12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Nick
George from the community center loading dock called at nine fifteen to say there was a delivery.
I told him to sign for it and bring it to Bay Two.
Nothing different from what happened with equipment orders and supply restocks and the various things a functioning fire department required on a regular basis.
Why he felt the need to call me about a delivery today was beyond my understanding.
I was on the phone with the county maintenance department about the ladder truck when Jo appeared in my doorway.
“You see what's happening in Bay Two?”
“No,” I said without looking up. “What's going on?”
“What exactly did you order?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?”
“You must have ordered more than that. It looks like a cardboard convention out there.”
That got me out of my chair in a hurry.
“George called and said he had a delivery. I thought it was our normal stuff.”
“Well, he wasn't lying.” Jo fell in next to me. “That's one hell of a delivery.”
I rounded the corner into the bays and stopped.
“This had to be the cops,” I said as I gawked at the five heaping pallets loaded with boxes. “What did those asses do this time?”
“Wrong, it wasn't them,” Thompson answered me. “They're all marked for Brandy Wilson.”
“What?”
I read the shipping sticker on the nearest pallet.
Cap was sniffing with the focused attention of a detective working a scene. I moved from pallet to pallet. Each one had the same information.
Brandy Wilson, Community Ambassador, c/o Denture Fire Department.
In care of the Denture Fire Department?!?
“Does anyone know what the hell this is?” I asked and got a series of ‘no’s in return.
“No one knows?” The same series of ‘no’s came back to me. “Someone call her and let her know HER pallets have arrived and SHE can come collect them.”
Brandy's bright, cheerful voice rang out from Jo's phone speaker.
“Hey, Jo, what's—”
“Why here?” I called out before I could stop myself, feeling the anger growing.
“Hey, Brandy,” Jo said in a nice calm voice.
“Why are they in my bay?” I snapped.
“She can't answer if you don't give her a chance,” Jo pointed out, glaring at me.
The other end of the call was silent.
“So,” Jo continued pleasantly, “it seems we have gotten a delivery for you.”
“Already? Wow, that was quick. Can you set it aside?”
“Aside?” I threw my hands out. “WHERE?”
“How many came?” Brandy asked.
“Five pallets,” four voices said at the same time.
Brandy gave a small squeal. “Dang, they must have sent the whole order at once. I'll be right there.”
“She's on her way,” Jo reported as if we hadn't heard Brandy.
“Some of these boxes are massive. How'd George move them?” Scott asked, measuring his waist next to a box.
“Forklift,” Thompson told him. Then he looked at me. “I saw him.”
I blew out a breath.
Brandy arrived twelve minutes later with an oversized, thick clipboard from which she pulled a paper.
“Damn, that looks like a lot of boxes, huh?” she laughed. “I can't believe they all got here at once.”
She walked around the pallets.
“Wow.”
Then she eyed me, pursed her lips, and put a hand up.
“Now, before you say anything—”
“Five pallets, Brandy.”
“I know, I know. I meant to tell you about the delivery, but I got busy at work. Then we had the spigot situation, and it completely—”
“So, you didn't think we needed to know about this?” I snapped.
“I said I was going to tell you.” Brandy grimaced. “It just slipped my mind.”
“You should have talked to me.” I stopped and took a breath to keep my voice level. “Why did you have them delivered here?”
“They're for the Summerween celebration. I got an incredible deal. The company was having a clearance sale and I just...” She raised her eyebrows and gestured toward the pallets. “I couldn't help myself.”
“All of this,” I pointed, “is for that event?”
“Yes. I don't have room at my office, so I thought—”
I cut her off. “For the event we're not having?”
“Oh, we're having the event.” Brandy's hands went to her hips. “That's not an option anymore.”
I put my hands on my hips to match her. “And what makes you think that?”
“Well, for one...” Taking a step closer to me, Brandy pointed with both hands at the heaping pallets.
I took a step closer to her. “Just because you sent them here doesn't mean the event is happening.”
“Number two.” Brandy's hands were back on her hips as she advanced another step. “We already have several businesses involved.” She took another step. “Number three, I bought that stuff on clearance and I can't return it. Plus, the mayor's already approved it.” She took another step.
With my step, I finished the distance between us, leaving no more than six inches separating us. I looked down at her face.
“That's number four, and I don't care what the mayor said. We. Are. Not. Having Summer Weenie here.”
Brandy huffed out a breath. “Stop calling it that. And yes, yes, we are having the event here, and you”—she put a finger on my chest—”you better get used to the idea, and damn quick.”
From somewhere behind me, I heard a noise like someone sucking in air.
Having forgotten there were people in the bay with us, we both turned to look.
