Chapter 11
Flash started her day by taking Snuffles for a run.
The tiny dog with little legs kept up for the first mile; Flash carried her the rest of the way.
After breakfast and a shower, she relaxed to nature music while reading a print copy of Firehouse Magazine’s latest issue.
Despite being born into the digital era, and perhaps influenced by her teacher parents, Flash always preferred the sleek feel of a physical magazine to the bright light of a tablet or computer screen.
She liked paper books and real newspapers, even if a tree had to die.
Didn’t the environment suffer from all those humongous supercomputers that ran the internet?
She’d read somewhere about the millions of gallons of water it took to cool them.
And the power plants; many still ran on oil.
She figured it was like the ridiculous air dryers in restrooms instead of paper towels, most of which were now made from recycled paper anyway.
Flash loved nature without a doubt, but paper books went back over a millennium, so how bad could they be?
After lunch, she secured Snuffles in her backpack dog carrier, which she wore with the dog on her chest rather than her back, and headed out. First stop: the groomer for Snuffles’ appointment. She was so overdue.
“You be a good girl for Mommy,” she instructed before leaving her with the groomer. “Maybe Louise will give you a treat.” She kissed Snuffles’ head, and the dog responded by licking her nose.
“We’ll be just fine,” the middle-aged Louise, dressed in a doggy-themed smock, assured her with a smile. “Same bath and cut as last time?”
“Yes, please.”
“Should be done in three hours.” Louise picked up Snuffles and carried her to the back. Flash took the opportunity to slip away.
She had errands to run, and the traffic was awful.
She filled her motorcycle tank with gas in no time, but the wait at the pump seemed interminable.
Add in quick stops at the bank ATM and to drop a card to Mom in the post office slot, and an hour was lost. Next was the all-important grocery store stop.
Flash was planning to cook one of her mother’s recipes for Athena’s dinner tonight, and everything had to be fresh.
She figured the ingredients, plus a few beverages, would fill both her saddlebags and Snuffles’ carrier, so she’d need to drop them off at her loft before picking up the pup from the groomer.
The place was a madhouse. Flash sensed the frantic energy rippling through the supermarket, a palpable buzz of people rushing around.
Toilet paper rolls and bottled water had flown off the shelves.
Carts loaded with canned goods, baby food, diapers, and batteries, along with the typical milk and bread, clogged the aisles.
Worried shoppers conversed in tight tones, two arguing over the last jar of peanut butter.
Upon assessing the chaos, Flash opted for a hand-held basket she could easily maneuver around the bulky carts to get the items on her list. She headed to the meat department first, hoping it hadn’t been picked clean.
Shimmying between a brawny bald man and a hunched granny, claiming one of the few remaining hams, Flash pressed up to the meat case.
The only ground beef packages left were the ones wrapped in meat-colored plastic tubes, the kind where you couldn’t actually see what you were buying.
Flash frowned because she never bought those.
But a few feet away, she spied two packs of Italian sausage.
That’s better anyway. Reaching around the retreating, ham-hording granny, she snatched one of the Italian sausages and wiggled out of the meat section.
The pasta aisle wasn’t much better, but the mac and cheese boxes had been hit hardest, leaving plenty of ziti for her recipe.
Finding cans of crushed tomatoes and tomato paste, and having the necessary spices at home, she worked her way to the refrigerated cheese display.
Sandwich slices had been hit hardest, leaving a few bags of mozzarella and Italian blends. Flash snagged one of each. Then she and another woman simultaneously reached for a container of ricotta, their hands bumping.
“Excuse me,” the woman said, lifting the plastic tub. Good for her, it wasn’t the last one.
Flash glanced to her side and blinked. Recognition brightened her expression as she straightened.
Nikki Alvarez, an old girlfriend. Sort of.
They’d hooked up about five years ago after a few weeks of clubbing together.
It had been fun for a couple of months, and then …
she didn’t remember why they stopped going out, but neither of them was looking for a serious relationship, so it wasn’t a problem.
