Passion Point Firefighters: Extended Collection

by Brynn Hale

  “Just leave Deac.”

  “No, we will not.” A woman’s voice calls out.

  “Jessica.” I mumble her name and Boscoe smirks. “Get out, all of you!” I bellow out, but no one moves.

  She squats down next to the recliner. “Dairen, hey, we’ve all be hurt.”

  “Not like this.”

  “No, not like that. We’ve all been hurt in our own way and we can’t say how you’re feeling isn’t right, but we can say that doing this—whatever it is—isn’t good for you.”

  There’s got to be fifteen people in my living room. Fifteen people gathered in one place for me. To get me off my sorry ass.

  “Please. Just get out…” I turn up the TV.

  One by one they file back out.

  Boscoe, Deacon, and Jessica are the only ones who stay.

  “Bro, I’m sorry about the doc, but you’ll find someone—”

  “Don’t say it,” I growl through my teeth.

  He backs away like I’ve just foamed at the mouth. It’s possible.

  I look up at Jessica. “Please, sis, just go.”

  “Okay. But…you and me, dinner at Seasons 617 tonight. You promised you’d take me there.”

  “He can take you.” I motion to Boscoe.

  She grabs my hand. “But I want my oldest brother to take me. Please…”

  “That’s where she and I had our first date,” I mumble, but I stay stoic. Emotions have left me. I’m empty of whatever makes me human right now.

  “Then we’ll drink, eat, and learn that things can still be okay, even if they aren’t great.”

  She was right. They’re all right…except Keegan. He can fuck off. I’d be having him shine the truck for weeks after that comment on my odorous situation, and I’m thinking Boscoe just might. Keegan’s a cocky S.O.B. and I’m thinking there’s a woman out there that could wipe the floor with his attitude. I’m hoping it happens soon.

  I flip the chair down and they applaud.

  “I’m not shaving,” I declare.

  Jessica’s face grimaces. “But you are going to shower, right?”

  I chuckle. “Yes, I’ll shower.”

  I ignored every text and phone call for three weeks. I was lucky they hadn’t rammed the door.

  I stop. I turn. “Who the fuck picked my door lock?”

  Their eyes dart from mine.

  “Who?” I ask again.

  “I don’t know, it just magically opened,” Deacon finally says.

  They know if it was one of the new fire fighters, I’d have them licking the chrome on the truck clean, so they’re going to stay quiet. Don’t blame them, but I’ll still find out. I have my ways.

  In twenty minutes, I’m in regular clothes. I have to actually throw out the clothes I was wearing. Damn.

  I’m in my car and Jess is right beside me. Kelton and Deacon said they’ll meet me at Sooty Boot later, if I want. I want to, but it’s probably not productive to drink. Heavily.

  We walk into Season 617. For a Friday it’s a slow night. The music plays “All of Me” by John Legend. I’ve listened to too many sappy fucking love songs. I still have testicles. I checked them in the shower. They’re there; they’re just miserable, too.

  Reese’s face lights up. “Dairen…Jess!” She hugs both of us and I thank God that showered. “You smell good.” She smiles as she backs away.

  Jessica laughs and mumbles, “If you only knew.”

  I jab her with my elbow.

  Reese grabs menus. “Table for two or someone joining you?”

  I wrap my arm around Jessica’s shoulders. “Just us.”

  “Follow me.”

  I want to feel better, but I’m not sure how long it will take for that to happen. If it happens at all. If I thought I felt miserable with acute eosinophilic pneumonia, I had no clue how far down I could go in the miserable tunnel. While I was sick, I was basically still standing there with my head out of the tunnel. Now I’m in the depths, hearing hell.

  I look around the room. Part of me hopes…

  But she’s not here.

  I tried texting her the first couple of days, but I got nothing.

  I pull out my phone. It’s been 21 days since we talked last.

  “What can I get you to drink?” the wait staff asks.

  “Water, please,” Jess replies.

  “Same,” I say.

  The server reads off the night’s specials.