Brandy's finger was still planted in the middle of my chest.
The three of them, Jo, Thompson, and Scott, were standing shoulder to shoulder wearing the biggest grins. Sitting next to Jo was Cap, his head cocked the way it got when he was intently listening.
“Sorry. By all means, continue,” Jo said.
“Yeah, don't let us interrupt you,” Thompson added.
Scott jumped in. “Unless you can pause this so I can make popcorn, because this situation calls for popcorn.”
I glanced at Brandy, who hadn't moved a muscle and looked just as mad.
“Don't you three have work to do?” I asked.
Nobody moved. They just shook their heads no.
“I suggest you find something to do unless you want to be washing Engine One with toothbrushes.”
“Nope, I've got stuff to do.” Jo started toward the door.
“Yes, us too.” Thompson grabbed Scott's shirt.
“I don't have anything.” Scott was being pulled along by Thompson. “I want to stay and watch.”
Once the audience was gone and only Cap remained, sitting by himself, Brandy and I stood eyeing each other.
Standing this close to her, I could smell her perfume. Soft and floral. Like a spring day.
“You have nice green eyes,” Brandy said in a quieter voice.
Shocked, I wasn't sure what to say, so I went with, “Thanks.”
Brandy removed her hand from my chest and took a step back.
What's that look for?
“Ah, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the pallets.” Brandy tucked a strand of hair back into place. “I should have.”
“It's alright.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“Nick, we're having Summerween.”
I gazed at her for a moment.
“We'll see about that. I'll send someone out to help you with these.”
I stepped to the side and started toward the door when she called after me.
“Nick, can you help?”
Turning, I eyed her.
“Please?” Brandy tilted her head to one side. “Maybe if you see what Summerween is about, you'll be less against it.” She raised her eyebrows. “Can you try?”
As if to cast his vote, Cap moved to Brandy's side, sat down, and let out a pitiful whine.
“How do you say no to that?” Brandy asked, resting her hand on the dog's head. “If you won't do it for me, do it for him.”
“Fine, I'll help.”
I pivoted back the way I'd originally been going.
After a moment, Brandy called, “Wait, I thought you were going to help.”
“I am.”
I picked up the phone and heard my voice echo over the loudspeaker.
“Everyone to the bay.”
I hung up the receiver.
“There's a lot of shit there. We're not doing it all on our own.”
I wasn’t the smartest when it came to women and their expressions. Far from it.
But this time I could tell Brandy was relieved.
“Thank you.” She smiled, grabbing her clipboard.
“What's up, boss?” Scott emerged through the door, followed by Jo and then Thompson.
Scott spotted Brandy.
“Brandy, you're still here. That's a good thing.” He leaned against Thompson. “Right?”
Thompson nodded yes.
“Alright.” I pointed toward the pallets. “We need these out of the bay. Since Brandy can't return them, we need to find a place to store them. For now, let's put them in the corner over there.”
I pointed to the farthest corner of the bay.
“They shouldn't be in the way over there.”
“Sweet! Brandy, what's in them?” Scott motioned to the first pallet.
“We don't need to know—”
I started, but Brandy spoke over me.
“Decorations,” she said.
“All of these?” I failed to keep the shock out of my voice.
“Oh, I want to see,” Thompson said. “Can we open them?”
“No.”
“Yes, for sure.” She smiled at them. “We have to. That way we can keep them organized.”
I opted to pick my battle.
“Fine.”
“Yes!” all three firefighters said simultaneously. They all pulled out their Leatherman’s and started ripping the plastic coverings off the pallets.
“Woof!”
Cap jumped up and jogged around a pallet.
Jo, who got her plastic off first, grabbed a box, opened it, and pulled out a large brightly colored cutout bat in orange and neon green. She held it up and turned it around.
“Oh, that's fun. We're having a debate at home on how to decorate the front. I'm going to send Ruthie a picture of this.”
Thompson reached into a different box and came up with a ghost wearing a flower lei like the kind you got in the tropics. He held it at arm's length.
“It's saying spooky and floral at the same time.”
He made it dance back and forth.
I rolled my eyes.
Scott had both arms buried in a different box entirely and came up holding a neon pink skeleton. With some maneuvering, he got it unfolded and held it up.
“This is a skeleton.”
Scott looked at it, then looked in the box, then at the Halloween bat in Jo's hands. His expression changed as if he was connecting dots that had been right in front of him.
“Hey,” Scott said. “That's a ghost, and Jo has a bat. These are Halloween decorations. But who's ever seen a pink skeleton?”
The bay went quiet and all our eyes went to Scott.
“Who's going to tell him?” Jo asked.