“Lisa Cash? Well, damn. You got even hotter.” The twenty-eight-year-old brunette brushed back a strand of hair, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. She was shorter than Flash, wearing a boob-hugging sweater and some kind of tight yoga pants. Her cheeks flushed.
“Nikki. Wow. It’s been a minute.” Flash slid the cheese into her basket. Catching up would be nice, but she needed to hit the bakery and produce before everything was gone. Still, she felt obligated to be polite. “How’ve you been? It’s been, what? Five years?”
“Something like that.” She batted luminous brown eyes at Flash. “I’m still tending bar, only I’m in a better establishment than the last one. Let me guess—you’re still a firefighter, probably with a promotion by now.”
“Guilty on both counts.”
A woman with a toddler in her cart and a bigger child in tow bumped Flash with her buggy. The ambient noise level had risen.
“Excuse me,” she said brusquely. “You’re blocking the cheese bin.”
Flash stepped away. The woman was rude, but clearly in crisis mode. Nikki, pushing her overloaded cart, followed. “Watch it, lady,” Nikki called over her shoulder. “It’s not the apocalypse, you know.”
Flash snickered. “Houston seems to think so.” She headed toward produce for the salad fixings.
“I mean, really,” Nikki muttered. “Someone says snow, and the whole city goes nuts.”
Flash glanced at her full cart.
“Yes, I know.” Nikki rolled her eyes. Flash had forgotten how cute she looked when she was embarrassed.
“But you can see, everything is getting sold out. If I don’t load up now, there’s no telling when the shelves will be full again.
Last time, it was almost two weeks before groceries were restocked. You don’t have much.”
“I eat half my meals at the firehouse,” she replied. Relieved to see the lettuce hadn’t vanished, she selected heads of iceberg and Romaine, then a few tomatoes. “This is for tonight.”
Nikki cocked her head at Flash. “Since when do you cook?”
“We all have to grow up sometime. Do you need produce while we’re here?”
“Sure.” Nikki grabbed a bag of apples and one of oranges.
Flash moved toward the bakery, having to stop and wait for Nikki’s cart to nab a clearing. “You married or something? Got kids?” Flash asked. “You’re buying enough for an army.”
“No, silly.” Nikki lightly swatted Flash’s arm. “I’m much too young to settle down. Most of this is for my grandpa. He had hip surgery and can’t get out to face this chaos, so I said I’d stock up for both of us. What about you?”
Her flirtatious smile brought back fond memories, but they were only that. Any spark that Nikki might wish to rekindle had long since burned out for Flash, drowned by the roaring inferno of emotions she held for Athena.
“Oh, yes,” she answered, unable to hide the glow. “Not married, no kids, but I’ve definitely found someone worth settling down for.”
Nikki’s enthusiasm waned. “That’s great,” she said, plastic smile in place. “I’m happy for you. Anyone I know?”
Finally arriving at the bakery department, Flash found the sandwich-bread shelves nearly bare, but a few fresh Italian loaves remained. She put one in her basket.
“I doubt it. She’s an FBI agent.”
“Wow.” Nikki looked honestly surprised. She plucked two loaves of whole wheat from a nearly bare shelf and set them atop her pile. “That’s a far cry from the old party crowd, hey?”
“Yep. I hope there’s a bottle of red left on the wine aisle,” Flash said, twisting her mouth in speculation. “I sure don’t want to go into another store today.”
“Let’s check it out.” Nikki pushed her cart out into traffic, cutting off a woman with enough Kleenex and cold remedies to open her own clinic.
“Excuse us,” Flash said as she slipped through the opening. The woman scowled and jabbered something in Spanish.
“The important thing is that we’re both happy,” Nikki said as they turned onto the spirits aisle. “You with your agent and me with my footloose, carefree life.”
Flash smiled. She was happy—happier than she’d been since … She selected a label Athena had mentioned liking.
