor’s footsteps were quick on the stairs. Always amazing how a guy his size could be so light on his feet. Probably from his basketball days. He edged into the room, and she watched him kick off his boots and pull his T-shirt over his head. Moonlight illuminated his square-jawed profile and sculpted chest. His comfy sleep shorts soon replaced the jeans. When he began to carefully pull the cover aside, she threw it wider and opened her arms.
“Babe.” With no hesitation he slid into her warmth, his lips devouring her, like she was breakfast and he was ravenous.
“Oh, Connor,” she murmured softly.
He silenced her with his lips before working his way down her long neck. “I’m here, and I’m fine.”
“What about my parents?” she whispered as he slipped off her flannel PJs. Their second floor was so small. But, oh goodness. His skin burned against hers like he’d been stoking this fire all the way from the station.
“We’ll be quiet.”
She heard the smile in his voice. Hooking one leg over his thigh, she pulled him closer. They were good at making quiet love. After all, they’d visited her parents’ condo in Florida. She’d swallow every moan if it killed her.
