Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
My first shift is over, and I’d be lying if I said it was anything but uneventful—which, yeah, is a good thing.
At least I kept my promise to Elijah. I smile to myself as I walk out of the fire station.
I can’t wait to tell him about the cow-crossing incident I assisted with last night.
It was exactly what it sounds like—a cow on the road.
We helped get it across with the assistance of the police officers, who were also eager to have something to do, I think. This first shift was a far cry from working my first shift in Kansas City.
I was terrified that day when my very first call was an apartment fire—but my adrenaline was pumping, and I felt so damn accomplished by the end after pulling numerous people to safety—like I had a purpose.
I think about my son’s sweet face and smile again. That kid never fails to make me smile. That’s for sure. He’s my purpose too.
I bump into someone. I guess I wasn’t paying attention, but I recognize the voice instantly when he says, “Hey, watch it, Mitchell.”
I grin at Will—happy to see him after so long. I think the last time I saw him was at his wedding. Shit, was that five or six years ago? Elijah was a baby. “You on duty?”
“Heading that way,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “Good to see you.”
“You too. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you this summer. I thought you and Bowen were attached at the hip.”
I notice Will flinch a little when I say that, and I’m not sure why. As far as I know, Bowen and he are just fine. “Yeah, uh... kind of been busy,” he says, motioning toward the station.
“Working doubles?”
“Yeah, the wife wants a bigger house,” he says with a smile, but I don’t know. Something seems off. Will was a lot like my brother, for as long as I can remember—the big jock type—but he was known as the nice one. He was always happy-go-lucky.
He doesn’t really seem that way now. “So how was the first shift?”
I snort dismissively. “Boring as fuck.”
He laughs. “Bite your tongue, man.”
I shrug. “I mean, I don’t want anyone in actual danger or anything. But fuck me, it was boring.”
He slaps his hand on my shoulder and grips it. “My first shift here was boring too. Hell, first week, but then the second week, it was like the town went nuts. Car accident after car accident. Brush fires that got out of hand. House fires. Hell, even a knife fight. So be careful what you wish for.”
“Yeah... I guess you’re right.” No matter what, there’s never a shortage of tragedy in the world. I’ve learned that more than anyone. I decide to shift subjects. “How have you been? How’s the wife, besides wanting a new house?”
His playfulness drops almost instantly, and I feel kind of bad about bringing it up, though I’m not sure why. Bowen hasn’t mentioned anything about their marriage not going well, but it’s certainly the way it seems, judging by his expression. “She’s good. Good. Fine.”
Yeah. For sure weird. “What about the kids?”
Now his face lights up, and it’s very real. “They’re great. Josie is starting preschool this year. Can you believe that shit? And Max is walking.”
I grin. “It goes by fast, that’s for damn sure.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“You should bring them by soon. Get the kids together. I know Bowen will be excited. The guy doesn’t shut up about you.”
Will laughs at that, shaking his head. “I swear, I shared my snack with him in kindergarten and haven’t been able to get rid of him since.”
“Yeah, the guy’s a clinger.”
He laughs joyfully at that, no shortage of love for my brother there. “I’ll do that. I’ll text Bowen and set it up. I gotta go.”
I wave goodbye and leave him to it as I drive back home to grab a little sleep before I pick up Elijah from school. I talked to him on FaceTime last night a little before bed, and he said he had a good first day, but he didn’t go into too many details.
I guess that’s pretty standard with kids though. I’m trying not to worry about screwing up his whole life by moving him away from what he knows—but I’m a parent, after all.
I’ll never stop worrying.
The smile Elijah gives me as he runs out of the school is bright and perfect, making me feel like maybe I was worrying too much. That is until I reach him, and his little arms wrap tightly around my neck. “You’re alive!”
Well, shit. “Of course I am,” I say, hugging him tight with his little face nuzzled in my neck. “I had one call the entire time, and it was a rowdy cow.” That makes him giggle, and I’m glad for it as I pull back enough to look at his face. “Did you have a good day?”
“Mm-hmm. I’m hungry though.”
I laugh. “You’re always hungry.”
“I’m a growing boy,” he says effortlessly and plays with the straps on his backpack. I take it from him and start toward the car when I see Spencer walking toward us, and I freeze. I know I was kind of an ass yesterday, but when it comes to my kid, I’m happy to be an ass when needed.
“Wasn’t sure if it would be you or Bowen today,” he says, stopping in front of my son and me.
“Twenty-four on, forty-eight off.”
He nods his head knowingly. “Yeah, Bowen mentioned you were a firefighter. I didn’t know that.”
Before I can make a snide remark about small-town gossip not being all that gossipy apparently, my son pipes up with excitement. “My dad is the best firefighter.” Pride soars through me until I watch his shoulders drop and his face go sad. “But then he died.”
“I fell,” I correct him, trying to keep the sharpness out of my tone.
I wish I could convince him I wasn’t that close to death that day.
“I didn’t die,” I say more softly. Elijah doesn’t say anything, and my heart feels brittle, like it might crack in half.
I glance at Spencer and can see his lips have thinned out in concern.
“We’re working on it,” I defend, and though I’m not sure he’s actually judging me, it feels like it.
It feels that way any time I’m in this situation.
With Tori. With the counselor. Not really with Bowen—but I suppose that’s because his life is the job.
He understands. But it’s hard to explain to anyone who isn’t a first responder.
The need to protect and save people. I see the judgment in people when they see the fear on my son’s face, and I get it.
It’s a conflict I’ve had since he was old enough to talk and understand what I do for a living. But then he brags about me being a firefighter or he tells me he’s proud of me, and it’s so validating. The highs and lows are constant though, an internal battle I fear I’ll never win.
Spencer doesn’t say anything to me. Instead, he kneels down in front of Elijah.
“You know, my first year of college, I was going to meet some friends at the movie theater, and this driver came out of nowhere, going the wrong way and ran right into my car.” I see my kid tense a little, and I wonder why Spencer is telling him this but find that he seems intrigued by the story, and I can’t really lie—I am too—so I don’t interrupt.
“The airbags went off and hit me square in the face, and I was in pain and scared.” For some reason, I don’t like hearing about this.
My entire body is rigid with rage, thinking about him in his car—possibly trapped. Scared and alone. I want to find the fucker who hit him and beat the shit out of him—which makes no sense.
“But you know what, Elijah?”
“What?” my son asks, clearly enthralled by the story.
“I heard the sirens, and then I saw the firetruck and their lights. I knew I was going to be okay then. Even though I’d never been in a situation where I needed firefighters to rescue me, I knew that meant they were there to help.”
“Did they?” Elijah asks quietly.
Spencer smiles. “They did. They got me out of the car and made sure I was okay. They made me feel safe.” I swallow hard, not sure why he’s telling my son this but grateful because Elijah looks pleased.
“I’m glad they were there, and I know your dad and others like him have helped so many people just like me.
I don’t know what the world would do without them. ”
Elijah lights up at that. “Yeah.”
Spencer grins and then stands up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Elijah.”
“Okay. Bye, Mr. Bell!” he says with a lightness in his tone, and I look at Spencer and smile at him gratefully. But while he was more than happy to be kind to my son, it seems that’s where it ends.
I just wind up with a cold nod before he leaves.
Well, okay. I guess at least he’s going to play nice with Elijah. That’s all that matters. I don’t care if the guy can’t stand me, for whatever reason.