“So, FYI, I haven’t changed my phone number,” Nikki said, “in case you still have it.”
“Mine’s been the same since I moved to Houston.”
“Good!” Nikki’s smile spread wide. “I might have to call it if I get trapped by the ice storm, so you can save me from freezing to death.”
With a good-natured laugh, Flash motioned to the full grocery cart. “At least you won’t starve. Hey, it was good running into you. I’m really glad you’re OK.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re OK too. Now, I can’t use the 15-item-or-less lane to check out, so I’d better get in one of those hour-long waits. Don’t be a stranger.”
Flash watched Nikki push her cart out of sight, nostalgia warming her.
Nikki was cute, and they’d had fun dancing at clubs, drinking too much, and romping under the sheets.
But to be honest, she hadn’t thought about her in years.
Athena was a different story. Every time they were together, or even talked over the phone, the yearning in her heart grew stronger.
Something lasting had formed between them—at least on Flash’s side.
She had to play this right, so she didn’t chase Athena away.
Valentine’s Day, she thought. I can’t go shopping in this chaos, unless it’s online. I’ll have to think of something.
Flash breathed fresh air upon exiting the crowded grocery store and stowed her purchases in her saddlebags, tucking the fragile wine bottle into Snuffles’ carrier.
She put up with the crazy traffic, unloaded her baked ziti ingredients, then braved the chaos again to pick up Snuffles from the groomer.
“Snuffles!” She opened her arms with enthusiasm when Louise brought her out.
“All done,” Louise said. “She was a perfect little lady, so well behaved.”
At once, the little dog’s eyes lit, tail wagged, and she wiggled to get free. Flash took her in her arms and received a tongue bath as a prize.
“You look and smell so much better,” Flash praised. “I can’t wait to show Athena how beautiful you are. Thanks,” she said to Louise.
Horns honked, and brakes squealed as Flash negotiated her way home. She passed two fender-benders. “Shift tomorrow’s going to be busy,” she told Snuffles.
Back at her loft, Flash straightened up and vacuumed, wanting everything to look good for her date.
Her heart danced whenever she picked up something of Athena’s and carefully tucked it into a dedicated drawer.
That drawer was getting full. Maybe I can get her to move in one shirt at a time, she thought.
A pair of hose here, shoes there, her shampoo in my shower. She liked it. It felt right.
But her loft was so common, so ordinary, not good enough for the woman she loved.
Athena’s condo was newer, more expensive, but not better.
The mansion in Piney Point Village was where she pictured Athena living, where she deserved to be.
Flash plopped onto the bed, her shoulders slumping.
It was so far away from Station Eight. She could transfer to a firehouse in the suburbs, but her friends, her team, her family, were at Eight.
No need borrowing tomorrow’s worries, she told herself. Now, to whip up an easy meal that tastes like I slaved in the kitchen for hours before Athena gets here.
Snuffles barked from the living room. Flash meandered out to see what she wanted. She sat, pretty as you please, draped in a red heart-covered bandana big enough on her petite body to look like a superhero cape, with a stuffed lamb lying in front of her paws. “Arf!” Her tail wagged.
Flash jutted in like a football running back, crouched low, zigging and zagging, and snatched the toy.
She squeaked it, getting Snuffles even more excited.
The pup danced on her hind legs, stretching as tall as possible.
Flash threw the lamb, and four paws scrambled on the hardwood floor as she sprang into the chase.
Snuffles seized the stuffy in her mouth and thrashed it back and forth, flinging it high into the air.
She raced after it, tossing, pouncing, shaking, and flinging.
If it had been a mouse or a rat, that’s exactly how she would have dispatched it.
After a vigorous attack, Snuffles brought the “dead” stuffed lamb to Flash, dropped it at her feet, and grinned up with a happy, panting face, anticipation radiating off her well-groomed body.
“What a good girl!” Flash praised and rewarded her with a small treat. “You’ll have to show Athena when she gets here. She’ll be impressed.”
Snuffles beamed.