Chapter 29
LONDON
Mama straightens my lapels, her head tilting sideways as I look at the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. The formal uniform firefighters wear comes out for very few occasions, and this is one I never wanted to don the dress uniform for.
“You did your best by him, bubba. That’s all anyone can ask. Hold your head high, my love. Make your crew proud.”
I barely manage a nod as tears streak down the small amount of makeup I put on for today, my chin wobbling.
“You need me to drop you off?” she asks, tucking my white gloves into my hip pocket.
“No, Owens is picking me up. Thanks.”
We move to the couch, and I turn the cap in my hands as we wait for Heidi. My gaze is snagged on the floor when Mama says, “That’s not all of it, is it?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, almost choking myself in the process. Eventually, I whisper, “No.”
Her warm hand rubs circles over my back as I try to inhale and exhale in a calm fashion. From the second I came to on that sidewalk, nothing has been calm. Or right.
“Is it Miles? Your captain?”
My eyes drift closed.
“He’s not my captain anymore.”
“Why?”
I turn my head to Mama, pinning her with an undeserved incredulous look.
“Oh, I see.”
I huff a strangled sound. I have royally fucked every single thing that meant something to me. I broke my promise. I couldn’t save Davey, and I let down the entire crew when Miles was reassigned.
“I don’t know how to move past any of it.”
Mama hugs me into her side. “My love, seldom do we move past the hard things. Most of the time we simply must walk through it, yeah?”
“Why?” My face tightens as I study hers.
“Because, my sweet, brave, incredible daughter, what’s on the other side is more than worth it.”
I know we’re not talking only about Davey or Miles now, but our entire life. The decisions Mama made for the both of us.
How hard she fought to give me a normal damn life so I could do the very thing I wanted to do.
I straighten as a car horn honks outside our apartment and set my shoulders back. “I should go.”
“I’ll see you tonight. Or not, if you need to talk to Miles.”
I—
My mouth opens, but she grabs my chin in her hand. “Don’t throw one thing away over the other. Life is never that black and white. We know this, hey.” Her forehead presses to mine.
With a quick, tight hug, I leave the apartment, shutting the door behind me and making my way to the small blue car on the curb where Owens stands, her dress uniform on, her cap in her hands.
“Wasn’t sure you were going to come down,” she says, greeting me with a hug as I reach her little car.
“The thought crossed my mind more than once.”
“In the car, so I can reprimand you accordingly.”
I huff a laugh and she rounds the car as I drop into the passenger’s seat.
We pull away from the curb and Heidi glances at me. “How you doing?”
“Still breathing.”
“I see that. But I meant in here,” she says, patting a hand over her heart.
Her long blonde hair is up in a bun, earrings in her ears, and light makeup much like mine. She’s neat as a pin and so pretty. I rarely see her dressed up.
Her blue eyes snap to me again when we slow for traffic. “Miles is worried about you, London.”
I let my focus drift out the window.
I don’t know how to respond to that.
I miss him so bad it hurts all over.
But every time I think about being with him, being fucking happy, guilt takes me down in one swift blow. Davey was just starting to build a life. He’d met someone. He was stupid happy over texting the nurse he met. Now . . .
“London?”
“Yeah?” I turn my head to meet her gaze.
“You signed up for this, right?”
Firefighting?
“I did.”
“And you know the risks we take every shift.”
“I do.”
I think I know where this is going.
“Babe, the bad things hurt, but that’s the entire reason we keep doing what we do. So the good things stand a damn chance. You know Davey would want you to keep going.”
“We don’t know what he’d want; he’s not here.”
The rest of the car ride goes by in a suffocating silence, and when we reach the cemetery Davey’s grandmother chose, the Green-Wood Cemetery, we pile out of the car. I can finally draw a breath as I slide my gloves on.
53 stands by the curb, polished to a shine. My hands still ache from the hours I spent on her yesterday. 43, her comrade in arms right now, by her side.
White seats stand in two groups, a wide aisle between them. Firefighters from across the city fill the grassed area. The old weeping trees of the cemetery are dotted throughout the rows upon rows of headstones.
The place is depressing.
The day’s milky sunlight stretches through the trees, and I walk behind Owens as she navigates the uniforms to find our crew.
Sandy meets us by a group of civilians who are sobbing, some consoling others. And I spot two women, one old and frail and one around my age hugging her close to her side.
They must be Davey’s grandma and his girlfriend.
Oh fuck.
My chest caves before the weight over it ratchets to a crushing sensation.
I can’t do this.
I spin back, running straight into the captain.
“Tennison, how are you holding up?”
I stare at the old tree mere feet away, waiting for the burn in my throat to fade. “Fine, sir.” The words are barely audible.
“You’re flanking right. Hammond behind you. Sandy, Owens, take the other side.”
What is he talking about?
When everyone moves, Hammond taking up my spot at the front of the casket, weakness flushes through me.
“Tennison,” Sandy calls, glancing to Owens, who shakes her head. “One last call for our guy, okay?”
I can’t see.
I can’t breathe.
The cemetery around me blurs with the onslaught of tears that spills over.
A hand touches my arm. “Are you London?” a weak, wobbly voice says.
I turn back to find Davey’s girlfriend.
God, I wish I could remember her damn name.
“Yeah.”
Her face breaks as she breathes through a sob. “He adored you, you know. He always used to joke that he wanted to grow up to be like Tenny when he graduated. No matter how many times I reminded him you guys were literally both probies. Thank you for making his year—well, nine months—good ones.”
