27. Mateo
MATEO
The moment I pull into the parking lot, I know this isn't what I was expecting.
There are cars parked up and down the street and families bundled in winter coats making their way toward the station.
Kids run through the snow in plastic firefighter hats that are much too big for their heads, their laughter carrying through the cold air as they point excitedly at the fire trucks parked outside.
Crew lets out an excited gasp from the backseat before I've even shifted the car into park. His nose is pressed to the window, his little hands against the glass as if he’s trying to somehow fit through it. "Daddy! Fire trucks!"
I laugh as I glance at him in the rearview mirror. "I see 'em, buddy."
I was under the impression we were coming here to see Emerson for a little while—not walking into what looks like every kid's dream Saturday afternoon.
Firefighters stand outside the station talking with families while others wave from the open bay doors. Somewhere nearby, a siren briefly sounds before it's followed by a chorus of excited squeals and parents laughing as their children cover their ears.
I look back at the station, thinking about Emerson’s offer for Crew to come see the station around while we were all in town, and I’m surprised she didn’t mention such a big event going on.
Crew slips his mittened hand into mine and practically bounces on the balls of his feet as he stares at the trucks in front of him.
Whatever this is, I have a feeling we're going to be here a while.
As we walk towards the station, a crowd of people begins to form around four of the firefighters standing just in front of the big open garage doors. Two are in their gear while the other two are in Northshore Fire Department pullovers and black beanies.
“Welcome, everyone,” one of the firefighters says, eliciting squeals of greetings from the different ages of kids gathered around him.
Crew pulls on my hand as hard as he can before letting go and throwing his arms up for me to pick him up.
I can almost feel his excitement as I hold him against my side while the firefighter, who introduces himself as Anderson, explains what today is all about.
“Today is one of our favorite days of the year because we get to teach all of you how to become honorary firefighters.” It earns him a chorus of excited cheers from the kids.
“Well, honorary firefighters for the day.
Sorry, parents and guardians—you still have a few years before we can put 'em to work.”
I look over to see another firefighter standing beside Anderson, arms crossed over his chest, his expression far more serious.
“This is Jack,” Anderson says, gesturing toward him. “He’s here to make sure I don’t promise these kids they can take a fire truck home.”
Jack doesn’t even blink. “I’m here because somebody has to stop him from telling them firefighters get unlimited ice cream.”
A little boy near the front gasps. “You don’t?”
Anderson points at Jack. “Look what you’ve done.”
Jack shrugs, but he doesn’t bother arguing further.
The kids laugh, and even though Jack barely changes his expression, I catch the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes.
“We’re going to teach you what to do if there’s ever a fire in your home,” Anderson continues. “How to stay safe, how to get out, and how to practice those skills inside our Survive Alive House.”
Crew shifts higher against me, completely captivated.
“First question,” Anderson says. “Who knows how a fire can start?”
Every hand shoots into the air.
I’m watching Crew’s face when I feel someone step into the crowd beside me.
And then I see her.
Emerson.
For a second, everything else fades—the kids shouting, the firefighters talking, the parents laughing around us.
She’s wearing a pink sweater underneath a black trench coat, her dark hair falling around her shoulders. Her nose is rosy from the cold, and something about that tiny detail feels more intimate than it should.
Like proof that she’s real. That she’s actually standing here.
I haven’t seen her since the night I left.
Since the way she looked at me in the parking lot.
Since the way she quietly asked me to come in, and I walked away anyway.
Her eyes find mine.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Then Crew shifts in my arms, breaking the spell.
Emerson’s gaze drops to him, and a soft smile pulls at her lips.
“Hey, champ,” she says quietly, not wanting to interrupt the call and response happening around us with the two firefighters and the crowd of kids.
Crew immediately reaches toward her. “Ems!”
She laughs as he practically launches himself in her direction, and I have no choice but to let her take him from my arms.
The ease of it—the way he trusts her, the way she fits into this moment like she was always supposed to be here—does something uncomfortable to my chest.
“Glad you made it,” she says, looking back at me.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend. “Apparently we missed the part where this wasn’t just a quick stop at the station.”
A small smirk tugs at her mouth as her eyes go to the firefighters at the front.
“My brother didn’t tell me this wasn’t going to be just an ordinary day at the station.” She hikes Crew up higher on her hip as his eyes volley back and forth between Anderson and the volunteers he calls on to answer his questions.
My gaze follows her. “Which one is your brother?”
“I’ll give you one guess,” she deadpans just as Anderson swats Jack on the shoulder after he answered a hard, “no” to one of the kids asking if he could drive one of the fire trucks.
“Noted.” I nod, watching as Jack continues to look like he’d rather be anywhere else while somehow being exactly where he wants to be. A quick glance at Emerson tells me the attitude might be genetic.
