10. Cal
Cal
I never figured that switching from one department to the next would be such a challenge. At the time I made the decision, I was simply chasing money so I could help Dani out with the baby. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have left NFD.
I wasn’t a part of Nate and Thoren’s regular crew, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t been included in the off-duty gatherings. They usually invited me whenever they had cookouts or went for beers. Many times, I’d felt like an outsider looking in, but they always welcomed me.
Things are different at the county department.
The guys aren’t the same. It doesn’t have that family feel to it.
How can it with a constant rotation of different men and women?
I never know from one day to the next who I’ll be partnered with.
And I don’t understand why there’s no consistency with our shifts.
The job itself is a lot of the same. Same bullshit calls, same sleepless nights. The difference has been that I could work forty-eight hours instead of twenty-four. Not that I’ll be taking any more voluntary overtime with Charlie in the picture.
And how ridiculous is it that I’m in charge of another human?
It’s not like I know how to raise a kid. Hell, I don’t even know what family means. No good role models to emulate. Not even friends I’d choose to be family with.
When I first left home, I was more driven to do something for myself, to find a better way of life. I didn’t realize that I’d made those connections at NFD, nor that I’d miss having a group of friends to call on.
But now I have a little girl in my care, as well as people I’m relying on and who are relying on me.
And it feels like I’m wearing my shoes on the wrong feet.
“Hey, did you hear about the new guy coming over from the city?” The guy assigned to be my partner today is another young know-it-all. I don’t even know his name. It doesn’t pay to learn their names when they rotate in and out with every new shift.
“No.”
“Some old dude’s coming over from the city. I don’t know him, but I hear he retired not too long ago, and he’s supposed to be the shit.”
There could only be one person who fit that description.
“Are you talking about Mac Collins from NFD?”
“Yeah, that sounds right.” He doesn’t even have the decency to stop what he’s doing to look at me and have a real conversation. He just sits there playing his damn video game.
“You telling me Mac Collins is coming to the county? When? ”
He shrugs and shifts in his seat as he maneuvers his game, like he’s physically playing.
“I dunno. He was supposed to start a couple of days ago. Word came down that he’s been going around having lunch”—he crooks his fingers in air quotes around the word—“with all the shifts and trying to meet up with all the stations to talk to people, listen to what we have to say.” The game restarts, and he goes back into his own little world as if he hasn’t just dropped a huge bomb on me.
I step over and stand in front of him, blocking his view of the TV until he gives me his eyes. “Let me tell you something. If Mac Collins is coming here, you damn well better listen to what he has to say. That’s one good dude. This department needs a man like that.”
That he’s coming to the county now is a boon for us. I walk away, digging my phone out of my pocket and hitting up Captain Collins. He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Cal.”
“You mean to tell me you came to work for my department, and you didn’t bother to let me know?” Is it rude of me to immediately crawl up his ass? Probably.
But I thought I’d been more important than just a guy who worked for him. He’d made me feel that way, at least. Visiting me at the hospital when I was shot. Checking in with me for months after I was released, as I started this job. Helping me sort myself out with Charlie.
I guess I wanted to feel like we’d become friends.
“Things are a little touchy around here,” Mac admits. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or put you in a bad spot.”
The comment draws a bark of disbelief out of me. What a fucking lame excuse.
Papers shuffle in the background as he lets out a grunt. “That’s a fucking cop-out, and you deserve better from me. I’m sorry. You were on my list, and I should’ve made the call sooner.”
Color me surprised. I actually get an apology. But then again, Collins is a good dude like that. Admits when he’s wrong and makes it right.
His apology burns away the majority of my frustration. I clear my throat because it suddenly feels tight. “It’s all good.” I’m standing in the bay, watching the traffic pass by. “I’m not in the best headspace,” I admit. “What are you doing for the county?”
“Well, somebody got the bright idea to offer me a deputy chief position.” And just like that, we’re back on solid ground, and the knot in my throat eases.
“I told you the other day, I was too bored at home and driving Liv crazy. So now I’m here to get out of her hair and also see if I can help this department. ”
“That’s good, man. If they’ll listen to you.”
“Well, I hope to make a difference. Listen, Cal, I’m coming by the station in a couple of days. Maybe we can have lunch. I’m trying to decipher what areas are the real problems and what areas are the bullshit that people like to bitch about.”
“Well, for starters, you can do something about this ridiculous rotation,” I say, propping a boot on the bumper of the pickup truck that resides at this station.
If I’m honest, this one has been my favorite.
It’s not new, but it’s the closest to my apartment.
I’m within minutes of Charlie and Jules if they need me.
“Already on my radar,” Mac agrees.
“And then, see if you can get them to quit hiring dickheads.”
A few minutes later, Mac and I ring off. The tones drop, and we jump into the truck to head to yet another medical call.
That’s one thing that hasn’t changed between the different departments.
I became a fireman to help people, save lives and property, and all that jazz. I didn’t realize that I’d be running a majority of medical calls. Every once in a while, we run a good barn burner, though, and those are the days I enjoy most.
Except for that last one. That one’s still sitting with me. Well, that one and the courthouse fire where I was shot.
Those calls will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.
Halfway through my shift, I call and check in on Charlie. Nancy assures me that she’s had a great day and has been playing outside and getting fresh air. My next call is to Jules, but it immediately goes to voicemail.
I’ve confirmed with her countless times that she’s going to pick Charlie up and take her to my apartment.
Spent a crap ton of money buying an extra car seat and a new full-size crib, and I even moved the queen bed out of my spare room and put it in storage.
My apartment is babyproofed as much as possible with drawer thingies and outlet plugs.
I’ve tried to take every safety precaution available.
And I should trust that Jules knows how to care for a kid, because she’s lived in a house full of them. But I’m still nervous.
Leaving Charlie at day care was the usual this morning, but I’m worried about how she’ll do for Jules tonight. What if she thinks I’ve left her? What if it’s too soon after her mom abandoned her?
Thinking about my sister triggers that need to harass the shit out of her, so when we arrive back at the station, I pull out my phone and call her again. No answer. So I send another text for her to please call me.
Then I clear the dayroom table and spread out the blueprints for Jules’s coffee shop as a distraction.
It shouldn’t be a difficult job to finish, but I think I’ll tap Nate for his input just in case. With any luck, I’ll be able to finish this project in a week. Maybe two.
And finally, an hour passes, and it’s been enough time that maybe I won’t feel like such a moron for calling Jules again. I should trust her—I do trust her. It’s just that everything is so new for me and Charlie.
But when she picks up the call and unholy screaming greets me on the other end of the line, I lurch from my chair, sending the prints scattering. I’m halfway out the door before I even hear Jules’s voice.