Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
E MILY
The children in my kindergarten class are buzzing with excitement as we line-up outside the classroom, ready to go outside for our afternoon activity. Once a month, every spring, we have representatives from different safety related occupations come and talk to the children in kindergarten, first, and second grades about their jobs and safety related topics. We always ask the fire department to present for one of the days.
When the fire department comes for this presentation, it’s always a favorite of the kids. Thankfully, it’s a beautiful day out, so we can hold the entire session outdoors.
Once all the kids are outside and sitting on the ground, I find a good spot behind them where I can monitor them all during the program. Linette, the other kindergarten teacher, and Christine are standing with me. When the fire engine comes into view, the energy among the children is palpable. That’s one reason I love teaching kindergarteners—they haven’t lost the joy and awe about so many things that naturally fade as kids get older.
As Trina pulls the engine in and parks, one of the sweet girls in my class turns to her friend and says, “There’s a lady driving that fire truck. I didn’t know girls can drive fire trucks.” The elation in her voice is clear, and she’s practically bouncing when Trina and Charlie climb out of the engine. I smile to myself, and I’m filled with pride at my sister for breaking down traditional expectations and rocking it as a female firefighter.
Trina comes to stand in front of the kids and she’s in her dress uniform. When Charlie comes around from the passenger side, though, he’s in an Elladine Fire Department T-shirt, and those yellow pants with the suspenders—I think Trina said they’re called turnout gear—and he’s wearing his helmet. And, oh my, does it suit him. How those pants can look sexy, I don’t know. But Charlie Fitzgerald pulls it off big time. Not to mention his arm muscles are on display in that T-shirt and he definitely has book boyfriend arms.
Christine, standing between Linette and me, murmurs, “Well, slap my ass and pull my hair.” I practically choke on my saliva, letting out a little gasp as I turn to her. Linette just giggles and stares at Charlie.
“Jesus! Is there any man you won’t objectify, you perv?” Thank God, we’re standing back far enough from the kids that they didn’t hear her.
Christine shrugs, “Hey, I know what I like. But where have you been hiding this one? I haven’t seen him at any of your houses on book club nights and he is scrumptious.”
She’s not wrong.
“That’s because all our guy friends know to stay away when we have book club after that time you grabbed Jack’s ass.” My voice sounds scolding, but Christine knows I love her.
She sighs. “Ah, Jack. Now he’s hot.” She smiles and tilts her head, and I would swear that she’s remembering the feel of Jack’s butt cheek in her hand.
It’s actually a running joke among our guy friends—never be around when the ladies arrive for book club or risk being harassed by Christine. Her motto is that she’s in her fifties and a liberated woman, so she can do what she wants. We’ve yet to convince her that doesn’t mean grabbing the asses of unsuspecting men.
I shake my head at her and turn to look to at where Trina and Charlie are standing. Charlie has his gaze fixed on me, his smile to die for. I smile back and give him a little wave. When he winks at me in response, my lower belly flip-flops.
Get a hold of yourself.
Fortunately, I get the distraction I need when Trina introduces herself and Charlie as the program begins. These two do this program for us every year and the kids absolutely love it. My sister may appear a grump to those who don’t know her well—she’s not, she’s just guarded—but there is no evidence of that here. She’s delightful and engaging as she talks to the children, and the kids hang on every word she and Charlie say. Which is damn impressive when you consider how many kids are sitting here.
Trina tells the kids, in an age-appropriate manner, all about what a firefighter does, and then Charlie takes over with the fire safety portion. I can’t help but stare at him as he speaks. He walks around, making eye contact with the children, holding their attention. I know he’s passionate about this topic.
When it’s time for the children to ask questions, an adorable little girl sitting in the front row with pigtails and big ribbons in her hair raises her hand and Charlie calls on her. She looks at Trina when she asks her question.
“You’re a girl,” she says to Trina. Trina chuckles and nods. “Can any girl be a firefighter, or do you have to be special?”
Trina kneels before her and smiles. “Any girl can be anything they want. You don’t have to be special to be a firefighter, you just have to work hard.” God, my sister is so cool.
I watch the crowd of children and see smiles on the faces of many of the young girls, and I swear a few of them are sitting taller than they were a few minutes ago.
Trina and Charlie take a few more questions and take turns answering. One girl in my class raises her hand and Charlie calls on her.
“Are you married?” she asks him.