“Okay!” Anderson calls, pulling everyone’s attention back. “What does it feel like when you get close to a fire? Maybe when you’re roasting marshmallows in the summer or when you blow out your birthday cake candles.” Anderson asks, scanning the crowd.
Every hand shoots into the air—even the ones that clearly don't know the answer.
“It's hot!” one little girl shouts.
“My daddy burns burgers on the grill sometimes!” another kid proudly announces, while another says, “My birthday is in August!!”, earning another round of laughter from the adults.
“Well, all of those things can be true,” Anderson chuckles. “Next question. Does anyone know what smoke does during a fire?”
A few hands shoot up, but not as many as the last question.
“Jack,” Anderson says, looking to his partner. “Why don't you answer this one?”
Jack stares at Anderson, eliciting giggles from the kids watching the two. “Smoke rises,” he answers flatly.
“That’s right!” Anderson holds up his hand for Jack to high-five, only for Jack to look back towards the crowd, his arms still crossed over his chest. Anderson slaps his own hand before continuing with the kids. “Smoke rises, which means if you're ever in a fire, where do we want to be, everyone?”
“The FLOOR!” several kids yell.
“That's right!” He points toward the crowd dramatically. “We stay low and crawl beneath the smoke. Can I get a volunteer to come show everyone how we crawl?” He turns to Jack. “How about you?”
Emerson huffs out a dry laugh as a few giggles sound through the crowd before Anderson claps Jack on the shoulder, his attention going back to the kids in front of him.
Anderson points toward a little boy in a bright blue winter hat. “How about you, bud?”
The boy drops onto his hands and knees without hesitation and begins army crawling across the floor while the rest of the kids cheer him on.
“Perfect!” Anderson says. “Now, if you're going to leave your bedroom during a fire, what do we do before we open the door?”
A few tentative hands go up before he calls on another volunteer.
“We touch it!” she answers confidently.
“With what?” Anderson prompts, bending down to his knees to get to the girl’s level.
“The back of our hand!”
“Exactly right!” He holds his hand out for her to high-five before looking back out into the crowd. “And why do we do that?”
Crew tentatively raises his hand, catching Jack’s eye. I watch as Jack bumps his shoulder against Anderson, nodding his head in our direction.
Anderson finds Emerson in the crowd, a wide grin on his face when his gaze goes to Crew in her arms. “How about you, kid?” Anderson points to Crew. “Why do we hold the back of our hand to the door before we open it?
Crew looks at Emerson, who gives me a smile. “Go ahead,” she whispers to him.
He looks back towards Anderson. “So we don't get burned?”
“Yes! Look at that,” Anderson says, moving through the crowd to give Crew a high-five.
“We got a firefighter in training here today, don’t we?
” Crew slaps his hand against Anderson’s, a shy smile on his face.
“Remember, kids,” Anderson says as he heads back to his spot at the front.
“If the door feels hot, we don't open it.
We stay in our room, put something under the door if we can, and yell for help. "
Crew’s eyes are wide as he hangs onto every word coming from the firefighter standing in front of him. Like he just got his chance of talking to his favorite superhero.
“Last question,” Anderson says, smiling as he points toward the crowd once more. “Once we make it outside safely, what do we never, ever do?”
“Go back inside!” the kids shout enthusiastically.
“That's right! No toys, no stuffed animals, no favorite blankies—not even if Mom says she forgot her coffee maker.” And it makes the adults laugh.
“Because firefighters are the only ones who go back inside. That's our job. Your job is to make it outside safely and meet your family at your special meeting spot.”
He gestures toward the doors leading farther into the station. “Now, honorary firefighters,” he says, his voice going low to draw all the kids’ attention, “are you all ready to practice being fire safety experts inside the Survive Alive House?”
The space erupts into excited chatter as Crew twists in Emerson’s arms to look at me. “Daddy?” he whispers excitedly. “Can I really be an honorary firefighter?”
“For today, buddy, I think you’ve already got the job.”
He nods, satisfied. “You can be one too.”
“Oh yeah?”
Emerson sets him down, her eyes on him as he says, “Yeah. You can be the singing firefighter.”
I laugh. “The singing firefighter?”
“Uh-huh. You sing and save people.”
“I don’t know about that, buddy,” I say, holding my hand out for him to grab as the crowd disperses, following Jack and Anderson to the Survive Alive House set up behind the station.
Crew grabs my hand just before grabbing Emerson’s with his other as we walk, and I wish it didn’t have the effect on me that it does. The three of us walking together.
“Ems says your music saves people.” Crew looks up at Emerson. “Right, Ems?”
I look at my son’s nanny, her expression frozen as she looks down at Crew, like she was just outed in a way she was avoiding. But then she quickly schools her features. She nods her head. “I did say that.”
“You did?” I prompt, my lips curving as she looks at me like she wants to kill me.
Crew’s smile is wide. “She said your music saves her when she misses her mom.”