I stare at her, my reaction so slow she squeezes my arm and walks back to Davey’s grandmother.
I open my mouth to tell her how incredible Davey was, but silence is the only thing I can manage.
“It’s time, Tennison,” Captain says from behind.
Hauling in a deep lungful, I turn and take up my place at the back opposite Heidi, my white-gloved hand curling around the chrome handle of the casket.
The box feels too damn light. My heart is heavier at this rate. A somber paradox I refuse to investigate.
We start moving down the aisle, now lined with servicemen and -women in salute. Bag pipe song bursts through the air between the trees, tangling around the cemetery as folks stand in their seats, and we walk on.
Gaze burning into Hammond’s back, I watch as his shoulders move. We may as well be miles apart, and I did that. I push down the overwhelming hurt and set my focus on the end of the aisle. Our strides are spaced and stilted. Much like the despondent, broken timing of each beat of my heart.
Folks stand as we carry Davey down the aisle toward a freshly dug hole in the ground bordered by makeshift chrome railing. The American flag is draped over his casket. A wreath of white flowers sits in the center.
We pass the front row of seats, and his grandmother cries, a long wailing sound that could shatter every hurting heart here. Tears roll over my cheeks despite my efforts to tamp them back, and I ignore them when I fail.
Lowering the casket to the straps suspended over the grave, we take a step back in unison, saluting Davey for the last time. I can’t drag my gaze from the casket. Can’t separate myself from the happy, sweet guy the polished wood now contains.
A hand closes around my elbow, and I turn back to find Heidi, her face wrecked as she nods toward the front row of seats on the opposite side to the family.
I sink into the seat by her side, Sandy on my other, as the preacher starts his piece.
The words are a far echo, muddled together, as my body vibrates on the chair, breaths chugging past my lips.
My gloved hands wring in my lap.
Captain stands and walks to the head of the casket. We all rise. “We bid a final farewell to a friend. Firefighter James Davies has completed his tour of duty in this life. Be safe until we meet again.” Captain salutes one last time and we all repeat the motion.
Somewhere behind me, bells ring out.
53’s bells.
Three rings sound out.
The echoes of them tangle through the sobs and steely silence that are like opposites warring.
Three rings. Second set . . .
Every muscle is rigid as I try to inhale and exhale in a calm, regular fashion. It doesn’t take, and I’m all but convulsing from the effort to hold in the hurt.
Dong.
A ragged breath leaves my chest.
Dong.
I pull in a shallow, burning breath.
Dong.
I choke on the parcel of air.
The preacher says something I can’t make out, and the casket lowers into the ground. Sobbing wails through the air, and sniffles drown out the sound of the small winch lowering Davey to rest.
Davey’s grandma steps forward, tossing flowers and the first handful of dirt onto the casket now deep in the ground, and Captain breaks the salute. We all do the same.
My arm trembling from holding the salute for so long, I hug it to my side as I choke out, “Bye, bud.”
Kel wraps his arm over my shoulders in a warm hug. A Cavoodle pup sits at our feet as we soak up the last ray of the day’s milky, lukewarm sunshine. One of the newest residents at the shelter, she needs long walks and lots of love.
Something I can relate to lately.
The breeze shifts, tussling my hair around my neck and shoulders. Autumn is so close I can smell it. The air has changed, it’s cooler, that hint of winter’s hue riding on summer’s coattails . . . it’s my favorite time of year.
It’s been six weeks since we said goodbye to Davey and work has been—autopilot is the only way to describe it.
I’ve been on autopilot.
“How about you and I take some vacay time?” Kel squeezes my arm. “Or not, if you’re not up to it.”
“It’s not that—”
“Babe, we know your heart is broken, but I say this with love. You can’t stop living, okay? Beating yourself up and pushing every single person who loves you away won’t bring him back.”
I can’t look at Kel.
I know he’s right.
But I got scared, and I did exactly that.
Being apart from Miles has been hard. Going to work has been hard.
I never realized how much Davey and Miles made my shifts bearable.
Sandy and Owens are great, and the new transfer we got to replace Miles.
But it’s not the same. The way we work together is kind of awkward. We’re not a family anymore.
Heidi would hate it if she knew I felt that way.
She’s been trying so hard to make things more palatable. Watching Sandy watch her try so hard and get nowhere with me makes my heart ache for them both. And Miles.
I know it was only the beginning for us, but we had that kind of . . . love?
I shake my head like I can toss the thoughts from my mind.
“Your big man came to the shelter last week,” Kel starts.
“What? Is Petal okay?” I flick my gaze to him and scan his face.
“She’s fine. It was you he was worried about. He thought maybe you’d been spending your downtime with us, since he hadn’t heard from you.”
“Oh.”
My chest is too tight.
Sadness closes its iron grip around my heart.
“London, let the man back in already. You say you’re getting on with it and want to move forward. If you ask me, that’s how you do it.”
“I’m not sure . . .”
“Well, darling, I am.”
He pats my legs and stands. “I’ll see you here next week, same time. And I expect a progress report on that man of yours.”
“Kel,” I warn.
He holds a hand up like it’s a stick up. “Or just all the juicy deets.”
I sigh, leaning forward to say goodbye to the pup. She licks my hand and wags her tail like she has not a care in the world.
Oh, to be a doggo. Wouldn’t that make life far more simple.