  “I’ll have the fish,” I say and Jess choses the beef dish.

  “Share?” she asks.

  “Sure.”

  My phone lights up. 9-1-1?

  “Hello?” I answer with confusion.

  “Is this Dairen Westwood?”

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Hi Dairen, this is Elana at 9-1-1. I have a paramedic on the line from Station 1. Transferring to him.”

  “Hey, Dairen, it’s Jasper. Your number is the emergency contact for—”

  “Parker Lakeman?”

  “Yes. Do you know if she has a breathing problem? Asthma? COPD?”

  I shake my head. “Not as far as I know.” I stand. “What’s happening?”

  “She seems to be struggling to—”

  I search the recesses of my mind. “Her car. I saw an allergy bracelet! Hanging from the mirror.”

  “Do you know what it is?”

  I think back…I remember her asking for no peanuts that first dinner here. I race to find Reese.

  “Reese, Reese?!”

  She comes from the kitchen. “Dairen, what’s wrong?”

  “Is Parker allergic to peanuts?”

  “Yes. She is.”

  “Jasper, it’s peanuts. Did she—”

  Reese pulls on my arm. “Oh, my God. She ordered take out. I didn’t mark no peanuts.”

  “It’s peanuts for sure, Jasper. Give her epinephrine, now. I’ll meet you at Sacred Heart.”

  “On our way…”

  The phone hangs up. Jessica meets me at the door.

  Reese has her coat on. “I’ll meet you there!” she calls out as she jumps in her car while she’s on her phone.

  I try to stay calm.

  “Give me the keys.” Jessica holds out her hand.

  “Oh, hell, no.” I shake my head, but with it, my hand shakes. “Fine!”

  She jumps in the driver’s seat and has to adjust everything it seems.

  “Come on!” I yell.

  She shakes her head. “Safety.”

  I cross my arms.

  Finally, we’re on the road and if she grinds from second gear to fifth one…more…time…I’m going to lose it. “Who taught you how to drive a stick?”

  “Mom did.”

  I shut up. In the recent weeks, I’ve started thinking about getting in touch with her. We’d become estranged after she had Jessica with her second husband, and Deacon and I stayed back with our father. But I’d recently, I learned that leaving people hurts and I’m sure it hurt mom to leave us and it hurt us when she left. I’m ready to reconcile and not let it keep us apart anymore. I know that Deacon feels the same.

  Jessica starts to get the hang of it and shifts smoothly. My heart calms, but only fractionally.

  She pulls into the ER bay. Exactly where I’d been just about nine weeks ago.

  I jump out and run into the ER. “Parker Lakeman…”

  “Are you family?” the receptionist asks.

  “Dairen!” Boscoe calls out and motions me down the hall.

  I ignore the receptionist and run toward him. “How is she?”

  “She’s okay. They had to give her a second shot of epinephrine, and some antihistamines and cortisone, so she’s going to be out for a little while.”

  “Did you ride here with her?”

  “Well, yeah. I knew you’d want someone you know with her.”

  I tackle him with a hug.

  “Glad you showered, dude,” he chokes out.

  “Sir, you’re going to have to wait in the waiting room and…”
/>   “He’s with me, Whitney.” The doctor who took care of me a few weeks back pokes his head out of the room.

  She heads off with a little huff.

  “She’s new. She’ll start to understand that sometimes we have to break the rules. Come on in, Dairen.”

  “Doc…” I walk backward. “Thanks, Boscoe. I owe you one.”

  “Anytime. Good luck!”

  The automatic sliding door slides closed again.

  I walk to the side without machines and look down on her. She only has an oxygen mask on, but her pulse ox is good. Her blood has plenty of oxygen. She’s breathing normally and her blood pressure is a little elevated, but to be expected.

  After a couple of hours and a glass of water, her eyes flutter and I brush the hair away from her face.

  “Hey, baby.”

  Her forehead crinkles. “I missed you.” Her green eyes shine with tears and they start to fall over the edge.

  “Hey, hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” I grab her hand and I hold on. They’ll have to surgically separate us at this point. “I guess I’m still the emergency contact in your phone.”