“I, um. I’m not. B-but I think it’s time?—”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” another girl asks, interrupting him. Charlie looks to Trina for help, but she’s just grinning.
Even from twenty feet back, the pink flush on his cheeks is visible, as is the fact that his eyes are as wide as golf-balls. I don’t miss when he quickly glances up at me and makes eye contact, holding my gaze for about two seconds.
Trina finally takes mercy on him and asks, “Are you all ready to take turns seeing inside the fire engine?”
Cheers and shout of assent fill the air. Charlie’s face visibly relaxes.
I’m watching him when Christine nudges me in the side with her elbow.
“What was that ?” She’s smirking now.
“What?” I ask.
“How he looked at you when Sheila asked if he had a girlfriend. Are you holding out on us at book club? You know we all share the deets of our love lives.”
“Um, no, we don’t all share. Not like you do anyway,” I tease her. “But seriously, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Charlie’s my friend. He was probably looking at me to rescue him.”
Christine tilts her head and raises both eyebrows, pursuing her lips before she turns and walks over to the engine where Trina is allowing the kids to take turns climbing in back. I stay back and observe. I’d be a liar if I said my attention doesn’t keep getting drawn to where Charlie is, as he kneels on the ground letting the kids try on his helmet and giving them a chance to hold the fire hose.
I’m not even sure if I want to have children of my own, but watching Charlie with the students makes my ovaries happy—thrilled. So lost in my own thoughts, I forget Linette is still standing next to me until she releases a long sigh and I glance over at her. She’s smiling and staring at Charlie, too.
And I don’t like it. Not at all.
* * *
CHARLIE
As I run a towel over my wet hair, I look around Emily’s guest bathroom, impressed with how our work came out. It’s been a week since we re-tiled this shower and updated the vanity and flooring, and I assume I’m the first one to shower in here.
I felt a little weird about it initially, but Emily has a realtor coming over this evening and she wanted Trina and me here for that. Then we’re having a celebratory dinner since the work on her house is all done. I could hardly stay for all that as sweaty as I was from the last of the work on the house today.
We dragged a ton of stuff out to the garage from her attic storage for donating and the things she wants to throw out, we took to the trash.
After drying off my body as well, I get dressed in shorts and a clean T-shirt so I can head downstairs. Just as I pick up my phone, it dings with a text message.
Linette: Hi Fitz. It’s Linette again. Just checking if things have settled down for you and you might be up for getting drinks.
I don’t even answer. Instead, I slide the phone into my pocket.
“Damn Trina, giving my phone number out,” I mutter to myself as I leave the bathroom and head downstairs.
It’s been a month since Trina and I did the presentation at Emily’s school. When I got a text a few days later from the woman, Linette, asking if I wanted to get together, I was totally confused about how she got my phone number. Turns out, Trina gave it to her when we were at the school. Apparently, my meddling best friend thinks I need to be dating. She’s one to talk.
Anyway, I dodged the first few invites by telling her it wasn’t a good time since I was working on my house and Emily’s. In retrospect, I should have just been more direct from the start—I’m not interested—because she didn’t get the hint when I declined her first two offers. Honestly, I barely remember her, even after Trina described her to me.
When I get downstairs, I find Emily sitting on the back patio, her hair still damp from her shower and hanging well below her shoulders. I move to sit in the seat next to her and when she turns and smiles at me, I almost lose my breath. Damn, she’s so pretty. She’s wearing a T-shirt dress that makes her gorgeous sapphire-colored eyes pop even more than usual and she has very little makeup on. Absolutely fucking stunning.
When I realize my mouth is hanging slightly open and I’m staring, I regroup. I clear my throat, then point toward the bottle of beer on the table next to a glass of wine. “This for me?”
“Yep, it’s my thank you for all you’ve done around here. That and all the meals over these last few months. Since you wouldn’t let me pay you cash.” She narrows her eyes at me.
“We’ve been over this so many times. I’m never, ever, going to take money to help you with anything. I do it because I want to. Now, am I going to turn down an Emily Flynn home cooked meal? Hell no. The food is too good, and the company isn’t bad either.”
I wink at her and watch as her full cheeks turn a pale pink color, and she smiles sweetly.
Before either of us can speak again, Trina’s voice drifts through the screen door of the patio from in the house behind us. “Em? Where are you?”
Emily looks over her shoulder toward the patio doors and hollers, “We’re on the patio. Grab yourself a drink before you come out.”
About a minute later, the faint scraping of the screen door sliding on its track alerts me Trina is coming out onto the patio.