  “Ohhh. I thought maybe Boscoe called you.”

  “No, 9-1-1 did.”

  She yawns and stretches a little. “Wow, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

  “Is this the first time you’ve had a reaction that bad?”

  “Yeah, that was definitely bad-bad.” She rolls to her back and I can’t help but look at that chest.

  Oh, how I’ve missed you…and even more, the woman you’re attached to.

  But I have to be reasonable. Maybe this isn’t going to return to where we were. Maybe she’s met someone else. Maybe we’re still just not happening. I have to be careful. It took me three weeks to stand. If I go under again, I might never come back up. The backdraft of us is just too great to breathe through and a second time it would destroy me.

  I pull the chair to the bed. “Reese is in the waiting room. She feels really horrible that this happened.”

  “It happens. I’m okay.”

  “Did you try your Epi-pen first?”

  “I did, but I practically inhaled the food, and was watching…” She giggles. “Who Framed Roger Rabbit, so I wasn’t paying attention. I hadn’t eaten all day. I’ve been trying so hard to be the perfect doctor that I almost killed myself.”

  “But the Epi-pen didn’t work?”

  “Not well. I called 9-1-1…” Her chest hiccups. “Because I couldn’t call you and I hoped you would come save me.”

  I drop my head to the railing, the cool metal almost non-evident to me. I don’t stop them. She has to see how much she means to me. That day in the rain, I cried. She just couldn’t see the tears. But now, she has to see them.

  I raise my head. “I’m here. And I’ll stay here.”

  “Dairen, honey.” She brushes away the drips that hold my fears. “Don’t you have to work?”

  I’d done a lot of thinking over the last three weeks. I’d put seventeen years into my fire-fighting family. I wasn’t walking away. I applied for a new position in the Passion Point Fire Department to be the department’s connection to the paper, TV channels, and mayor’s office, to free up the fire chief for administrative work. He’d called me this morning for an interview. I just wasn’t quite ready and asked to do it on Monday.

  “I’m getting out being on the front line and I’m going to be back office.”

  She squeezes my hand. “I’ve put in my two weeks’ notice.”

  I try to stay calm. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’re just not going to work?” After being off of work for a few weeks, it sounded pretty damn nice to me but not realistic.

  “I took a job teaching because it’s the thing I realized I wanted to do instead.”

  “Wow. I’m going to look you up on SexyProfessor.com, aren’t I?”

  She laughs but starts coughing. “You can’t make me laugh!”

  “So…you and me?” I ask when she’s calmed.

  “I was going to come see you this weekend.” She purses her lips. “I hope…I hope you’re not seeing anyone.”

  I sigh. “Actually, there is this new blonde in my life. She’s soft in all the right places, she likes when I cuddle with her, and she’s not allergic to peanuts.

  Her mouth drops open. “What…already?”

  “It’s a recliner, baby. I’ve been at home for the last three weeks, acting like a lovesick fool, because I am a lovesick fool.”

  “I’ll heal you, Dairen.” She pulls off her oxygen mask.

  “Maybe we should stick to just living and less having to get healed?”

  She looks up into my eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?”

  I can’t stop the smile over my face. “Hey, that’s my line.”

  “And it works…” She grabs my shirt and pulls me down until my lips meet hers.

  Yes, it does.

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  Parker

  I finished up my first semester supervising student research projects in pulmonology. One of the student’s projects deals with acute eosinophilic pneumonia and it’s my favorite.

  I drive home. Our home. We both sold our houses in Passion Point and got a house out in the country. Two dogs—Dusty and Lady, two cats—Lovey and Dovey, and no peace between any of them.

  I look over at the paper bag in the passenger seat. I sigh. Sometimes you can’t plan life the way you think you can. Things change. You go with the flow. Or you don’t go with the flow and you end up buying a pregnancy test. Damn antibiotics cancelling out my pill—you’d think as a doctor I’d remember. But maybe this is just the next challenge for us.