“Hey Em. Hey Fitz. I hope you don’t mind that I brought company,” Trina says. She comes around me to take a seat opposite us.
“Of course not. Welcome.”
The surprise in Emily’s voice makes me turn my head to see who it is. Unfortunately, I’m in the middle of taking a drink of my beer when I do, and I’m barely able to prevent myself from spitting out the mouthful of cold liquid. Ben Donley is the last person I ever would have expected Trina to bring along.
Ben shakes my hand, then steps past me to hug Emily before he moves toward the fourth chair to sit.
I lift a questioning brow at Trina as she sits, while Ben’s back is still to me. She shakes her head subtly. Ben and Trina have some kind of history—one that precedes my friendship with her—and, though she’s never given me details about what happened between them, she vacillates between barely acknowledging him to completely ignoring him at social gatherings with our mutual group of friends. Showing up together? Absolutely unheard of.
“Emily, I didn’t mean to crash your appointment with the realtor and your dinner. Trina and I had some things we were working on, and it ran late so we didn’t have time?—”
“Oh my gosh. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re always welcome here.” Emily swats at the air in his direction to wave off his comments.
After that brief exchange, we all spend about fifteen solid seconds looking at each other, silent, the air filled with awkwardness. Then a throaty laugh escapes Ben.
“Really? Neither of you are gonna acknowledge that you’re totally wigged out seeing Trina and I show up together? I’m really disappointed by that.” He laughs even harder, and Trina throws him a stern glare.
Emily giggles. “What?” She places a hand across her chest dramatically. “You two don’t hang out normally? I hadn’t noticed,” she deadpans.
Trina rolls her eyes and I watch, mildly amused but still very confused by how this came about.
They go back and forth a few more times, and I don’t mind, because then I don’t feel obligated to speak. But apparently Trina has had enough.
“You both are ridiculous,” Trina adds. “I should’ve known you two would be unbearable hanging out together in a small group.” Her tone sounds annoyed, but she wears a hint of a smile despite it.
“Ben, you have no idea how glad I am to have another sunshine here to even out this grumpy sunshine dynamic.” Emily gestures between her, me, and Trina.
Emily’s smile is bright, and I’m happy to just sit back and watch her enjoy herself.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not grumpy,” Trina objects. Ben gives her the side-eye.
“Okay, sure,” Emily says. “And the pope’s not catholic.”
I chuckle and Trina turns her glare on me.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing. They’re calling you grumpy, too.” Trina offers me a satisfied smirk.
“What? No, I’m one of the sunshines, too,” I feign. “Right, Em?” I turn my head to her, awaiting her response.
She simply widens her eyes and bites at her lower lip. It’s not meant to be sexy, but it is, and I have to turn away.
“Well, you’re grumpy sometimes. But not as grumpy as Trina. You’re more the quiet, introspective type.” We all chuckle at that, even Trina relents.
The doorbell rings and Trina stands. “You can all kiss my grumpy ass. I’m gonna go get the door.”
Two and a half hours later, the realtor has come and gone with promises to email Emily paperwork to review and sign if she wants to proceed with listing the house. We’ve all eaten the amazingly delicious meal Emily made, and we’re back on the patio enjoying a bottle of wine. Even Trina seems to enjoy herself, and I’m glad to see it.
Emily turns to me. “Can I have your phone to go connect your Sirius radio to the Bluetooth speakers?” I smile at her and pull it out of my shorts pocket, type in the passcode and hand it to her. She heads into the house and is gone for several minutes. I’m assuming she’s struggling with getting it connected and I’m just about to head in to check on her when she returns.
“Here.” She hands me my phone without making eye contact.
And though we stay outside another hour before calling it a night, something is clearly off with Emily that wasn’t before. While I’m gathering my stuff, Trina and Ben say goodbye and leave.
When we’re at the door, I ask her, “Are you all right? Something seems off since you went in the house to set up the Bluetooth.”
“No. I’m fine. I’m just exhausted and want to go to bed.” I’m not convinced by her words, though, and she’s not looking me in the eye.
I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts me off before I can.
“Goodnight.”
I look at her for a few seconds, but she still won’t meet my gaze. “Em? I thought we don’t avoid the hard conversations anymore. You’re clearly upset?—”
“I said goodnight.”
I stand there for a few seconds, then give up.
“Goodnight, sunshine.” Not knowing what else to do, I turn and walk out the door to go home.