  I pull into the driveway and there are ten vehicles outside. My hubby might want to live outside of the city, but he craves friends coming over and they do. I started calling the property, “The Sooty Boot 2”. Dairen wasn’t so excited about that, so they came up with “Hot Spot”. I didn’t know what that was, so they explained it to me. An area where there’s a possible fire or potential for fire. I didn’t really like my home being called that, but his shed, okay. Compromise. It was worth it.

  I walk into the house and into the kitchen. I’ve started cooking lessons because my cooking is apparently inedible and driving into Passion Point nightly for a meal isn’t going to happen.

  Dairen comes in the back door. “Hey, baby. How was your day?” he kisses my neck, in this spot where he knows what it does to me. It’s kind of my hot spot.

  “It was good. Semester is finished.”

  “Good deal. Hey, we’re out back. Got some burgers and brats on the grill.” He eyes up the paper sack. “You get the mustard?”

  I did. “It’s in the bag.” I motion with my head while washing my hands.

  Dairen reaches in and he pulls out the pregnancy test. He drops it back in the bag and grabs for the mustard. Then he stills.

  I lean back against the counter where the sink is. “Dairen?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, that’s what the test is for.”

  He pulls it out and with the face of a child on Christmas Day he says, “Now, do it now, please.”

  I smile. “Okay…”

  Three minutes.

  Archie sticks his head in the back door. “Dairen, you have a…flipper?” He steps in. “What’s up?”

  Dairen waves him away and Archie backs out slowly.

  The minutes feel like hours. I pick up the stick without looking.

  “You’re ready for this?” I ask him.

  “More than ready.”

  I flip it over so it’s facing him. I watch his face. His brown eyes flick to the readout area and then back to mine.

  His hands thread into my hair and he kisses my forehead. “I’m really sorry, baby.”

  I attempt to keep the smile on my face, but it fades quickly.

  Well, at fo
rty, it is possible I can’t get pregnant. I place the stick back on the box without looking. It’s too hard.

  He wraps his arms around me and kisses my lips. “Yeah, I’m sorry that you’re going to have to put up with two of us Westwoods now.”

  My legs falter and he’s right there to hold me up. “Really?”

  “Positive.”

  I glance over and sure enough, it is. I’m going to be a mom.

  If you’d have told me that this would be my life in two years, I would’ve scoffed and walked away, mumbling something to the effect of “crazy”. But it’s not so crazy now. In fact, the only thing that’s crazy is how much I love this man.

  He slips his hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “You wanna go…” His eyebrows flick up and down.

  “Dairen, we have guests.”

  “They’ll be fine.”

  I shake my head at him, but I grab his hand and pull him toward the stairs. “Five minutes.”

  “Ooooh, a quickie. I love those.”

  I turn around on the first stair, my eyes almost even with his now. “I love you.”

  “I’ll never love anything or anyone more than you.”

  I rub my stomach. “Just wait until you see this baby, you might just rethink that.”

  “We’ll see, but for now, you’re at the top of my HotMoms.com.”

  I laugh. “And you’re at the top of all of my lists—even my shit list, occasionally.”

  “I’ve still got it.” He puts his shoulder to my stomach and throws me over his shoulder, carrying me up the stairs.

  A fireman’s carry.

  No other way to travel.

  ~THE END~

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  ARCHIE

  Chapter One

  Josie

  I swear I can smell that salty, savory meat before I’m even close to the station. It’s the day of the Passion Point Fire Station #1 Annual Father’s Day BBQ event. My dad’s the resident winner, fifteen years running. Doesn’t hurt that he’s the Fire Chief for all the stations. But he does have the best BBQ. As his daughter, I’m probably not exactly unbiased. But as his daughter I’m also first in line to get to taste.

  It’s a blind taste test, but the five judges know my dad’s flavor profile and his ability to get that perfect bark, not to mention his smoky molasses sauce. His youth spent in Kentucky gave him lots of skills, including putting out fires, like the one that took his family when he was only sixteen. Sometimes, I think his dedication is in their memory.